GDI

'GDI' means gall dang it.  It's looking like Yellow Fin.  No one has been able to catch Yellow Fin because they're hiding under the ice.  So what are we gonna do?  Go look around the ice.  Every time I here a "thunk!" on the hull, I hear Celine Dion and that Titanic song.  It's a bit nerve racking.  If we don't catch Yellow Fin, maybe we'll come home.  Or maybe we'll cruise around till we run out of food.  It's hard to say at this point.

Oh, and after my fifth three hour nap in the last two days I came to the galley.  There was an encouraging note on the white board.  Rain gear at 0900 in the factory.  There will be no fish.  We will be cleaning.  Yay.  There is no lower form of labor on the seas than cleaning the factory.  And it will stink like rotten fish.  And it will suck.  Shares are like 200 hundred dollars right now and the freezer hold is nearly empty.  It's about time for a return voyage.  It's about time to get crackin on that script.  It's about time to hit southern Cali for some Corona with Deej.  It's about time for a piano.  It's about time.  I'll hang in there for a bit and not lose my mind.  If there is shipyard work when we get back to Seattle, I may have to partake just to pad the account a bit.  Shipyard will probably pay better than fishing at this point.  The commodore has a couch ready for me.  Oh, and there's always the boat.  Maybe some new wenches too.  But for sure a piano.  Gotta happen.  GDI.  Yellow fin.  My nemesis.