Heave Ho!

How do baseball players pass the time in the-dug out when it's raining and all they hear is blup-blup-blup on the ground cover?

How do ferrymen pass the time sitting on the landing as the boat approaches from two miles away?

How do dancing girls pass the time between acts when they know their routine, are costumed, and their make-up could burn down the house?

The average person may never know, but we do know how the four crew members of the forty-foot sailboat,Heave-Ho, spent two yours waiting for their turn to go through the locks between the two Sault Saint Marie's, Michigan and Canada. We know, because shorthand expert Carry Collins recorded them as she listened to their stories.

"Well, we better dosomething," gnarled Ed. "I was bored down the St Lawrence, across Huron, and I'm worse bored sitting in this dumb lock!"

"So," said Pascal, ignoring him, "as owner and Captain of the boat and the company, I'm going first. Employer's prerogative, so there."

"Be a sore loser," teased Elaine, his diplomatic wife. "But your story better be good oryou know what."

'What' was the booby prize all had agreed on: getting tossed off the fantail in cold Lake Superior. The winner would receive a bottle of champagne, second, a bottle of wine; third, a six pack of Australian beer.

"Actually, Pascal," said Elaine, grinning, "the quality of your story really doesn't matter. You'll winoneprize or another, and maybe a cold chaser!"

The crew laughed heartily. They'd spent enough time together they'd become accustomed to each other's habits. Only Ed, whoseemedcalm in the beginning, was becoming more and more irritable.

"Yeah, quit your belly aching," piped in Ed. "Just tell us your tale."

"If you insist," said Pascal, not wanting to upset his employee any more. As he began, Elaine, Carry, and Ed propped their small, scoring clipboards on their legs and playfully dared Pascal to tell a good story.

Ed almost smiled.To throw the boss overboard in this cold water!

The trip from Montreal to Duluth was Elaine's idea. Not just because

she liked to sail, but to serve as a treat for her husband's employees. "Take a trip a year, Pascal. Two people from the company. It'll raise the morale like you've never seen. Just imagine, sailing with the boss, all the beautiful scenery. You don't think that won't be an incentive?"

So Pascal chose Carry, his Assistant, simply because she deserved the best, and Ed, the hardest worker in Accounting. On this maiden voyage Pascal sensed neither needed a carrot to improve their work: the trip was a pure treat. And already he sensed it was the single best way to learn the in's and out's of his employees.

"It all happened in Barbarosa," he started

"Where is Barbarosa?" interrupted Ed.

"Are you making this up as you go?" kidded Elaine.

"Crew," answered Pascal, whose Admiral cap was teetering because of the wind, "I refuse to be distracted by your tactics. I will tell a good story. And to endure your interruptions, I hereby divorce myself from your incessant caterwauling." With exaggerated agitation, he stuck his fingers in his ears and continued.

"What happened in Barbarosa was unique even among the sideshow of misfits that inhabited the pirate-spewed bays and quays of the Caribbean."

"Oh, he's into it!" teased aHeave-Ho.shipmate.

"Maybe he won't get the dunking even if we do rig the ballots."

Pascal heard nothing so he plodded on. "There was this Captain Squiggly..."

"Squiggly? Comeon, Boss."

"...who was the Pirate of pirates. Seven feet tall and covered with tattoos from bare feet to bald head, no one could stand up to him. He was a fierce fighter as well as the most capable rum drinker of the lot."

The members ofHeave-Howanted to heckle the narrator but his introduction had caught their interest enough that when they realized he couldn't hear them, they gave up and listened.

"Now this Squiggly, Captain he was known by his mates, don't you see, demanded only two rules while working in his employ: absolute obedience and a ten-percent cut from every treasure and ship they looted."

"Wait, Pascal, that dock hand is signaling." But the narrator kept to his task.Let the hecklers play their games.

"So Squiggly raided this port, boarded that ship, and caused as much havoc as his tattooed seven feet could. And you know what? It's because of him that casino owners, and most gambling outfits the world over, take

a cut out of the winnings. That's right, he started it all!"

Pascal removed his fingers, straightened his Admiral hat, and expected to hear either cheers or jeers. Instead, his audience had abandoned both him andHeave-Hoas they secured the first cleats along the dock.

"Story done," Pascal said. "So?"

"So what?" responded Ed, put out that he had to do any work.

"What about my story?"

"Oh, we heard it all right. But you don't get to see the scores untileveryone'sfinished. You're not first in everything, Boss."

The boat owner pouted dramatically. "You mean I won't know if I'm going to get run off the gang plank or keel hauled until the very end? Well,if that's the case, I'm not going alone!" And he grabbed his wife by the waist.

The truth was that everyone enjoyed the story, but no one waned to tell him that.

"Elaine, it's your turn."

"Gladly, Mates," Pascal's wife said playfully. And don't think her approach didn't win a few votes.

But Ed wasn't happy. He'd felt an encroachment from the others ever since going under the Mackinack Bridge. The Straits seemed to have been the turning point. He had concluded that he disliked the other passengers, resented being teased by the boss's wife and asecretary, and utterly hated being on water.How couldthatwoman marrythatboss-- how could Esmeralda ever marry Quasimodo!?Andlovehim, too?

Elaine began. "Peach Blossom..."

"Peach Blossom?" thundered Pascal dramatically, "what kind of story?"

"Now, dear," said Elaine sweetly. "You disliked interruptions so much you stuck your fingers in your ears. You really don't want me to do that, do you? It'sdiscourteousto cut off the Boss/husband, don't you think?"

She does have a way with the old wind bag.

"Peach Blossom was the favorite princess of the King of the Hoolo Hoola Clan, Berry-Berry."

"But as glorious as the kingdom was, there was envy in the air. That's what happens when a man has more than one wife." And Elaine winked playfully at her husband. "That's right, Tula-Tula, the King's third wife, was jealous. Jealous of Wife One, jealous of Wife Two, and pathologically green around the gills over Peach Blossom, Berry-Berry's Daughter One

from Wife One. So, in keeping with the way under-wives did things in those days, Tula-Tula tells Peach Blossom that she has been honored to escort the beautiful princess to Shanta-Shanta, an island supposedly in habited by scores of eligible princes and a King eager to marry off his favorite Son One, Ponga-Ponga."

When will this stop?moaned Ed.

The crew ofHeave-Holooked up as water rushed into the Soo locks, but the narrator, like her husband, continued non-plussed.

"The whole scheme was, of course, contrived by jealous Wife Three as a way to get rid of the beautiful princess. But when they got to Shanta-Shanta, the King bound Tula-Tula in a bamboo cage, then Ponga-Ponga and Peach Blossom got married right in front of everyone."

"I don't understand," interrupted Pascal. "How come?"

"Because Tula-Tula foolishly told the King that she was Wife Three of Berry-Berry, and the rule in Shanta-Shanta was that you could have only ONE spouse, and if you had more, you would have to spend the rest of your life sleeping upright by yourself in a bamboo hut and watch everyoneelseget married. Those were the rules."

"Oh," said Carry, as she marked the ballot on her clipboard, "that had a good ending." The others checked their score sheets: some for the story, others for the grace of the storyteller.

"You're up, Carry," ordered Captain Pascal as if pronouncing a death sentence.

"I'll make this quick because the lock is nearly full and we do want to get in Superior. "You won't fault me that, will you?" Everyone frowned.

"Anyway," started the efficient Administrative Assistant, happy to be aboard her boss' sailboat even if it did mean playing extrovert during this time-passing game, "once there were three girls..."

"I hope they're not named Berry-Berry, Tula-Tula, or Shanta-Shanta," interrupted Ed, whose resentment had piqued. He no longer cared what his crew mates thought, he just wanted to get off the boat and feel dry ground under his feet. He mumbled,Berry-Berry, dumba-dumba.

"Now, these three girls were, of course, beautiful and shy."

"Of course," snarled Ed, resenting the girl because the boss obviously favored her. "Shy, like you."

"Have you noticed," said Elaine to take the edge off from Ed's growing enmity, "that each story is like the story-teller? Pascal tells one about a boss, his dutiful spouse tells one about a wife, and..."

"The third is about three secretaries.

"Administrative Assistants," corrected Carry, still smiling.

"Well," snapped Ed, "the shy Administrative Assistant has some spunk!"

Elaine, diplomat to the core, interjected, "It'll be interesting to see what kind of story you tell, Ed." Then, smiling at Carry, encouraged her to continue, which the able, shy assistant did.

"The girls were Abigail, Bernadine, and Catherine."

"Oh!" laughed Ed. "A,B, and C. Just like an organized secretary -- a system to remember them by."

Pascal quietly observed his employee make a fool of himself. He wondered how he could quiet him without an out-and-out order. His charming wife kept encouraging the speaker.

"Now, the three sisters all loved each other. And loved their parents and were loved in return, too. There was no wicked step-mother, no wicked witch, or even ugly gnome that kidnapped anyone. Kidnapped? Why, the folks in this tale didn't even know the word! Well, Abigail, the oldest, loved roses and white horses. Would you believe that when she grew up she married a man with red hair and owned a stable of white horses? And Bernadine, the second, drank grape juice in the garden with her brown puppy. Can you guess that when she grew up she married the owner of the biggest vineyard in all the land and raised brown dogs? Now Catherine, the youngest, she always sat on the beach and dreamed of faraway places across the sea."

"Let me guess," smirked Ed, "she married a sailor boy and traveled the seven seas always heading into the golden sunset."

Even Elaine winced. Being caustic because it was one's nature was one thing, but insults were unpardonable.

"Why, yes," answered Carry innocently. "That's exactly what happened. How did you guess?"

Ed couldn't believe what he heard. He was so taken back that he sat in silence, mouth agape. He even forgot to score Carry's ballot.

"Ah, so, it's my turn," said the accountant, collecting himself. "It's about time. Now here's a winner if I ever heard one, bound to win that champagne, eh, Skipper?"

No one said a word.

"Once upon a time there was this god."

Is that what he thinks of himself?

"And being a god, he could do no wrong. Superior to everyone, his

every wish had to be obeyed or he would eradicate the wrongdoer immediately."

I'm glad I didn't sail on his boat.

"Now, deep in the heart of this god was the knowledge that he was superior to all other gods, but they hadn't voted him as their Chief yet. He knew he had to do something. So he very cleverly -- how else do gods as great as him work? -- he maneuvered it so that he became the Chief. And once he was in, he fired all the others." Ed smiled broadly, confident he was setting things straight.

The sentiment did not go unnoticed.

"So nowGod, as He will be called from now on," continued Ed, "He went about assigning jobs. He made a former Chief a janitor. The janitor's wife he made the toilet cleaner, and the former Chief's right-hand woman he made the official Boot Licker. Now, one day..."

But they'd heard enough, and Pascal told him so.

"But Boss, I've only begun."

"Believe me, Ed, you're finished. Besides, the dock hand is signaling."

Addressing his crew, the Captain said, "UncleatHeave-Ho,mates, we're now in Lake Superior."

And with that, spontaneously the firm Pascal, diplomatic Elaine, and efficient Carry lived up to the boat's name and threw Ed off the fantail.

"What?" blubbered Ed. "I deserve the champagne! I told the best story!"

"Of course," chorused the crew. "And God deserves only the best. Full Immersion."

"But the water's COLD."

"Then walk on it."

With that, the crew manned the main and jib and set sail for Duluth.