The kids and I agreed that tugboats were cool, and that we should go check them out. So we did.
It didn’t dawn on me until I was staring at a huge diesel engine, that a tugboat is nothing more than a really cool wooden shell around an amazingly powerful combustable beast. At that moment, both of my inadequacies were assaulted: carpentry and mechanics, all in one tiny little package.
I admit that while I got a lot of my dads genetic traits, the ability to work on engines was not one of them. Sometimes, I have felt less like a man because of my ignorance for anything combustable. I can change a tire – pretty quickly – that’s about it. My ineptitude for engines is second only to my inability around anything resembling carpentry – also a rather embarrassing blind spot in my life.
Funny? I can talk about. Cultural significance? That’s in my wheelhouse. If Elouise had asked me what exactly this was, I would have been forced to tell her that is where the engine fairies live.
We talked about how it’s funny to see big things and little things interact in a close way, especially when the big thing relies on the little thing.
With luck, we boarded more than 1/2 a dozen tugs with out falling into the harbor, or into an open engine pit. There were anchors, rusty chains, strewn pipe, soggy ropes, little barbecues, and all sorts of open tackle all over the place.
The only people that showed up for this little gathering were gearheads and babies with their parents. Not for nothin’, but the babies and parents were out of place.
Because I had the babies, everyone there could tell that I knew jack shit about any of this boating stuff, so I seemed to get a pass from being asked any questions about what we were all there to look at. Plus, I had my big SLR camera. Who does that but a tourist?
I was a little intimidated by all of it, mostly because I am jealous of the lifestyle. I have never caught a fish, lived on a boat, or been out to sea (I mean REALLY out to sea). And all of that stuff sounds super cool.
Plus, I have always wanted an anchor tattoo.
Being a land lover, I get to do lots of other great stuff that I wouldn’t if I were on a tugboat at the tip of the South America, like raise pigs, pluck carrots from the ground… play frisbee, so I’m not complaining.
I just realized today that there is just yet another thing to add to the millions of other cool things that I would like to try to cram into the tiny little window I have to experience everything that seems like I would like to to before I die.