Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Lake Union Wooden Boat Festival 2012: That's A Wrap

Zanne and friend

Wednesday, July 4.  Sun and puffy clouds.  Zanne comes, too.  I introduce her to the usual suspects.  I check in at the Foss, the Betsy D, and the Boat House.  Add Nick Anastasio Gomez, known to most everyone simply by his last name.  He is on roaming duty, which means that as I do my rounds with Zanne he tags along.  Zanne and I are not just the first into the beer garden but are allowed in early by Tom.  Gomez joins us soon after.  And Zanne gains her latest nickname:  "Junior."

Bringing the crew aboard
Storm and train--make the noise, lead 'em on.  It's a more than a decent audience.  Zanne and Gomez go to the top deck of the Foss to watch and take pictures.  Zanne and my camera both, I learn, survive a fall down the ladder into the engine room.  Someone has left a gumby suit in my space...some sort of man overboard demonstration?  The Amie keeps passing, and I keep threatening, but my posturing is no match to the powers of Tinker Bell, who is on the bow, and the simple fact that they're out of pistol shot.


The Amie evades capture

Nearly perfect delivery.  Random kid comments.  A new tool:  When the attention span falls apart, I stop the whole operation and yell, "Are we all crew?"  The kids all shout "Aye!" in unison, and control is reestablished.  History, participation, fear, humor, improv, girls.  All the things that make story time work.

How we do

After a few more pictures with fans we return to the beer garden.  It has become crowded and not with mariners.  We have one pint each and lunch, but we're done.  We know that if we don't escape now, it will be a hard passage home.  As a pirate, I reserve my right to run away.  So I give up our 3:30 spot on the Betsy D and say farewells.  Gomez finds me and accompanies us out.  Zanne is seeking shelter under her little parasol, and I'm starting to pant.  It matters not.  It has been another fun and successful festival. the kids for pushing their tender boundaries, to the parents for trusting them to my scoundrel ways, to the staff and volunteers who are the best mates a dog like me could ever ask for, Junior!

Logan...until next time.

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