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Erin played a last minute gig at Kelly’s Logan House Friday night. It was Gable Music Venture’s songwriter showcase, which they have brought back after a long break. It was a really fun night with some incredibly talented artists.
Wrote this Saturday afternoon as part of a skirmish (1 hour writing challenge where everyone uses the same title/theme/topic). Could probably use another verse and definitely some better production, but I’m happy with it. 2018-02-03.
First day of FAWM 2018! Trying to blog about it this year more than the past few years.
Thursday was a long day. I wanted to add some harmonies and other instruments to this. I didn’t finish writing and recording this rough demo until 1:30am though, so I didn’t do that. Also I forgot how to sing at the end of the bridge, oops.
Simple song. Somehow this landed in a weird space between country and worship. 2018-02-01.
My friend Erin asked me to join her family on vacation in Maine this week. I saw this wonderful state for the first time in June on my epic road trip with Cara, so I jumped at the chance to come back up and stay in a cabin and work on writing and recording new music for our duet formerly known as The Honey Badgers (side note: we need a new name that isn’t stupid, so let us know if you have any cute suggestions). We left late Thursday evening (after Jefe), and Erin drove through the night until we stopped for sleepin’ in Connecticut. We got up early and her dad drove the rest of the way into Maine. Friday we got to bike around and explore the Boothbay area and eat pizzer and ice cream and drink local beers nom.
Saturday we got up really early (7am in vacation time) and went down to the docks with Erin’s Uncle Ben to fetch his boat. This thing was a fancy 21′ powerboat with a shiny wakeboard tower on top. It didn’t fit in too well with the other wonderful sailboats that surrounded it, but she sure did go fast. We stayed in the tiny bay waterskiing and wakeboarding and waiting for the fog to burn off. It never really did, but we decided to go on a risky island adventure anyway, using my phone GPS to navigate (the captain didn’t have a compass on board >.<).
We went about six miles out to this magical state-owned nature preserve island called Damariscove Island. The caretakers were the only two people who lived there. Apparently they have a non-native European Fire Ant infestation that some unknowing European perhaps brought in on their feet. Sad story. Ants. Honey badgers.
The north side of the island is reserved for birds only (jealous), so we hiked a couple miles on the south side around the freshwater pond. There were lots of ruins from past ages of inhabitants, both people and cows. It was a fishin’ and lobsterin’ base for a while, and before that lots of colonial-type people lived there, and before that some injuns went there to fish occasionally. Anyway, it was beautiful and the hike was nice and there were lots of rocks and berries and sea tomatoes. As we left the harbor to return home, but before I had booted up my gps to check where we were going, the captain (Uncle Ben) somehow got turned around and was heading back towards the island as soon as we had passed the safety buoy that warns of shallow rocky waters. Moments after I realized this and told him, we heard a very nasty sounding crunch come from the propeller hitting a rock shelf. We all winced. The turning maneuver was almost complete, but we started to lose speed. The engine was still running, but we weren’t accelerating. This was bad news since we were starting to drift towards the island and the rocky waters around it. Tom and I started to paddle as Ben dove under to check the propeller. She looked fine, but something in the transmission/drive shaft must have been knocked around because she wasn’t spinnin’ at all. Luckily the tide was going in and pulling us towards the mainland, but we were still six miles out at sea ): View a map down below. Damariscove Island has the marker on it:
Ben called 911 to get the coast guard, but nobody was a dying child, so they only helped us by giving us the Seatow phone number. They charge $250/hr, so we called around to other friendly boat owners. In the end we got picked up by the East Boothbay Harbor Master. That name sounds pretty fancy, but I think he just wanted something to do on a foggy day. They radar’d us and eventually picked us up about about a mile north of where we had originally called for help (the middle star above). The northernmost star on my map (near Squirrel Island teehee) is where a family friend was going to switch off and tow us back to our harbor, but the Harbor Master neglected to tell us that he was bringing us all the way back to his harbor, so our friend made a fruitless dangerous trip out in the fog in vain ): We got back safely to land about three hours after the propeller had failed. The only challenge for me was that nobody had brought food or water on the boat, so by the end we were all dehydrated and hungry. I feel like I always just assume parents/adults are supposed to handle things like that, forgetting that I’m 22. Lesson learned. And we’re all alive.
Anyway, that was a fun adventure.
The rest of our time in Boothbay was spent biking, kayaking, swimming, and eating too much. Most importantly, we got a lot of writing done and some recordings were made. Lots of late night noisemaking, since midday sessions had too many dogs and children barking outside. Hopefully I’ll get some mixes online soon. Pictures below!
And now I’m sitting in the Portland, ME airport. I have to go back into work tomorrow. There was an earthquake in Virginia (not too many power outages to worry about thankfully), so my flight to BWI was delayed and I took an offer to take an even later return flight in exchange for a free round trip to anywhere in the AirTran network yay. That’s like a two for one deal in my mind. Maybe even a three for one deal, since this flight is just one direction. I sort of actually miss Delaware. Maybe I just miss Newark. I think what I’m trying to say is that this might be the longest length of time in which I haven’t been to Deer Park in the past year. Leaving my guitar behind to be driven home later in the week is hard too. Oh white people and their devastating problems.