Foc'sle, Sleep & Midnight Interruptions.

Ryan came in at 2:45 a.m. or so from the Sea Inn (the bar) to check on Max and I- both long since asleep in the foc'sle. He was probably a bit inebriated when he blurted out how well the rest of the Gypsy Fleet liked us both.

The night prior another inebriated midnight interruption, though by a Native. It was pouring rain, just a bit before 2 a.m. and I heard the door to the house shut. "Ryan?" I called- while Max snored on in oblivion. I was answered by a grunt- so, thinking him drunk, I asked a question. No response. Stumbling out of my sleeping bag, I noticed an unfamiliar form slumped over the mess. Immediately, I told him to leave and attempted to do so nicely. I called back to Max over my shoulder... "a little help up here." He replied in the affirmative but rolled back over in his rack within a second or two. I eventually 'coaxed' the eskimo off our deck and waited to see that he didn't hurt himself descending our makeshift ladder before going back to sleep.