On Saturday, we visited the tugboat festival that was sponsored by a local museum. There was actually a nice breeze coming off the harbor, and we were able to go aboard a real, working tugboat, which had made the trip up from Louisiana for the occasion.
Samson is only a fan of loud noises when he is making them [see drums; see also yelling], so the horn on the tug, which every visitor got the chance to blow, was not his favorite thing. In fact, he looked like a little Rainman trying to walk along the topside of the boat with his hands on his ears.
Even so, we got to learn about the boat and what it does and even got a visit to the engine room. In case you're wondering, tugboat enthusiasts are cut from the same cloth as train guys. Which meant that Samson and I were treated to an impromptu seminar concerning maximum rpm, diesel fuel efficiency at over 6 knots, and other things I felt compelled to nod knowingly about but might as well have been discussed in Farsi. [Sidenote: I don't want to stack the deck here, but I'm guessing Samson is not facing a future in engineering. His main concern about the engine room was why there were so many fire extinguishers. And why it smelled like fuel.]
Vicki wisely decided not to take Jane on the boat. For some reason, Jane is convinced she can swim. She all but hurled herself off the dock to join the ducks bobbing in the murky water below us. And if it looks like I'm restraining her below, it's because I am. Samson made a little tug out of paper and Styrofoam, and I think Jane wanted to be the Kraken monster for his test voyage.
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