MIKE  POBOR

 

A Salty  AmeriCat

 

AMAZING ADVENTURES OF A TAIL-LESS  CAT  ON  A  KEEL-LESS  BOAT!               

 

                   SIXTH  TRUE  FAIRYTALE

 

      SEATTLE – PORTLAND, USA:

              CAT  WITH  THE  EDITED  TAIL

 

    From Seattle we are sailing to the nearest Tacoma: sister-city with Vladivostok. Many friendly and responsive people we meet here. In small shipyards of Don Slater and after Ron Streich we stay for routine repair: ceiling leaking there, rain falls on head; some shrouds necessary to change; some board sides shabby, require paint. From morning up to evening we are knocking, sawing, shaving and painting. And, of course, always viewing our new crew member.

   The longer we have Koozya – and we study him every day, attentively watching his habits – more kindly we love him.

    What an amusing little miracle we had acquired!

    Koozya’s stump is so small that the full-fledged, proud word “tail” simply does not apply. It is prettily decorated by a tuft of long and silky hair, black as pitch.

    Our new resident very emotionally uses this laconic means to express the whole gamut of his feelings – from ecstatic rapture to the deepest indignation. Felines use their tails as a second language.

    But Koozya does not have a tail. It is just like a black rose in a goblet!

    When he gets mad, his emotional indicator flies from side to side nervously and sharply.

   When he is in a merry mood, rubbing at our feet with the best possible disposition, his black extremity leaps about like a swallowtail butterfly.

    Seeing a bird standing on deck or on a railing, our purrer lowers himself immediately, assuming an attack position, ready to leap at his prey like lightning. Flattened against the deck boards, the four-footed hunter begins to rattle his rear end and crawl in a most amusing manner. Meanwhile his tail, what there is of it, waves like a military banner in the wind in anticipation of attack!

    Cats normally have identical paws, pointing forward, the pads on the hind paws synchronized with those of the forepaws when they walk. But we received a most unusual model as a resident.

    Koozya’s hind paws are covered with such long and thick growth that it looks as if he has put on a pair of broad and sumptuous trousers. In addition, these extremities are bent in the shape of a lyre! That is, his hind pads, unlike those on his forepaws, point sideways. And if you look at Koozya when he walks away from you, you can’t help laughing. He waves his rear end so grandly and casually, that no model such as Claudia Schiffer or Cindy Crawford could compete with him!

    Just try to imagine this black and white little imp:

    Two huge and curious green eyes…

    A face with an eternally mischievous expression…

    Instead of legs, four leaping springs, untiring from morning to night…

    And inside there is a small perpetual motion machine. And this little motor for days on end carries our Koozya from cabin to deck, from deck to mast, from mast to galley as if he has been wound up. A kind and amusing wood sprite has come to live with us. Like Figaro – Koozya here, Koozya there! Wherever cat goes - he improves our moods! He is like warm soul, good spirit of our expedition. Just in no circumstances he doesn’t want to be home alone: always crying. He was born such a companionable guy. Koozya’s mother has diploma of engineer-designer of clothes, sewing to her fluffy baby small backpack and we by any opportunity go to the beach by full crew.

    After hot day we love, when are burning candles of the stars, sit on deck and talk.

    Once cat asked me, what did I do in my previous, pre-seaman life:

    “I worked in Moscow, in the biggest newspaper around the world. With the daily circulation 22 million… I’ve been a reporter as long, as it was interesting for me… I flew to the North Pole, I crossed the equator, dove to the sea bottom and climbed mountains, met with many unusual people. But, unfortunately, newspaper lives only one day. After reading, together with your big thoughts and high emotions people throw out paper straight to the trash can… But the most horrible in any newspaper – editor…”

    “What kind of animal he is?” – curious Koozya.

    “You see, outside he looks like as a normal human being. But the more he is cowardly, the more money he gets. But it’s not all, in big newspapers two editors on each reporter. The journalist will write big and good article, but editor mercilessly cuts it, will make it small and bad. How to explain it for you more intelligible? For example, if you would have long and beautiful tail. But in yourself it was cut up to ars… hhmmm… up to back. That’s mean: your tail been e-d-i-t-e-d… That’s way once I decided never ever to depend on editors – only on luck and wind. And changed the pen to tiller, dusty blinds of cabinet – for fluttering sail… But right now you see what I am doing – adopting homeless cats in different ports…

    Koozya grows not by days – by hours. Young and curious sailor each minute has hundreds of questions.

    On TV shows documentary film about the war. He is immediately asking me, why people fighting? Should I know, why! But anyway all different reasons I am trying to reduce to the common denominator and answer: for money. The same time was born another question: and what is – money? I put my hand in pocket and taking out a few green shabby denominations... Cat looking them closer, rustling paper… And making terrifying his decision:

    “People kill each other… for paper?! – from horror his eyes turning to the circles. – I had much better opinion about double-legged creatures…”

    So am I, my darling!

    Or near the midnight on TV goes advertising of meat. Right here it hissing on frying-pan, tasty reddening, frying up to the brown crust… After knife slowly cutting rosy lump, a man putting juicy slice in mouth and from incredible pleasure screwing up his eyes under forehead… My unsophisticated collocutor begins to be indignant: well, you are together with mom teaching me – to eat before night is harmful. But here tempt by different delicious. You had a good supper, but these colourful pictures make my mouth water. And you don’t mind to put something else into mouth before bedtime. Why doctors didn’t prohibit so late advertisement of food?” – asking curious cat.

    “Because it’s profitable here for everyone. The owner of a TV station receives good money for advertising. The owner of supermarket is glad – people would buy from him more meat. And doctor is happy. He knows for sure absolutely– more people eat, especially meat, and before sleep – they will be much sicker…

    “Doctors want here people not to be healthy, but… ill?!” – is perplexed shocking Koozma.

    “Sure! They would treat people a little bit and will take from them a lot of paper, that is to say – money… Here each third dragging buttocks by ground – because that, who eat too much, buying a big close, fat and sick – he is beneficial to anyone… but skinny vegetarian, chewing lean grass, who needs him? Zero profit from him… Alas! Such the laws of free trade market…”

    “Free from what? From fairness?” – puzzled purrer. – “How it could be, that bad means good? – he is scratching his occiput. – No, such tasks not for cat’s brain…”

    For our bon voyage ceremony in Tacoma coming a few hundred citizens. They are very warmly bidding farewell to us and deputy director of port Tacoma Donald Meyer after ceremonial speech strongly shaking our hands. Further on our way we make a stop in Everett – concomitant of Seattle, where “Boeing” produces planes. Here for parting evening from close and far cities came over sixty people – our most close friends, whom we met recently. I am peering at their faces, which became so dear for us. About everybody you can write a book. We are hugging wonderful couple Paula and Ron Stoppler – they spent a lot of money and printed for us our paintings – now we would have something to sell and support ourselves. Our huge appreciation to Russian immigrants Valentina and George Nezin, who helped us a lot. Good lessons given to us by a famous English-Russian translator, who helped to communicate with each other our Presidents from Kennedy and Khruschev to Gorbachev and Reagan – Ross Lavroff. Mechanic Dan Tate reanimated  our engine. Always being supportive to us photographer Tim Crosby, home wife Cathy Sullivan, former military pilot, Coronal Ed Webb, Olga and Chris Staehli, marina owner Rob Trace and many-many other unique people with big hearts. In America very many good people. The friends waving to us from green hill and we are sailing through Puget Sound toward the ocean.

    Short stop in Townsend – wonderful family of Steve Bozak helping us to change the prop: now we have much faster speed. With pleasure we are visiting Port Angeles and Indian village Neah Bay. Indian leaders invite us for their celebration – Maka days. We see how proudly and naturally singing and dancing true Americans.

    Long time people had been expecting us in Aberdeen. Under the rule of young and energetic captain Les Bolton here acts historical maritime society. Small town  surprises many people: by the efforts of enthusiasts, in the best sailing traditions of the past centuries here was built marvelous brig “Lady Washington”. When this elegant, like descended from the ancient gravures ship coming in any port – everywhere huge crowds. And now we are mooring near the brig and hundreds people on the pier. Members of society – in old style sailor’s costumes, in pirate’s clothes. They are dancing for us, singing ancient songs of British sailors, firing to the air from museum’s value silicic muskets and pistols. Such a meeting, that you will never forget.

    Many acquaintances are giving advice: don’t go up by river Columbia. It’s a very dangerous place. During the high tide flow of the mighty river collide with the power of ocean and in mouth suddenly, without any wind are born huge waves. Even big ocean ships, picked up at the middle by crest, just simply breaking apart or turning somersaults, going straight to the bottom. Over 2000 (!)

vessels found here their flowing grave… But every year new and more boats lying on ground. Misfortune for somebody – godsend for others. Some local guys bought the diving gear. When next ship dies – they are diving and taking away everything, what they can. And this robbery – sorry, on local language it’s named business – alas! – flowering.

    Stubbornness – my luck. I decided to go against the flow anyway. Only once fleetingly I saw Portland at the night and was shocked by a magnificent panorama of it’s lights. It’s pulling me up there already… It’s why after high and rocky cape we are turning to the side of huge river. On horizon growing green mountains… Across the river stretching one of the longest bridges in USA.

    Near the entrance of Columbia I am calling to the local station of US Coast Guard. The commander is answering, that dangerously to sail up only during the high tide – especially when winter storms are urging on beaches colossal masses of the water. But anyway gentle lieutenant coming to meet us on white powerboat with red line across the bow. Just to be an honoured escort. The help very apropos, because hundreds armatures-fishermen came in this sunny day for fishing and dammed hole fairwater. And Coast Guard ship goes ahead and clears the way.

    Menacing Columbian bar known all around the world. The recruits of the Coast Guard coming here to train in rescue missions not only from the USA, but also from many other countries. In maritime museum in Astoria we see the documentary film about this rotten place. Unforgettable episode with the cargo ship around a hundred meters long. Somebody accidentally had taking shots on a clear day and low wind. Suddenly exactly at the center of the vessel around 25 meters raised a gigantic wave! On killer crest ship was broken for two pieces and in a minutes disappear under the water…

    After one hundred miles by restive river we enter in a wonderful, the most pleasant city in USA – Portland. Not too small, not too big, beautiful and friendly. With it’s own architectural face and calm character. People here walking by streets without hurry and fear – crime very negligible.

    Another important reason, why I do not pity this detour, because I am meeting here an incredible man Dennis Burkhart. Measured and gentle, staidly sparkling by eyeglasses, my new friend always enigmatically smiling by the ends of his lips. He owns a small video company. He creates documentary films about nature, of all 54 national parks of USA. At this time he is finishing film about Alaska and it trailblazers. And it’s important for Dennis to show history so, that everything on screen should move and been impressive. And suddenly up to his threshold sailed a live copy of Bering’s pocket-boat! Of course, real professional couldn’t lose such an opportunity. He goes together with us to the sea, shooting the boat under full sails and all crew in work for his film. Documentary Burkhart’s film with our participation many times has been shown on the leading American channels: “Discovery”, Travel channel, learning channel etc.

    We became with Dennis and his glorious family so tight friends, that deciding in future work together over film about our expedition. Friend-cinematographer gives to me small 16-mm movie camera and with it I will shoot now the most memorial events on our way. A separate film we will make about amazing adventures of Koozma Mikhailovich.

    Not any TV broadcast about expedition, doesn’t appear any article about us in all cities on our way, where would not be assigned watchfulness of our mouse patrol. Koozya becoming more and more famous. In each port autographs taking from him kids and adults, and, of course, beautiful cat-females. Everybody just pestering with questions, what happened with his tail, where and how it been lost. But Koozya doesn’t know by himself. I am always trying to bring a fresh spurt in this questing and every time I am telling different stories, that he had frozen his tail in Siberia, or it been accidentally cut off by a door, or we used his piece of tail for shark bait. Also I tell this tale:     “The best Russian food – borsht. But not everybody knows, that the tastiest borsht – with the small piece of cat tail. It’s gives for dish very piquant, absolutely unusual aroma… Our cat donated to us a little bit of his tail for each Christmas… Enough tail left for two celebrations… But what I discovered – tail grows back…

    The most merry, that many people truly believing in these tale about tail…

    A day before leaving Portland we return home with Irene enough late, but just stepping aboard, we are hearing cheerful: “Hello to daddy and mommy!”

    In dark corner of boat my eye sees Koozya and local beauty, smoke-coloured cat-female, who is wiping out her eyes by shawl. I don’t want to interfere this touching parting – we go downstairs in cabin. I laying in bed, turning off light, but long time cannot sleep. Soon I am hearing some scraps of conversation.

    “Koozya, - sounding thin girl’s voice, - I am so impressed by your intellect. So smart guys I never met here yet. From where this comes in yourself?”

    “My both parents have high pedagogical education! I received brilliant Russian education!”

    It’s so pleasant to have the sensible pupils…