What is in John Garner's Pocket
You don't really know a boat until she's hauled. Plying her trade on the water, her best half's submerged out of sight. We think we recognize her - "oh, there's Odin," or "Shelby Rose," or "Twintube" - but what are we seeing? The lines of the deckhouse, the shape and placement of the wheelhouse, the arrangement of the stacks? These are the parts known as the superstructure - "super," in this case, meaning simply "upon." It's a little like saying we recognize someone by his hat. The boat's defining structure starts at the main deck and goes downward from there. What little we see of it is low on the horizon. There's the deck's line, along with a smattering of bulwarks.
Feature: Independence Day
What do you get when you spend 19 hours at a Fourth of July party onboard a tugboat in NY harbor? A sunburn, welts from hurled bagels, about 12,000 calories and some incredibly good memories, Don Sutherland found. Officially it's Independence Day, but everyone calls it the Fourth of July. Its inalienable rights accrue to the common man, whose life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness necessitate keeping things simple. And is any form of theater simpler than a fireworks dispay? No plot to keep up with, no dialog to follow, just plenty of action. America feasts during many of its holidays, but with varying complication - where Thanksgiving is an elaboration of side dishes and stuffings and sauces, July Fourth is plain barbecue. Sauces? What do you call mustard and ketchup?
