vienne-en-plage, march 2005

Freebooters!

Now listen up and listen tight: It's only some days until we meet at the Isle of Exner. Seven fleets docking, dozends of lousy selforganized buccaneers landing at Port du S...Savoir. We inspected the quays and they cracked in anticipation. We had a look in the charts and Godspeed! they returned multidirectional trajectories. We went to the beach, asked the all-knowing flotsam and it spit out "jetsam". Perfect. Hell, are we fluttering! Lampenfieber broke out aboard!
Weather forecasts report overall nice conditions and up winds, with stormy bursts and calms in between. The usual standards. But most important: We checked out the quayside bars! Our show piece tavern is called "Zum grünen Kakadu". From a local we learned that Hr. Schnitzler was a regular there. Schnitzler! The Austrian with the Austrian dish in his name! The Kakadu is such a marvelous place, the owner's a retired theatre professional. Powerful Karaoke System. You walk in and glittering electric letters read ÜBERALL BLITZT ETWAS WIRKLICHES DURCH. DAS IST JA DAS ENTZÜCKENDE. Fantastisk! Before you leave (usually you are not able to leave anyways) the bartender bends over and - with a heavy french accent - murmurs in your ear : "Wir spielen immer; wer es weiss, ist klug." Capisci?

You might have noticed by now, but it's an irregular and beloved tradition onboard the MFU to write some lines into the log once in a while or send out a message in a bottle.
(A year has passed since I wrote my note...)
The swarm keeps sailing the seven seas already for twentyfive moons. We haven't found Manoa yet, but who gives a shit? We have found you and you have found us. And now we find Manoa or something better. Un otra Weltumsegelung is possible! Ellen MacArthur, woe is you.

(Walked out this morning, don’t believe what I saw
Hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore)

Ahoy, longshore lubbers!
The Red Herring Mess. daegseingcny

ps.
Shipboy Eno sent over some soundings!
So Here Come The Warm Jets...

(singalong)

We are the buccaneers
We are the apron shaft

And we are here to let you take advantage
Of our lack of craft
Certain streets have certain corners
Sooner or later we'll turn your's

We are the buccaneers
We are the apron shaft

And thus throughout two years we've crossed the oceans
In our little crafts (row, row, row)
Now we're on the telephone
Making final arrangements (ding, ding)

We are the buccaneers
We are the apron shaft

Looking for a certain ratio
Someone must have crashed the server's database
Looking up and down the wiki-oh
Oh, oh, nothing there this time
Looking for a certain ratio
Someone said they saw it meeting in a butt club
Looking up and down the wiki-oh
Oh, oh, nothing there this time
Going back down to florida rodeo
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh know, here we go!

We are the lackture the captain's lackture let's get it understood
Let's get it understood
We are the doozers we are the cruisers let's get it understood
Let's get it understood
We are the rockers the karaokers let's get it understood
Let's get it understood
Most of us are sinkers, some of us sailors
And we've got doozer sticks and lots of rudder sticks
We saw the lovers the noledged lovers and they looked very good
They looked as if they could
We are the labor affective labor we act just like you would
We act just like you should