I am not superstitious. I regularly spill salt (water). I try to avoid walking under ladders, but only because it is a prudent thing to avoid. I have no fear of black cats, except on account of my occasional allergies. There is however no reason to tempt fate when it comes to boat names, and besides- whiskey!
Allow me to explain. We’ve stated earlier that we intend to change the name of the boat from “Old Salt” to something else. That something else being TBD/TBA. The first step in doing that is properly de-naming the boat, which of course involves becoming an alcohol-soaked-supplicant to the gods of wind and wave. So I busted out the grinder and (with much panache) removed the last vestige of the boat’s old name.
Ryan spoke some words, the contents of which can be found here.
Whiskey was poured, a few for the boat, a few for us, a solid measure for old Neptune, and with the help of Ryan’s dad, step-mom, and their two dogs, the ceremony was complete.
Hopefully soon I’ll have some minutia-ridden technical discussions for you good folks, “Go dté tú slán.”