The leaves on the maple trees up the road had turned shades of gold


and scarlet, turkeys everywhere were fattening themselves with absolutely no thought of the future, and onboard our sailing vessel Inuksuk, I braced myself for Thanksgiving dinner — meal preparation in our galley takes both ingenuity and luck. Pots and pans and space are limited, our appliances tax our electrical breakers to the max, and our propane oven is an old Finnish model we bought second-hand off an old fishing boat. “Darling,” I said to John, “Is


there any hope you can do anything about the thermostat on our oven before I try to cook another turkey? “What thermostat?” John asked. “Exactly my point,” I said. “The


oven gets hotter and hotter until the turkey bursts into a ball of flame. And not that I’m complaining, but the oven is so small the only bird I can fit into it has died of a wasting disease.” “Can’t you just dismember the


turkey in the sink with the bread knife like last year?” he asked. “Honey,” I said, “When last


year’s guests realized I’d sawn off the drumsticks and jammed them into the body cavity, we never saw them again.” “I thought it was your gravy that


scared them off,” he said. “Who can make gravy when you


have to share the pot with the canned peas?” I asked. “I was under a lot of pressure. And as for the squash, that wasn’t my fault.” “Yes it was,” John said. “Nobody ever explained to me


that, given the right circumstances and an old microwave, squash explodes.” “Well you know now,” John


said, “and so do the neighbors. I told everyone.” “Thanks, Darling,” I said. “Stovetop


stuffing OK again this year?” “Do I have any choice?” he asked. “No,” I replied. “Can you make a few less mashed


potatoes this time?” he asked. “We ate leftovers for weeks.” “You have to FILL the crockpot.”


I was willing to explain. “And our crockpot can hold eight pounds of potatoes. Otherwise the food overcooks.”


Meal preparation in our galley takes both ingenuity and luck.


“Like the peas?” “I told you that wasn’t my fault,”


I said. “Doubling pots always flaps me, and besides, I panicked when the squash exploded.” “The coffee was good though,”


John said. “It was.” I was quick to agree.


“Though we blew the breakers twice brewing it. With all the appliances we own, no wonder we use more electricity than anyone else on the dock. We’re just lucky we didn’t blow the dock breakers. That would’ve made us unpopular.” “We already were unpopular.


I heard there was a groundswell movement among the neighbors to do an SPCA intervention about that turkey.” “The turkey was DEAD,” I


argued. “The cranberries were good too,” John said placatingly. “You can’t miss with canned


Thanksgiving On Board By Catherine Dook


cranberries,” I said. “I’m quite clever, aren’t I?” “You are, my little Muffle-


Wumpie,” John replied. Just then there was a knock on


the hull of the boat, and our neighbor Screaming Liver poked his head down the companionway. “Hey Catherine,” he said. “I heard you’re planning Thanksgiving Dinner, so before you get started I rushed right over to invite you and John to a turkey dinner on my dock. Pot-luck. Bring whatever you want.”


“Thank you, Steve,” said John.


“We’ll bring the cranberry sauce.” In his eyes there were tears of relief.


Catherine Dook’s, latest boating book,


Offshore, is available at oberonpress.ca Her other two novels, Darling, Call the Coast Guard, We’re on Fire Again and Damn the Torpedoes are published by Touchwood Editions 1-800-665-3302


48° NORTH, NOVEMBER 2011 PAGE 35


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64  |  Page 65  |  Page 66  |  Page 67  |  Page 68  |  Page 69  |  Page 70  |  Page 71  |  Page 72  |  Page 73  |  Page 74