Salty Spice

“Is the pressure washer on full?”

“Yes sir!”

“That looks like the sad dribble from my granddaddy’s pecker! Double check those boilers and make sure they’re on high!”

“Yes sir!” Jensen paused, “And if they’re not sir?”

Captain Sterling slowly turned away from the ship’s curved, mountainous bow disappearing into the sky. His bloodshot eyes on Jensen. “If they’re not you better hope to hell or high water that we can fix it! Otherwise you’re going to be up on a scaffold scraping those crusty bastards off with a sharp stick!”

“Sir, yes sir!” Jensen disappeared into the boiler room not sure what he was looking for. He could hear the low hiss of the gas burners. The dials on the boilers were all just shy of the red zone, which he assumed was good. All the valves were in the “on” position and no water appeared to be leaking anywhere. He ran back to Captain Sterling. 

“Boilers in good working order sir!”

“Then check the stick, man!” Jensen picked up the pressure washer wand attached to a flexible steel hose from the boiler room. As he started to reach for the tip Captain Sterling knocked it out of his hand. 

“Good God man, don’t get near the tip of that thing! It’ll take the flesh off your bone faster than a three-dollar Shanghai whore!”

Jensen was frightened at being struck, but then a look of confusion crossed his face. “I’m sorry sir, I don’t understand the Shanghai prostitute reference.”

“The water pressure coming out of the wand … dangerously powerful! How else could we blow all these barnacles off the hull of a ship?”

“I understand the water pressure, and I appreciate your help. But I don’t get the joke.” 

“Jensen, that’s not really the point. It’s a safety issue. Never get any part of yourself near the tip of the wand. It’s very dangerous.” 

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Jensen paused, looking at the wand a moment, then looking back at Captain Sterling, “I just don’t understand the ‘three dollar whore’ thing.”

Captain Sterling let out a deep sigh. “Flesh from bone, you know …” He nodded and moved his hands like he was trying to waft a scent up to his face. “She’s in a hurry. Because she doesn’t make much per customer. She has to have a lot of turnover.” Jensen was squinting at Captain Sterling, trying to understand. “Jensen, if I have to explain it to you—forget it. Just be careful. That pressure washer can cut through you like a hot knife through butter. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly sir,” Jensen said. “I’ve seen a hot knife go through butter. I’ll be more careful. Thank you, sir.”

“Think nothing of it, Jensen. We’re here to do a job but we want to do it safely.”

“Yes, sir,” Jensen said, as he picked up the wand, careful to point it away from himself. He pulled the trigger and a dribble of water appeared. “Just like your grandfather, right sir?”

“Yes, yes, that’s right. There must be something in the line blocking the flow. We’ll need to depressurized the boilers and disconnect the hose and check to see what’s in there.”

“Yes, sir!” 

“Now, do you know how to open the boilers?”

“Yes, sir! I’ll screw those knobs faster than a prostitute in Shanghai who only charges three dollars!” As Jensen started to run off to the boiler room, Captain Sterling called him back. 

“Jensen, what are you talking about?”

“I’m going to go open the valves to start emptying the boilers, sir.”

“Yes, good man. But what was that about the knobs?”

“Talking like a sailor, sir. Salty language.”

Captain Sterling rubbed his beard. “Look lad, I may have been a bad example for you. Given the state of things, strictly speaking you shouldn’t be saying things like that. And neither should I.”

“Sir?”

“It’s offensive, Jensen. And there’s no call for it.”

“Offensive sir? To who?”

“Whom. Women, for one. And men. Polite people. I mean, would you talk that way to your grandmother?”

“No sir. She’s dead, sir. Impetigo.” 

“Then to your mother.” 

“She’s dead too, sir. Carnival accident.”

“Do you have a sister?”

“Yes, sir. Louise, sir.” 

“Would you talk to her that way then, Jensen?”

“No, sir. She’s deaf, sir. I’d have to sign it to her, but I’m not sure I’d be able to spell Shanghai.”

“The point is Jensen we should be professional and precise. Colorful language may be entertaining but it can lead to confusion. Better to be clear in our communication.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

“I’ll help you get the boilers turned off and depressurized. Then we’ll see if we can flush the line and get to work blowing those barnacles off the bow.”

“Sir?” Jensen asked. 

“What is it lad?”

“Blowing the barnacles, sir?”

“What’s that now?”

“Y’know,” Jensen nodded, moving his hands like he was trying to waft a scent up to his face. “Blowing the barnacles, sir?” 

“Oh yes, thank you Jensen,” Captain Sterling said. “We’ll get to work removing those fucking barnacles from the ship.” 

“Sir, yes sir!”

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