Naming the Nevinston

Since I seem to be the only person who took pictures that isn't about to give birth, I guess I shall tell the interweb about the naming of the Nevinston.

On Sunday, we loaded up the car, the kids, and the canoe (for the second time in the eight years that we have owned it) and went to Arkabutla Lake for the naming of The Admiral's sailboat that he spent countless hours building in his garage while the rest of us lazed in front of scrabble boards, rock-n-romp bands, playgrounds, and duck ponds.


We arrived about an hour after everyone else. (Everyone being Team Alley and Team S.A.M. of course--Team Chockley was on sick leave.) The Admiral and RJA were campside fondling the boat which was still attached to The Admiral's car. The mamas and kiddos were happily floating in the muddy waters as if it was the French Riviera. The monkeys wasted no time joining them.





Now I'm sure S.A.M. will not like me posting that picture of her in all of her glory, but damn. She looks good and the interweb deserves a peek!

After a good soak and a quick snack, we began prodding the Admiral to officially start the naming ceremony.


I saw a side of The Big A that I had never seen before. He had a speech all typed out and copied for each of us (who could read) so that we could particpate.

Part I
THE ADMIRAL: “For thousands of years, we have gone to sea. We have crafted vessels to carry us and we have called them by name. These ships will nurture and care for us through perilous seas, and so we affectionately call them "she." To them we toast, and ask to celebrate the NEVINSTON.

ALL Y’ALL: Raise your plastic glass and shout, "TO THE SAILORS OF OLD…TO THE NEVINSTON." Take a sip.

THE ADMIRAL: "The moods of the sea are many, from tranquil to violent. We ask that this ship be given the strength to carry on. The skeg is strong and she keeps out the pressures of the sea."

ALL Y’ALL: Again the glasses are raised, and the assemblage shouts, "TO THE SEA...TO THE SAILORS OF OLD...TO THE SEA!" Take another sip.

THE ADMIRAL: "Today we come to name this lady NEVINSTON and send her to sea to be cared for, and to care for the Cline family. We ask the sailors of old and the mood of God that is the sea to accept NEVINSTON as her name, to help her through her passages, and allow her to return with her crew safely."

ALL Y’ALL: Again, with the raising of the glasses, "TO THE SEA...TO THE SAILORS BEFORE US...TO THE NEVINSTON. Follow with a last, long sip by all.

We gathered around as The Big A blythely ignored camp rules and doctor's orders by pouring us all a cup of champagne.


Cups in hand, we faced the four winds and then yelled and drank when instructed to do so by our handouts. The monkeys didn't like not being the center of attention and did their best to turn The Big A's attention away from the Nevinston.

Exhibit A: Jiro attempts to board the boat on dry land.


Exhibit B: S and Miss M attempt to board the Admiral.


Once all of the champagne was gone, it was time to give the Nevinston a drink. Guiness and...some other alcoholic beverage I can't remember. S and Miss M are clearly confused by The Big A purposely spilling a liquid on his most prized possession.


Last but not least, Miss M threw a sprig of pine (?) on board and the Nevinston was ready to go. We all took turns taking a spin since the Nevinston only seats two adults and one or two monkeys. (When it was the monkeys' and my turn, they acted terrified for the first 15 minutes, then completely confident that they could sail it themselves on the last 15.)

Here RJA gallantly helps Miss Big A aboard as The Admiral holds her steady. Such gentlemen!


Meanwhile Warren took the remaining monkeys and mamas on canoe trips around the perimeter.


We ended the day with a cookout, a playground run, a busted chin, and an unscheduled appearance by Bitch Mother (not pictured). Unfortunately the busted chin was Satchel's and required stitches. We drove back to Memphis and spent the next 5 and a half hours in the Germantown Methodist E.R. waiting for a doctor to spend 30 seconds gluing Satch's chin back together.