Pickering College - Voyageur Yearbook (Newmarket, Ontario Canada)

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pain. To say this, I realize, is unfair, but I will not apologize for eleven year- old impressionsg they lasted, after all, but one year. The effects, however, of being caressed lightly on the leg by an aggressive bunion or a horny toenail up- set my drowsy nervous system badly. Immediately thoughts of scorpions, tar- antulas, big man-eating snakes and crafty little poisonous ones would fill my foggy brain. I would lie frozen, sweating profusely until I aw-oke fully and, by a process of elimination, realized that it was just dear old granny. A series of these nocturnal experiences rather soured me on sleeping with grandmother, Also, Granny snored. It was a strange sound, a very strange sound. There was a Hwhuff' followed by a series of small decrepitations and ending with a swoosh , rather like releasing a balloon with the neck partly constricted. It was very distinctive. I perfected a technique for stopping her once she had started, which I pass on for the benefit of some other unfortunate. First, I would say fpianissimob Nana dear, you're sn0ring . This would elicit a grunt which blended in with the whuffs and snorts . I would repeat the same thing Cfortissimol and get the same result Cfortissimol. Then I would deliver her a solid kick in the shins, meanwhile pretending to be far gone in sleep. This would awaken her with a yelp Callegro, fortissimob and the next few moments would be filled with dire murmurings and rubbing of shinbones. She would then roll over and go back to sleep, the snoring merci- fully hushed. I would silently congratulate myself and follow suit. I don 'tt think the old dear ever caught. on, but mine would have been a short shrift indeed if she had. Since those days I have slept with a number of people with varying degrees of dissatisfaction. No matter whose the bed. I am never completely happy with the arrangements, Guest or host, I consider it my duty to crowd into the smallest possible corner of the bed and spend the night stiffly inhaling musty wallpaper or brassy bedframes, and hoping that in my morphean antics I won't seriously harm my bedfellow. -TERRENCE SUMNER l+'URECAS'l' There is What. nature has madeg what man has madeg Mayhap these will combine - and Malice, A green-writhing serpent, born of The turbulent chemical cauldron, Will destroy All. flfronz the Notebooks of 0'Brian. Born. who has 'written beneath this apocalyptic fragment thc 'macabre note Skeleton 0utlinc .j Twenty-two

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I tlun't want zilihis, f'ill'I'It'li, I wnnt tau-ts. Xu sir, I lisivt- nothing to stty. 'l'ht-n thnt will ht- sill. you may lt-nw. Sunu-lmw he- gt-t up. stumhh-el tu tht- flour in zi flzim-. opt-tit-fi it, :intl 1-lust-fl it quit-tlv ht-hinil him. Ile- wzilkt-tI, uutwzirtlly 1-ulm. inwzirtlly st-1-thing. to thi- stziirs. l'p unt- tlight, two, tlirt-1-, turnt-tl tluwn tht- tIim hzill tn his ruuni, cntt-rt-tl :intl sat stiftly att tho th-sk IICZII' tht- wintlnw. llc- luokt-tI nut un tht- sunny strc-t-t whilf- his mintl spun with tliscmim-rt-t-tl thoughts. 'l'ln- rztgt- ul' his faitln-r, the- hurt 4-yt-s ut' his inutht-r, how 4-uulcl ht- t'nc-t- tht-mf llt- hurit-fl his fam- in his Iinntls. Tinu- paisst-tl . . . Ili- tt-lt :it lust nothing' hut tlull ft-:ir :intl naiusc-a, ei lmpt.-lt-ssiu-ss in his stuinzivli. A girl vziuglit his c-yo :is sho wnllct-tl up tht- strt-1-t. Ili-r suppli- 1-rt-1-I hotly inuvt-tl with youthful grzivc. In his mintl ht-r gait 1-liziiigt-bl to at stitl' striilt- tu 2lt'l'0llIIllUtl2lit' he-r prutruiling' ht-lly :intl nrt-ln-il lmvlc. Ili- slnulth-rt-tl, 4-lust-tl his eye-s, tht-n turnt-aI away tu his flt-sk. Pivlcing' up his pt-n, ht- tlrt-w tuwzirils hini ai sht-Ot ut' paint-r with tht- st-lnml t-mhlt-ni un it, llc-nr l :itllt-r , ht- wrutt-. I tlmft knnw hun tu tt-ll ynu , , I'1z'ri-:lc tlicicics on .9100 Jing alon 0 THINK My l'RPISl+IN'l' Ixyrxlcsiux tu slmring' ai In-tl wus t'tn-int-tl quite- e-ztrly in lit'1-. NVlu-n I was :ilmut 1-lt-vt-n ye-airs nhl. Infusing' t-xigx-iii-it-s at nur plan-r quitt- ufte-n vtnnpt-llctl nn- tu slt-op with my grznnlinntln-r. Not that l minilt-tl :it tht- tinn-, for my g'rannIinot-lu-r was an t-xr-1-llt-nt han-lc st-rzitt-In-r :intl l th-zirly lim-tl lmving' my lieu-lc swzttt-lic-QI, I think slit- rzitln-r ln-in-tittt-tl tim, t'ur an-vm-tliiig In hor I was uuitt- at littlt- huntllt- of lic-tit :intl I was wt-It-nim-tl :is it lwtl- vunipzinimi hy Yill'ItbllN mt-mht-rs of my l':unily on t-nhl wintt-r nights. Ut 1'-tblll'St' t-ln-rv wt-rv il1sanIy'ziIitaig't-s tim. .Xt thi- tuna- l was viult-ntly zul- tlit-tt-4I tu tlill pit-lclt-s zintI liyt-rwurst whit-h l wuultl t-:it just ln-t'm'v ht-tltiint-. 'l'ht- rt-sultzint niglitnnirt-s wt-rv tcrrihlt- imlt-4-tl, :intl my punt' grznnlnmtlim-r wuultl stunt-tiines ht- tht- rt-4-ipit-nt nt' si vit-iuus kit-lt in tht- stunnu-li, ai 1-rut-l hluw tu tht- Oyc, or nt tht- yt-ry lt-:ist at hi4It-ous rurst- tlt-liyt-rt-tl with tht- l'ull puwt-r ul' my lusty. ynung lungs. l must say sht- took it rzitln-r wt-ll. Shi- nt-vt-r rt-tulizttt-tl hy' pint-liinug ur isnitt-lit-tl on nn- for swvzirin-- shi- just st-rntt-lu-tl my han-li until tht- th-mnns 11-tri-:att-tl rt-lui-taint-ly tn wln-ri-vt-r tlill pivklt- :intl liw-rwurst th-nnnns gn. Xnw l must 11-yt-:il tht- L'XlM,'I'Il'llt'L' that luis put nu- nfl' slt-1-piiig with pt-nplr to this tlziy. My g1'l'2llltIlll0ilIt'I' was tzintl still isll zi nuhlt-, luirtil-w'm-kiiig' wmnzin wh-n has manic- through tht- wnrst pruhlt-ins at rtig'gt-tl lift- 1-uultl thruw np, with hanln-rs Hyingx My Qi'ziiitliitntliei s tl-vt haul hurnt- tht- hrunt nf it, lmw't-vt-i'. Thx-y wt-rv twistt-tl :1n1I Hzittt-neil :intl hznl lurut- huninns whit-h g-:iw ht-r grt-:it Tuvfrlly-nrlf'

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ashore ODAY I SIGNED ON MY FIRST SHIP in six months. As we back into mid-stream, I watch the bright shore line of Montreal fall astern, and mutter At last, I'm away . Desperation alone made me ship on this unseaworthy tramp with her rusted hull and unkempt deck Work. The whole ship is in need of repair, from topping lifts to wash-ports. But at sea, fighting wind and weather, I'll feel safer and more confident on her, than I ever did these last six months ashore. We sailed on my watch, and having drawn bow look-out for the first trick, I turned to at eight bells. After hauling the mooring lines inboard, I settled down to the lookout 's usual duties. There is still lots of ice in the river, be- sides the usual conglomeration of tugs and lighters found in any harbour. So I am using the fog bell frequently to help the mate and pilot get the ship under way and out to open water. The river traffic is thinning out and I'm getting cold. I'll have to run aft to the mess and borrow a reefer. I had a good one of my own last trip, but that, along with a lot of other gear, went to the hock shops. Looking back at the cityls glow, fast disappearing, I remember last fall . . . . It was warm then and Montreal was our first. Canadian port in nine months. Being home again makes men do strange things, they throw cares to the wind, not realizing the prosperity they are enjoying. Nine months is a long time and a. lot of money saved. Why not spend a couple of months ashore? You can afford it , thought I. So I paid off with my fifteen hundred bucks, said so-long to my mates, and moved into the expensive type of hotel. Costly night-clubbing with equally expensive women kept me riding high, and life went along at a cracking pace for a couple of months-nothing like this shore life! I thought. One day at the bank I was rather shocked to find that there were only about two hundred dollars left in my account.. This meant I'd be looking for a ship very soon. Montreal closes to shipping in the winter and the last freighters had cleared a month ago. It was January and the port doesn't open until late March. I eouldn't stay here, so I closed the account. and left. the bank with the remains of my pay-off. Saying good-bye to the shack-up I checked out of the hotel, and stacked my gear in the bus depot. I then amblefl down to the waterfront, paying my way to some of the luckier panhandlers as I went. Joe Beef 's Tavern is a favourite haunt of mine and most seamen go there when ashore, so I stopped in to contemplate my next move, over a few beers. There were only two choices-East coast or NVest? St. -Iohn's has good ship- ping all year but most are just Atlantic crossings to 'U.K.' and the continent, and in the winter I can think of fairer climates than the Atlantic, especially if you're in the deck department. So that left Vancouverg its shipping is never any good but there are lots of foreign ships that sail short-handed out Twenty-thrcc