Before today, this website was rather inactive. I know the knee-jerk reaction is to blame that on laziness and my horrible inability to set priorities. This reaction is very understandable, and partially accurate. But something else has been stealing away my time. It's something that many of you in this post-dotcom-boom down time will understand all too well, and the rest of you should be able to grok as well in only two words:

Job Training.

You see, due to certain incidents that were totally, inassailably my fault, I am no longer working for my now-previous employer. And since I'm responsible for feeding four kids and an inordinate number of varmints, I've had to move quickly towards securing a steady stream of income. Pickings are slim in coastal Maine, however. I've had to radically change industries and network with my neighbors with an urgency I never expected. But Nature has provided, both figuratively and literally.

I am working on a scallop boat.

I assumed I could find work as a hand on a lobster boat without much trouble. There are hundreds of boats docked here on the island alone, and even experienced fishermen like to avoid the more noisome task of baiting the lobster traps. But most of the lobstermen have come ashore until spring, and the few boats that still run out are fully manned. No time for a guy who knows "port" from "starboard" and not much else nautical.

The scallop season, however, has just started up. And through the connections of a neighbor, I've been able to land a spot on a boat captained by a guy who just needs a strong back for a few months, but not necessarily a seaworthy brain attached to it. Some locals say that scalloping is one of the easiest jobs that a fisherman will do over the course of a year, but it's already kicking my tail most thoroughly. Waking up hours before sunset and prepping the boat in the cold is the easy part.

For several purposes — insurance issues not the least among them — I won't refer to the real name of the captain, his vessel, nor the town from which we set out. As far as this site is concerned, I am a hand aboard the Nosferatu, docked in Somewhere Harbor and captained by "Smelly" Dave. My chief responsibilities are staying the hell away from the A-frame while the dredge is deployed, and aiming all vomit leeward when I can't handle ten-foot seas. I am sad I hadn't mastered the latter on the first trip out.

But at the very least, I've certainly got something to talk about on this site. If my fragile ego can handle it, you will receive daily updates on my incompetence at sea. Think of it as Paper Lion, only in installments, and with George Plimpton smelling like fish.