Camp Morehead By-The-Sea
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Camp Morehead By-The-Sea
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A Deep Sea Fishing Story One of the things that made Camp Morehead unique was Cap'n Purcell's willingness to empower his counselors to make decisions. Below is a short account of a problem encountered during a deep sea fishing trip and my solution. A solution which at the time seemed reasonable but after years of reflection, - I'm not too sure. The day began like many others. A before dawn awakening by Cap'n Jim, and a walk in the dark up to the Big House to organize the day's store of bread, crackers, #10 can of Jelly, #10 can of peanut butter, Oreo's, paper towels, big plastic pail (without lid) for mixing and, a big metal spoon. All of these things were loaded into a large square Merita Bread box. I remember these things well since I had done it many times and the spoon was a gift, given to me by my hometown girl friend Agnes. She had sent me the spoon after receiving several letters detailing the pasty gruel we made out of mixing the peanut butter and jelly together. Campers loaded onto the bus without incident, most with a full belly of breakfast, and each carrying the required towel whose function is never revealed. As the Carolina Queen pulled away from the dock, campers filled with excitement pondering how many fish they each would catch. The function of the towel was the farthest thing from their minds, and was only revealed later as the big boat began to pitch and roll. It was a rough day but not so rough as to warrant turning the boat around. Clearly a third of the campers were too sick to fish. Another third were sick but fishing. By lunch-time clean towels were a rarity, but then, those children with the most soiled towels were too sick to care. As was my practice, I set-up my box of lunch supplies in a corner down below in the ship's lounge. Corners of boats are a great place to work because by wedging your back into the corner you can keep your balance and still have two hands free to work. However, other than providing a useable corner, the ship's lounge is not a great place to fix lunch. It very crowded and, as was usual, on this day it was filled with sick campers, each with a filthy towel. Many were also covered with fish scales and guts, the result of pulling a big fish up from 100 feet of water. Mixed with the unspeakable smell of the towels, and fish entrails, was the smell of diesel fuel rising up from the bilge. I had begun my work of spooning the peanut butter and jelly into the plastic pale. It was blending nicely when I was distracted by some excitement up on deck. I went up on deck and discovered we had drifted into a school of Red Snapper. Every child, not too sick to fish, had hooked one. To see all those fish, and campers with smiling dirty faces, was the highlight of the trip. As I made my way back to the ship's lounge, I discovered someone has been sick again. Normally this was so common as to go unnoticed, but this particular person had not been sick over the side, or on the deck, or even on their towel or shirt. They had been sick on the floor, adjacent to, and in my bread box of lunch supplies. I attempted to stay calm as my mind raced though the limited options. We could go without lunch and fast until returning to Camp Morehead, but then I would be labeled as the first camp counselor who failed to provide the campers entrusted to him with lunch. There was food for sale on the boat but most campers had only the 50 cents issued to them by Cap'n Purcell to buy a drink for lunch. It seemed hopeless. Even today I remember clearly when I first thought that perhaps the lunch could be salvaged. My eyes began to scan the big bread box, and the shinny mess that was in and around it. While not hermetically sealed, the bread was still in its wrappers. It was at least theoretically possible to carefully remove the bread from its wrappers without contaminating it. Ditto for the crackers and Oreo's. The real problem was in the already mixed peanut butter and jelly in the open plastic pail. I studied the pail carefully. The pail was taller than the bread. So I reasoned that even though the outside of the pail was pretty nasty less contamination would have reached inside. There was however, some evidence of contamination on the inside wall of the pail. This I wiped away carefully. The really tough question was: Is the blended peanut butter and jelly contaminated? As those of you who have premixed these things before know, there is no way to distinguish (by visual inspection alone) what is a yummy gruel of peanut butter and jelly, and what is something else. In the end I chose the safest route and assumed that there was a thin layer of contamination in the pale. Thankfully I had my long metal spoon (thanks Agnes) which allowed me to scrape off the top layer of peanut butter and jelly, leaving me, and my charges, a safe and nutritious lunch. I didn't eat. Cap'n Arnie Hite
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