Loch Morgan July 14-18, 2010

In the 11th year of this Morgan's Compaignie tradition, XX chromosomes were allowed to play. Of course they couldn't be wimpy, froofy chromosomes, but strong and "manly". Belching and crotch-scratching were optional.



The camp lies across the Loch, on Ryan's Cove. This year the water was high, which presented some boat-mooring challenges. In typical Siren fashion, these challenges were creatively & effectively met.

The mornings were lazy, with waking and breaking fast lasting until about 10:00, when our first rum ration was poured and the colours were raised.



Then it was out on the water for a sail to the sand spit. Because of the westerly ocean breeze, tacking to the spit took a goodly portion of the midday. I got more experience working the jib and being ballast.



On Friday, Pierre (Pia) met us on the spit, after hiking in from Dry Lagoon. As most of us lunched on the spit, Pierre transformed into a siren, and helped the Otter ashore in a calm spell. Upon our return to camp, Harvey-sensei made picnic-style Tea for all takers. A sake party followed, complete with camp sushi by Michael. In the evening there was gambling in the tavern tent and a campfire outside.



Saturday saw the annual treasure hunt. Boats darted across the water as swiftly as the wind would allow. Michael piloted the gin boat, delivering G&Ts to thirsty sailors. One clue was missing, but fortunately the architects of the hunt recalled the words to it, and we moved on. Later, the missing clue was found in a geocache by the boat dock, apparently moved by someone who didn't appreciate treasure hunts. At least they didn't follow the clues and find the treasure.



On the spit, we unearthed a "teaser" treasure that contained yet another clue. We played a game of bocce on our way back to the boats, stopping to visit an attractive wee wooden boat and its crew. Nearby, sunbathing lasses waved and flexed lithe gams at the sailors.

The final treasure was hidden back at camp, and was properly distributed into rum cups upon discovery. The chest also contained "educational materials" which no doubt were useful to many of this lot.



A few stinky sailors took an afternoon dip in the cove, and played sea lions on the floating dock. The Lord Chamberlain suffered the indignity of becoming a diving board for some. John learned to be cautious about accepting drinks from disreputable sorts like Michael.

The evening saw more drinking, gambling, smoking and singing (if you call what we do singing).



On Sunday morning, all but Bruce & Rauri broke camp, and began loading boats for the return to the mundane world.