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October 12, 2002
Mysteries of the Deep
Chaguarmas, Trinidad

Last night Curt went crazy tearing the boat apart trying to track down a mysterious buzzing sound. I had heard the sound too, but figured if the boat hadn't exploded already, we could make it through the night okay. We had settled in for the evening, in the cozy security of our current life in a marina when we started hearing the weirdest noise. At first, I thought maybe Cary had left a pager on board somewhere and it was going off- but then I knew he didn't have one, now didn't I? Then we decided maybe our bilge pump was going haywire and trying to pump water out of the bottom of the boat even though there was none there. No such luck. Curt must've asked me ten times if I had left some electrical device on and forgotten about. Every fifteen minutes or so, there would be a vibrating hummm, hum. And then another vibrating hum, hummm. What the heck could it be? At two in the morning he had his flashlight out, looking under all the settee cushions, in the wet locker, in the bilges- no stone was left unturned. He sat at the circuit breaker panel flicking switches off and on until eventually he just gave up.

This morning, we were discussing our plight with our neighbors and we were given an answer. Our friend John swears what we're hearing is the mating ritual of Trinidadian fish. Two seasons ago he was here and went through the whole late night routine himself trying to find the mysterious sound on board before he had heard an explanation from someone else. So far, this hasn't been corroborated, but at least Curt's stopped trying to tear the boat apart.

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