We've only seen it a few times, but when we have caught it, there is usually a boat DH has boarded. I'm sure if DHs play "do you know so & so" for a while they will come up with someone. CG is smaller than the NYPD.
I'm not sure how they regulate lobster, but 10-12 years ago when we lived in Kodiak, they still had "openers" for crab, halibut, etc., instead of IFQs. It was insane! All the menfolk in town were were out at sea (just about everyone was CG or fisherman) & the radio station (note-not plural) would stay on the air all night long!I was night manager of a hotel, so I enjoyed the music. (Note to college students - A small island in Alaska will not provide you with the best job opportunities after graduation) Of course you could tell when the DJ needed a nap. "Coming up next: The Wall by Pink Floyd."
DW and I went to PV for our anniversary a couple of years ago. She swore she'd never go back!To copy from another travel chat site, I will refer to the timeshare sales hawkers as "sharks"....when we left the customs area we steped into THE SHARK TANK!
Essentially this is DMZ *before* you get into the arrivals hall where a BUNCH of sharks sit at desks forcing you to run the gauntlet!
Even walking around various markets and plazas you'd find them swimming around!
Okay, what exactly did I agree to be queen of?
Mine middle name is...well....it's Rose........as in Mary Rose.......or MR.......or Carmen Verandah..........or O'Blender..........
anything else swabbies??
From a paper entitled:
FEMINIST FIELDWORK IN THE MISOGYNIST SETTING OF THE RUGBY PITCH
In a semi-inebriated state, I surveyed the loud and rakish crowd of men and women. For the past two hours, nearly everyone at this "rugby party" had been consuming enormous quantities of draft beer. Many of the men had also been singing several different rugby songs in an increasingly feverish tone. All of this activity had been taking place in the very cramped quarters of the so-called rugby house. Suddenly, without notice, the whole atmosphere seemed to change. Many of the men started a deafening chant, "Alouette! Alouette! Alouette!" All of the rugby players (male) surrounded a woman who had previously and naively agreed (this was her first rugby party) to be their "rugby queen" so that players could serenade her with a "nice" song. The remaining women and men present formed a loose circle around the players. Without even asking the rugby queen, one of the larger players hoisted her effortlessly up onto his shoulders. Everyone--players, spectators, and even the rugby queen herself--were now all cheering and chanting "Alouette." Finally, one of the club leaders screamed, "Shut up. Shut up. It's Alouette time!" Within seconds, everyone quieted and the players started to "serenade their rugby queen" with the following song, sung to the tune of "Alouette"
Ummm - can't post the song...
When I had witnessed the singing of "Alouette" in the past, several times the rugby queen "willingly" complied with this chant by flashing the participants with her breasts as a means of stopping the song.
Depending on the team, just flashing your ...ummm....bra is perfectly acceptable. Thank goodness
Side note - ya gotta love the social sciences. I have my students read a scientific study about pick-up lines in one of the communication classes I teach.
Nope. Sharkbait is MY job.
