Tumgik
#south beach tow
Text
44 notes · View notes
jaes1lvr · 10 months
Text
youtube
ts is so funny BERNICE THE GOAT ‼️
5 notes · View notes
floridafasttowing · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
misojunnie · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)
does love ever cross the line?
# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au
# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me
# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim
# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s
# a/n: hi y’all! I got this request a long time ago and only recently got to it, so I hope y’all like! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist! pls enjoy <3
# word count: 13.2k
# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin open!
# unable to tag: @hohohobo
this was written upon anon request; check it out here!
when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.
[more under the cut!]
˗ˋ☆ˊ˗
Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.
“It’s too tight.”
“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”
“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.
“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.
“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.
“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring.
“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”
“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”
“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”
“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.
“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.
“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.
Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.
He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.
˗ˋ☆ˊ˗
On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.
“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.
“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”
“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”
“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.
“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”
“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”
“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”
“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”
“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”
“I hope so.” you laughed.
“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.
“Let’s show these people who our company is.”
˗ˋ☆ˊ˗
694 notes · View notes
boatmediatourney · 9 months
Text
🚢Boat Song Lineup & Links🚢
*links are on the boat emojis. most of the artists listed are specific to the linked versions, and many are folk songs with no single or known author. all the links are youtube links.*
🚢 32 Down on the Robert MacKenzie (Due South), Paul Gross
🚢 A Pirate Looks at 40, Jimmy Buffett
🚢 A Sailboat in the Moonlight, Billie Holliday
🚢 The Ballad of Gilligan's Isle (theme song)
🚢 The Ballad of Harbo and Samuelson, Shanghaied on the Willamette
🚢 The Bonnie Ship the Diamond, The Corries
🚢 Bluenose, Stan Rogers
🚢 Boat on the River, Styx
🚢 Canadee-i-o, Nic Jones
🚢 Come Sail Away, Styx
🚢 Day-O (Banana Boat Song), Harry Belafonte
🚢 Friggin in the Riggin, The Sex Pistols
🚢 Ghosts of Cape Horn, Gordon Lightfoot
🚢 Go to Sea No More, The Dubliners
🚢 The Good Ship Kangaroo, Planxty
🚢 Hard on the Beach Oar, Johnny Collins
🚢 Haul Away Joe, The Eskies
🚢 Highwayman, The Highwaymen
🚢 I'm on a Boat, The Lonely Island
🚢 I'm Shipping up to Boston, The Dropkick Murphys
🚢 James Craig, The Maritime Crew
🚢 The Last Bristolian Pirate, The Longest Johns
🚢 Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her, Coda
🚢 The Leaving of Liverpool, The Dubliners
🚢 The Little Boat, The Wiggles
🚢 Lord Franklin, Pentangle
🚢 Lowlands Away, The Corries
🚢 Lukey, Great Big Sea
🚢 The Mariner's Revenge, The Decemberists
🚢 Marie Christine, Gordon Lightfoot
🚢 The Mary Ellen Carter, Stan Rogers
🚢 Mingulay Boat Song, The Corries
🚢 Mr. Andrews' Vision ("Titanic: A New Musical"), Maury Yeston
🚢 The Mistress, Dramtreeo
🚢 My Sails Are Set (One Piece live action)
🚢 Orinoco Flow, Enya
🚢 Overture/Prologue/The Launching ("Titanic: A New Musical"), Maury Yeston
🚢 The Pacific, Dave Malloy
🚢 The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything (Veggie Tales)
🚢 Proud Mary, Ike and Tina Turner
🚢 Race to be King, Seth Lakeman
🚢 Rolling Down to Old Maui, Stan Rogers
🚢 Roll the Old Chariot (sea shanty)
🚢 Round the Cape, The Longest Johns
🚢 Row, Row, Row your Boat (nursery rhyme)
🚢 Running Down to Cuba, Colm McGuinness
🚢 Sailing, Christopher Cross
🚢 Sailor's Farewell (sea shanty)
🚢 Santiana, The Longest Johns
🚢 Santiano, Hugues Aufray
🚢 Saturday, Jonathan Eng and Stephanie Hladowski
🚢 Save the Whales!, Country Joe McDonald
🚢 Ship in a Bottle, Fin Argus
🚢 Ship of Fools, The Grateful Dead
🚢 Song for the Bowdoin, Larry Kaplan
🚢 Song of the Volga Boatmen, Soviet Army Chorus & Band
🚢 Son of a Son of a Sailor, Jimmy Buffett
🚢 South Australia, Johnny Collins
🚢 Tow Rope Girls, Daniel Kelly
🚢 The Wellerman (sea shanty), Nathan Evans
🚢 The Wild Cape Horn, Friends Of The Shipyard and Fisherman's Fayre
🚢 The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Gordon Lightfoot
🚢 Warlike Seamen, Jerry Bryant and Starboard Mess
184 notes · View notes
sourapplesauces · 2 months
Text
Ohg yeah im sick again idk why or how but uh ive been watching South beach tow for like 5 hours and i cant stop help
Tumblr media
10 notes · View notes
all-pacas · 11 months
Text
life's a beach!
I started this fic ages ago, just after 3 Hopes was released and I was all about Claude's hot girl summer, and then I never finished it? But I still really liked it? So whatever, I don't know if I can ever come up with a proper ending but it's still 2k of pretty good so
-
By the time the Federation army returned, blistered and exhausted, to camp, Shez and the Ashen Demon had already become fast friends. Well: Shez was chatting away at the Demon’s right, and the other woman did not seem entirely disinterested.
Lindhart had been in the Federation Army longer than even Holst. Lindhart also liked to use his technical status of Prisoner of War to get out of tiring, sweaty battles, particularly messy situations like Empire generals going rogue and attacking Federation forces despite us having a very clear treaty about that sort of thing. Still, it was impossible to go for more than a week around here without listening to Shez bragging about how she was totally gonna defeat the Ashen Demon someday.
“Are you friends now?” he asks as the women stroll by, the Ashen Demon following her father, Shez and for some reason Alois like ducklings in tow.
“Of course!” Shez says proudly, slapping her palm to her chest.
The Ashen Demon’s expression does not change.
“I thought you were going to kill her. Dramatically. Theatrically.” Not that Lindhart wants that, you understand. But Shez says that sort of thing a lot.
“Nah, I’m over it,” Shez says cheerfully.
The Ashen Demon’s expression does not change.
Claude, a manic gleam in his eyes, materializes out of nowhere. “Lindhart! Just the man I wanted to see. You’re going to help me write a strongly worded letter to Edelgard.”
“Alas, I am merely a prisoner of war and—“
Claude hooks him around the neck with an elbow, and Lindhart doesn’t resist. What a mess. Claude pauses. Stands with his bait hooked and runs his free hand through his hair in the off-chance that will help.
“I trust you found your new contract in order?” he asks Jeralt with reasonable formality.
Jeralt tries not to smile. He’d had a six-month contract with the Empire and knew their new boss was half a kid herself, but never had occasion to meet her Imperial Majesty. But this kid is in charge of Leicester? Goddess above, Byleth’s got at least a couple years on him, and Jeralt still thinks of her as half a baby. Claude has the sleepy-looking fellow in a headlock, just brushed his hair back, and already has a cowlick again. Saints. “Terms were fine,” he says calmly. “Generous, even.”
“Well, I know better than to let an opportunity pass me by, and after the troubles your men have given us these past months…” The kid’s gaze falls on Byleth, observing quietly.
“I mean, trouble is putting it strongly,” Shez interjects. “I could have taken her. They didn’t give us trouble. At most, a little —“ she falters, looking for a word.
“Trouble?” Byleth suggests.
“My neck hurts,” the man in a headlock complains.
“You guys buddies now?” Claude asks, gesturing at the women who had, to the best of his and the camp’s knowledge, been sworn, fated, and dramatic foes until two days ago.
“‘Course!” says Shez, slapping her chest with her palm.
-
Claude sends a diplomatic party south with a letter expressing dismay that Edelgard would allow one of her generals to invade and attack her most recent and trusted ally. He details, politely, the damage Fleche had caused (minimal), and the worries sprung anew in his breast (insignificant) that Edelgard was not taking this alliance seriously, that she would condone such a traitorous act (unsurprising), and that recently two Imperial armies had been lost in Federation lands through no fault of Claude’s own and he hopes she remembers this fact (threat).
He has Lorenz read the letter before it goes, testing to see if Lorenz will mention the obvious: if he cannot resist, Edelgard certainly will not. Then Claude asks Judith. Then Holst. Even considering Nader, drumming his fingers against the meeting-hall table while watching Holst read the documents — not that Nader will give a shit, he knows that, but…
He’d asked Marianne to prepare Fleche’s body and armor for transport home; he’d needed it handled by someone he trusts. She’s helping load the wagon when he finds her, rearranging some goods and bullion they’d promised Edelgard weeks ago.
Makes polite small talk. Helps Marianne with the lighter goods. Fleche is being held in a box iced with magic, to preserve her for the journey, and Claude finally comes up with an excuse to see her. A kid, still in pigtails, her hair carefully cleaned and brushed.
After a while, he leaves again.
-
Jeralt had told Byleth to look around camp and get to know their new company, and so she had, taking note of the number of mounted soldiers and Pegasi (lower than typical), mages (average), wyvern (high), and archers (very high). Each lord of the Alliance, great and small, had sent at least a few men. Riegan, Goneril, and Gloucester more. Many were mercenaries, which was typical for the Alliance, who could pay for men more easily than field them. Defenses were adequate, supplies and pay were good.
Jeralt frowns when she reports back. He had meant the other kind of get to know.
Byleth makes another circuit of the camp.
-
Lindhart returns to the camp a few weeks later with a chest full of books and a letter from the Emperor, both of which Claude immediately requisition for himself.
“I thought you weren’t coming back?” Hilda asks, catching Lindhart in the mess a little later. “Wasn’t the whole point of Claude sending you back to the Empire you getting to go home and not keep loitering around camp with us?”
“Why would I want to do that?” Lindhart asks, puzzled, reading one of the books he’d taken before Claude could get his hands on it. “Edelgard would just send me to fight on the front lines. As a prisoner of war, I can sleep all day.”
“Well, now you’re just tempting fate,” His Royal Highness, Claude, Duke of Riegan, first of his fake name, additional titles to be figured out at a later date, says, plopping himself down on the bench opposite Lindhart and Hilda. “Front line medics are in high demand, and I’m quite touched by this display of loyalty to the Federation. What’re you reading?”
“Kings should be open handed and generous with their belongings,” Lindhart says, not looking up from his stolen book.
“Is everything cool with the Empire?” Hilda asks, concerned: she hasn’t heard anything in the hours that Lindhart has been back, and camp gossip has been getting wild lately: half of the army thinks the alliance with the Empire is just a lie to keep them from invading again, and the other half thinks the same thing except for the lie part.
Holst calls it pragmatism: the Federation is still plenty mad at Edelgard for starting the war in the first place, but they’d smacked her on the nose and played the bigger man in offering terms. Baltie says it’s all a trick, and that Claude didn’t wipe out two Imperial armies and generals accidentally. Marianne, meanwhile, thinks it’s all a hopeful sign, recent Fleche debacle aside: peace and alliances are a good thing. Hilda, who once saw Claude enact petty revenge on Lorenz six months after the fact, figures all the gossip is probably true.
“Forgive and forget,” Claude says lightly, taking a bite of a pear. “We don’t mention Edelgard sanctioned an attempt on my most-important life in violation of our treaty, and in return we get to invade the Kingdom.”
“Uh, usually, when you say in return, you get something nice back, not a brand new war.”
“Who says destroying the Central Church isn’t a reward? Certainly not her Imperial Highness.”
-
On Claude’s orders, the army packs up and heads to the North Sea to await some mysterious fleet of ships.
“When I heard beach, I had something else in mind,” Shez grumbles: the shoreline is rocky, beach pebbled, and the ocean itself is reliably freezing. She kicks a couple of rocks to illustrate her point.
“Yeah, this is…” Leonie sighs. Not that she doesn’t have more important things to do than sit on a sunny beach and swim, you understand. Even still. She shivers, as a cold wind picks up.
“I think it’s pretty,” Byleth announces, having previously announced that she prefers her given name to The Ashen Demon, or that girl with no facial expressions; she’s not that bad, I promise. Ever since the women had gone with Jeralt and Alois to Leonie’s village for a couple of days, they’d been thick as thief-hunting mercenaries, and recently Byleth had been experimenting with having and expressing opinions.
“It’s super pretty!” Leonie hastens to reassure her. “In a sort of bleak, end of the world kind of way.” She looks out at the water. She’s never actually seen the ocean before, and it’s a little bit of a let down: you can see land off in the distance, and the waves are small and choppy. She knows they’re in small bay, that this isn’t what the whole ocean looks like. Still.
“I guess we could try to go swimming,” Shez says doubtfully. “It’d probably make for great endurance training.”
“You three crack me up,” Hilda says cheerfully, crunching up to the forlorn with a parasol and beach towel slung over her arm.
“Hildaaaa, we wanna go to the fun ocean!” Shez whines, making grabby hands. “Take us to the fun ocean, please?”
-
Holst announces that it’ll be a week or so before the mysterious secret transport ships arrive to pick them up, and that they’re all officially on light duties until then. They’re kind of in the middle of nowhere, which puts a damper on the free vacation, but Ignatz at least is excited. Once tents are set up and ditches dug, he changes out of his armor and extracts his pencils and sketchbook to do some sketches: he’s always loved the vast, barren landscape of the sea and rocky shore. Like he’s on another world, in a different time.
He takes a leisurely walk through the scrub grass and over boulders the size of castles before he reaches the ocean itself, walking along the shore and looking out at the water. He hears voices: women chatting, and Raphael’s distinctive boom. Sees them a minute later and almost turns back around, blushing, but Hilda spots Ignatz first and summons him over instead.
They’re sunbathing on cloaks and in small-clothes — Leonie in shorts and chemise, Shez in almost nothing, Raphael a gleaming mountain of muscle. Hilda is under a parasol, in a frilly swim-suit, sipping a fruity drink.
That the day is cloudy goes without saying. “It’s not bad,” Leonie says doubtfully. “All these rocks underneath make it kind of like some kind of massage.”
“Next time, we’ll ask Claude to invade somewhere warmer,” Hilda jokes.
Ignatz sketches a posing Hilda, praying Holst won’t happen along them. Byleth is taking a nap. She snores.
-
Bernadetta is located in an old drying shed and brought, protesting, to Claude’s tent. By this point, most of the camp had long since forgotten she was another of the Federation’s prisoners of war, although Marianne chances a wave as Bernadetta and Holst pass.
Claude is much smaller than Holst, which makes him a bit less frightening. But it’s apples and pears. Dragons and wyverns. Death by fire or by drowning. He says hello and Bernadetta squeaks.
“Sure,” he says.
They’ve been camped in and around a fishing village for a week now, and Claude’s tent is twice the size of the others, as befits his status. The inside is bare but for a pile of crates and a bed. Both are piled with books. She spots his relic, Failnaught, leaning against the cot.
“Did you know your father has been named the new Archbishop of the Church?” Claude asks. He passes her a sealed letter and an opened one. She recognizes her father’s handwriting on the first. “Edelgard is asking for your return. I told her she could have Lindhart as well.”
Bernadetta wants to read the letters just as much as she wants to go swimming in the North Sea, fight in another battle, go home, stay here, talk to Claude, or talk to her father. Which is all to say, she doesn’t. Her hands are shaking.
Claude is waiting for her to say something. Anything, really. He has more than half a mind to keep her, if only because bargaining chips seldom come stronger than the Empire’s preferred Archbishop’s daughter. But he’s willing to hear her out. Unlike Linhardt, Bernadetta hasn’t exactly made herself at home in the Federation. If she truly wants to return home… favors owed can be almost as good as prisoners.
She says nothing. Just stares wide-eyed at her feet.
“Okay. Well. You’re welcome to wait out the war in peace,” he says. “I’ve spoken with Margrave Edmund and he will take custody of you —“
There is a knock on the canvas of Claude’s tent. Bernadetta watches him spring up. “Come in!”
It’s Holst. And Shez. “Ships ahoy!” Shez says. Her hair is in a very messy ponytail, and the backs of her arms and neck are red with the imprint of beach rocks.
She walks Bernadetta back to her drying shed. The ships are distant, but visible in the bay, and the camp has sprung into sudden life of packing and shouted commands. The first few smaller boats have landed, bearing banners of green and gold.
“Um,” says Bernadetta. “What banners are those?”
One of Shez’s particular skills is being able to identify any house’s banners at fifty paces. Particularly while drunk and yelling in the mess hall on a leave day. “Almyra’s,” she says.
The banners show a bowman on horseback. A few are crowned. “Oh,” Bernadetta says.
She really doesn’t want to be the first one to say it.
“It is definitely not weird!” Shez says, which isn’t any better.
“N- no! Not at all!”
-
Claude does not eat in the mess that evening. He skips dinner entirely. They’re leaving at first light, the camp a flurry of activity. Judith looks everywhere she can think of; asks Shez; Holst; his friends, but there’s no sign of him.
“Are you searching for something?” The Ashen Demon asks her, as Judith prepares to embark on her third lap around the camp.
“The sorry kid calling himself king around here,” she says.
Byleth points off inland, away from the camp and ships.
“I thought you were looking for a lost item,” she confides as they walk together. Byleth pats a satchel she has slung across her body. “There are many lost items around camp.”
Judith notices her facial expression does not change once as she says this.
“How do you know where the boy went off to?” She asks.
“I saw him leave,” Byleth says. “I asked him if this bracelet was his. Is it yours?”
“Never seen it before in my life.”
After crossing a few fields gone fallow, they enter a small stand of trees. Claude is peppering an aspen with arrows. He sees the women from a long way off and thinks briefly of running.
“Faster ways to chop it down, kid,” Judith says. Claude hadn’t drawn any sort of target on the trunk, nor was he aiming at any spot in particular. She sees a second tree he’d been using as an earlier target. “You’re wasting good arrows.”
Claude’s fingers are stiff and bleeding, his arm aching. His cheek is red and raw.
“Can’t a man sulk in peace?” he asks, going back to his bushel of arrows.
“Care to tell me how you got the Almyran royal fleet to play ferry?”
“Take a guess,” he says, his voice stiff. He shakes out his hand, his smile unmoving.
Byleth peers at the aspen, and he peers at her, and Judith watches him, her mouth tight. She doesn’t approve. She’s mad. What else is new? Who approves of anything he does?
I have so many gods damned secrets, he wants to yell. Sometimes he wants to. Just say them all, let it all go at once. Burn everything down. Ruin his own life. King Claude, what a joke, but worse in Almyra. Everything he does, someone dies, someone looks at him like that, with disappointment, with distrust.
The Ashen Demon turns to look at him, her eyes dark and guileless. “These are some nice shots,” she says.
He laughs.
14 notes · View notes
ambiguouspuzuma · 9 months
Text
The Globster
This story begins in March 1972, on a beach in North America, with seven thousand kilos of unspecified biomass.
It wasn't the first story to start that way. The disposal of carcasses has always been a tricky business, and a succession of protagonists have tried various routes to resolve this conflict in their narrative: towing a corpse back out to sea, hacking it up into moveable parts, burning it - and, in at least one notable case, using excessive amounts of explosives to send it scattered across the nearby town.
In 1972, they turned to gas. The carcass was turning that way itself, digestive gases filling its strange hollows as it decomposed - there are reports of some whales exploding of their own accord - and the local authorities sought only to help it on that path, inflating it like a balloon to make it easier to move. The aim was to tow it inland, where it might be buried with some dignity, and with little of the usual stench - but, as with the explosives, they overdid it by a factor of ten.
And they forgot to attach the tether first.
There is much talk about whalefalls: the great boon of an ocean ecosystem's lower rungs, a smorgasbord of nutrients drifting down through the abyss, supporting thousands of smaller lives with one giant death. A whalerise is much the same. The inflated carcass rose high into the clouds, a bloated, rotting cumulus that formed a floating island on which an osprey might perch, a kittiwake nest, an albatross refuel on their great journey south.
From above, it was an island, an oasis of land amongst the barren sky, a mass of soft grey stone their beaks had whittled into jagged cliffs. From below, it was a UFO - a storm cloud, some supposed, squinting up into the white as its round shadow cast a gloom upon their homes; a foreign Zeppelin, bound on a secret mission; a lost parade float, drifting with the prevailing wind.
If it had been even larger, it might have kept rising, mistaken for a weather balloon, a low-hanging satellite, and even surviving passage through the atmosphere. Perhaps the common stories of space whales had arisen, not from the combined imagination of converging fantasists, but by... well, arising in this way.
But there is an older story - perhaps as old as time, and only republished in 1687. What goes up must come down. A swollen chest is often followed by a fall. Gaseous carcasses should not fly too close to the sun. Decomposition continues, and the blubber wall is ultimately breached, and the whale begins to descend rather more quickly than it rose.
The story begins again in a small Lincolnshire community, who are about to get the shock of their lives.
7 notes · View notes
pwlanier · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Today in Great Lakes shipping history. August 20th.
1899: The HUNTER SAVIDGE (two-mast wooden schooner, 117 feet, 152 gross tons, built in 1879 at Grand Haven, Michigan) capsized in a squall or tornado in Lake Huron. Five survivors, including Capt. Fred Sharpstein, were rescued from the overturned schooner by the steamer ALEX MCVITTIE. However, five lost their lives, including the captain’s wife and son, the ship’s owner’s wife and daughter, and the mate. Capt. Sharpstein patrolled the beaches looking for the bodies of his wife and son for months, but they were never found. The wreck was found in 1987 near Grindstone City, Michigan.
1900: CAPTAIN THOMAS WILSON was launched at Port Huron for the Wilson Transit Co.
1964: TEXACO WARRIOR hit bottom and settled in the Welland Canal with a punctured tank at Thorold South near Bridge 10. The ship was refloated and resumed service. It was scrapped at Sorel, QC, in 1978
1969: INDUSTRIAL TRANSPORT arrived at Toronto, Ontario, with fuel oil on her maiden voyage.
1969: PETER ROBERTSON, sold for scrap and anchored in western Lake Ontario, dragged her anchors in a storm and landed on the beach near Jordan Harbour, Ontario.
1972: VILLE DE QUEBEC was a Seaway trader on the Great Lakes from 1955 to 1958 and returned inland for three trips in 1959. The ship sank off the coast of Albania due to heavy weather on this date as c) SUZY. It was en route from Durres, Albania, to Patras, Greece. 11 members of the crew were lost, and only seven survived.
1985: R. BRUCE ANGUS, in tandem tow with the ULS steamer GORDON C. LEITCH (i) behind the tug IRVING CEDAR, arrived at Setúbal, Portugal, where they were broken up.
1986: WILLIAM CLAY FORD, departed her lay-up berth at the Rouge slip in tow of Gaelic tugs. She was taken to Detroit Marine Terminals on the Rouge River, where her pilothouse was removed to be displayed at the Dossin Great Lakes Museum on Detroit’s Belle Isle.
9 notes · View notes
bumblingbee1 · 6 months
Text
Not that I except it, but it would be awesome if GTA6 gave a shoutout to South Beach Tow
3 notes · View notes
Text
Just thinking of her (Bernice South Beach Tow💗)
5 notes · View notes
Text
I could make bernice from south beach tow so happy
7 notes · View notes
southpacifictravel · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Tow Hill (109 meters) is a prominent volcanic plug between South and North beaches in Naikoon Provincial Park, Haida Gwaii (Queen Charlotte Islands), British Columbia, Canada.
5 notes · View notes
floridafasttowing · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
mysecretattic0 · 9 months
Text
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Oneshots
Daryl Dixon
coming soon.
South Beach Tow
coming soon. published on my ao3 account.
Sevika
coming soon.
Abby Anderson
coming soon.
Bayverse TMNT
coming soon.
Argyle
coming soon.
Suicide Squad
coming soon.
Blade
coming soon.
Khalil Payne
coming soon.
Tumblr media
Short Stories/Poetry
Senseless Souls (Full Version) NSFW (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)
Senseless Souls (Short/Prompt) TW
ME,SHE,WE
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
boatmediatourney · 9 months
Text
🚢Boat Song Bracket🚢
*Rounds will be split into right/left sides of both brackets, running for 24 hours, so it will take 4 days to go through one round (until the end). links for the matches will be updated as the tournament continues*
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Round 1A:
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs The Wild Cape Horn
2. James Craig vs Highwayman
3. 32 Down on the Robert MacKenzie vs Rolling Down to Old Maui
4. Round the Cape vs My Sails are Set
5. Come Sail Away vs Saturday
6. The Marie Christine vs Bluenose
7. Friggin in the Riggin vs Lukey
8. Ship of Fools vs Roll the Old Chariot
9. Orinoco Flow vs Song of the Volga Boatmen
10. Lord Franklin vs Go To Sea No More
11. The Ballad of Harbo and Samuelson vs The Mistress
12. Santiana vs I'm On a Boat
13. Mr Andrews' Vision vs Sailing
14. Proud Mary vs A Sailboat in the Moonlight
15. Hard on the Beach Oar vs The Leaving of Liverpool
16. South Australia vs the Mary Ellen Carter
Round 1B:
The Last Bristolian Pirate vs I'm Shipping up to Boston
2. A Pirate Looks at 40 vs Running Down to Cuba
3. Sailor's Farewell vs Ship in a Bottle
4. Boat on the River vs Song for the Bowdoin
5. Mingulay Boat Song vs Canadee-i-o
6. Ghosts of Cape Horn vs The Mariner's Revenge
7. Son of a Son of a Sailor vs Row, Row, Row Your Boat
8. The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything vs Tow Rope Girls
9. Lowlands Away vs The Good Ship Kangaroo
10. The Bonnie Ship the Diamond vs The Pacific
11. Save the Whales! vs Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her
12. Overture/Prologue/The Launching vs Santiano
13. Race To Be King vs The Ballad of Gilligan's Isle
14. Haul Away Joe vs The Little Boat
15. Warlike Seamen vs Day-O
Round 2A:
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs Highwayman
2. Rolling Down to Old Maui vs Round the Cape
3. Come Sail Away vs Bluenose
4. Lukey vs Roll the Old Chariot
5. Orinoco Flow vs Go to Sea No More
6. The Mistress vs Santiana
7. Sailing vs Proud Mary
8. The Leaving of Liverpool vs The Mary Ellen Carter
Round 2B:
Wellerman vs I'm Shipping up to Boston
2. Running Down to Cuba vs Ship in a Bottle
3. Song for the Bowdoin vs Mingulay Boat Song
4. The Mariner's Revenge vs Son of a Son of a Sailor
5. Tow Rope Girls vs Lowlands Away
6. The Bonnie Ship the Diamond vs Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her
7. Santiano vs the Ballad of Gilligan's Isle
8. Haul Away Joe vs Day-O
Round 3A:
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs Rolling Down to Old Maui
2. Come Sail Away vs Roll the Old Chariot
3. Orinoco Flow vs Santiana
4. Proud Mary vs the Mary Ellen Carter
Round 3B:
Wellerman vs Running Down to Cuba
2. Mingulay Boat Song vs Mariner's Revenge
3. Lowlands Away vs Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her
4. Santiano vs Haul Away Joe
Round 4A:
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs Come Sail Away
Santiana vs The Mary Ellen Carter
Round 4B:
The Wellerman vs The Mariner's Revenge
Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her vs Santiano
Round 5A:
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs The Mary Ellen Carter
Round 5B:
The Mariner's Revenge vs Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her
Final Round:
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald vs Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her
14 notes · View notes