It looks like I'm one of the first ones back home, since we are in the general vicinity of the Bunker Estates.

Due to a sick dog and a line of "severe" thunderstorms passing over the Maine Coast about 4:00 PM, I arrived around 5:45 while the barbeque was still going strong in the driveway and the singing was underway inside the barn / workshop.

It was good to see old comrades and Mudcatters again, and meet a few new ones. Gosh; it's been a while, hasn't it?

When I ambled in, Charlie was picking his banjo to "Shanghai Brown", with Nor working the washtub bass, and all seemed pretty well with the World again.

There seemed to be a pretty good showing from the Concertina section, with "Jets" and Crumudgeon sharing some great squeezebox tunes, and even Charlie Noble had one going for a while there - but quit way too soon in my opinion, as it was sounding pretty good! I had brought mine along but never unlimbered it, having a looooong way to go towards attaining any particular semblance of proficiency with it.

Music was interspersed with poems and stories, most of which I found quite interesting. Of course Cpt. Bunker, with a lifetime of colorful and varied adventures, not to mention the plethora of facinating people he has known and worked with, can keep an audience spellbound for hours. He told the tale of "Denmark (I think-?-) Andy", a life-long Seaman who had served primarily on Tugboats.

"Andy" had massive hands and "fingers like marlinspikes" and could handle rope and line with an almost magical capacity for splicing, tying and untying any sort of knot.
While at sea, Andy needed something to do to keep his nimble fingers occupied, so would make up little gumball-sized "Rose Knots" I think he called them. I first thought that they were "Monkey's Fists", since they are essentially a ball of interwoven twine on a loop - but Cpt. B. explained the subtle difference between the objects, and I learned something new - as one usually does if spending any time around the good Cpt..

   After explaining and demonstrating "Andy's" handiwork, Steve handed around a little tin box full of them and we all got to pick one as a souvenier of the Evening, as well as a reminder of old "Andy" the Tugboatman.

   Setting aside his Concertina for a spell, "Jets" shared some intriguing insights as to his experiences in the Merchant Marine on board a Liberty Ship in WW-II, as well as his "coming ashore" and the lingering call of the Sea that he felt for years afterwards, as many a Sailor had warned him that it would.

As the evening progressed the music sort of gave way to storytelling, and I felt enriched just to be in the circle and vicariously absorbing it all.

We had about enough people to fill up the barn pretty well, (I'd guess-timate that we had about as much space as we did in the Munjoy Hill Observatory) but among those missed were certainly Brian, Barry, and Brett... it must have been fate that it was the Chanty sing for the "B's" to "B-gone"!

Jeri didn't recognise me at first, because I had been asked by both Aunt Mahthah and our lovely and talented Daughter Shearon to "lose" the moustache for Shearon's Wedding last month and convert to a "Fisherman's" style beard instead.
After I donned my signature head-rag (a "Cravat", actually) the recognition factor improved somewhat.

During a lul in the singing, a couple of muffled "booms" were heard outside; Cpt. B. fired off a couple of black-powder salutes with his muzzle-loading "musketoon" - a sawed-off Brown Bess Revolutionalry War era flintlock musket. Imagine a "blunderbuss" without the flared muzzle, and that's pretty much it.

So a good time was had by all, as near as this humble participant could tell - and I'm sure that most if not all hope for at least one more of these shindigs before Winter sets back in.