Barry and I rolled into Brooklyn late Friday afternoon in the middle of a major parade, which turned out to be the usual traffic free-for-all. On the way down we somehow managed to surface briefly from our singingsinging (as I drove and Barry navigated) to make crucial exits.

After inspecting my brother's roof for leaks (great view!) and a tour of neighboring townhouses, we settled down to a wonderful smoked chicken dinner. Then we took the F-train over to W. 23rd St. in Manhattan to check out a special event having to do with saving the oceans where some members of the New York Packet were providing appropriate nautical music. We managed to arrive there in time to join them in singing "The Leaving of Liverpool." We had a good time swapping stories about where we learned sea shanties, and who was doing what. The refreshments were good. And there were an incrediable range of questions from folks listening to the singing, who wanted to know more about what planet we all came from. They're all invited to the Chantey Sing at the Seamen's Church this evening.

Riding back to Brooklyn on the subway we began singing Appalachian ballads, and at one point a blues guitarist boarded the train and played a couple of tunes. Barry asked the young woman next to us if that happpened a lot, and she somehow concluded we were from Northern New England and confided that she too was from Maine, and then the fellow across from us chimed in that he was from Maine as well, and before we knew it everyone on the subway car was jumping up and down and clapping each other on the back...What a friendly town!

Peter-

We hope to catch up with Ron this evening at the Chantey Sing. We'll be over at the Radio Mexico (restaurant) around 6:30 pm for din-din. We'll probably be trampin' round the South Street Seaport, in the rain, admiring the Peking and the Wavertree, earlier in the afternoon.

Cheerily,
Charley Noble (Barry's still asleep)