In that most
excellent book, The Log from the Sea
of Cortez, Steinbeck says:
“We come now
to a piece of equipment which still brings anger to our hearts and, we hope,
some venom to our pen.
“We shall
call this contraption, for the sake of secrecy, a Hansen Sea-Cow—a dazzling
little piece of machinery, all aluminum paint and touched here and there with
spots of red. The Sea-Cow was built to sell, to dazzle the eyes, to splutter
its way into the unwary heart.
“In the
Sea-Cow factory where steel fingers tighten screws, bend and mold, measure and
divide, some curious mathematick has occurred. And that secret so long sought
has accidentally been found. Life has been created. The machine is at last
stirred, A soul and a malignant mind have been born. Our Hansen Sea-Cow was not
only a living thing, but a mean, irritable, contemptible, vengeful,
mischievous, hateful, living thing.
“We observed
the following traits in it and we were able to check them again and again:
“1.
Incredibly lazy, the Sea-Cow loved to ride on the back of a boat, trailing its
propeller daintily in the water while we rowed.
“2. It
required the same amount of gasoline whether it ran or not, apparently being
able to absorb this fluid through its body walls without recourse to explosion.
It had always to be filled at the beginning of every trip.
“3. It had
apparently some clairvoyant powers, and was able to read our minds,
particularly when they were inflamed with emotion. Thus, on every occasion when
we were driven to the point of destroying it, it started and ran with a great
noise and excitement. This served the double purpose of saving its life and of
resurrecting in our minds a false confidence in it.
“4. It had
many cleavage points, and when attacked with a screwdriver, fell apart in
simulated death, a trait it had in common with opossums, armadillos, and
several members of the sloth family, which also fall apart in a simulated death
when attacked with a screwdriver.
“5. It hated
Tex, sensing perhaps that his knowledge of mechanics was capable of diagnosing
its shortcomings.
“6. It
completely refused to run: (a) when the waves were high, (b) when the wind
blew, (c) at night, (d) in rain, dew, or fog, (e) when the distance to be
covered was more than two hundred yards. But on warm sunny days, when the
weather was calm and the white beach was close by—in a word, on days when it
would have been a pleasure to row—the Sea-Cow started at a touch and would not
stop.
“7. It loved
no one, trusted no one. It had no friends.
“Perhaps
toward the end, our observations were a little warped by emotion. Time and
again as it sat on the stern with its pretty little propeller lying idly in the
water, it was very close to death. And in the end, even we were infected with
its malignancy and its dishonesty. We
should have destroyed it, but we did not. Arriving home, we gave it a new coat
of aluminum paint, spotted it at points with new red enamel, and sold it. And
we might have rid the world of this mechanical cancer!”
Today’s Thought
It is questionable if all the mechanical
inventions yet made have lightened the day’s toil of any human being.— J. S. Mill, Principles of Political Economy.
Tailpiece
“Sara says
she ran into you for a second time at the vegetarian club.”“That’s a lie. I’d never met herbivore.”
(Drop by
every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
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