like bubblegum. And the transition from the previous three posts to this one is abrupt: battleship gray to petunia pink. Like cement to hybiscus . .. or (later). Now pink’s not a color you’d imagine to find on this blog. But why not? It’s a beautiful color. Of course, when I commented on my Colorado sister’s wearing a pink helmet as she rappelled down a cliff, she stopped: “It’s faded red,” she announced, fighting gravity until I relented, abandoned using the P word.
Anyhow, a lot of ships seem to use this bubblegum-color faded red bottom paint, not
that you’d know it from their names. Golden Charlotte? The only gold here might be around some parts of crew anatomy. Call her Pinkblue Charlotte? I love the oxidized anti-fouling painting on this tanker above carrying a deckload of limestone skyline and wearing Robbins Light as stern illumination.
Golden Venus . . . have to be careful here. Would I even want my Venus to be gold? Wasn’t that a large part of Midas’ malaise?
No, I’ve no idea if Caribbean has any pink parts (like ex-Thornton Bros’ engine block?) , nor do I know if the surface under the
sand does. But, beyond the tow, it’s FR8 Pride, with that same hue of bottom paint: pink! Something’s going on here.
King David of Scorship . . . looks more pink than red to me . . . no matter what my sister wants to call her helmet.
All fotos, Will Van Dorp.
And back to the transition similes: gray to pink . .. like flying through a fog only to be engulfed by a massive venus flytrap, overcast light on still water supporting a lotus bloom, graysilver wrap around some wild carnations, alpine blossoms eking out an existence among rock, or seeking shelter from a torrent on Lexington Avenue in Bloomingdale’s lingerie department . . . (Did I write that on THIS blog? Can I do that? Does my editor allow this?)