On a dark and stormy night I heard the cry, no more like a weeping sound of Staff Commodore Doug McPherson He’s a good Sea Captain that I’ve known for years. ‘Neptune.. Neptune” he said in a tone of a worried man. His voice shaky from the lagging effects strong spirits and a throat raspy from years of argue and tobacco. Knowing McPherson as a man of care for his fellow shipmates and mariners I rose up and in his sleep asked of his fears and worries. He answered sharply ‘they know not, they know not, the fleet the fleet it has the DU–JU curse for sure.

I rose up with eyes full of fire and hands ready to make the seas boil in all torment. With the creatures of the sea sharing my beard and hair as their lair, I hefted my trident to sink his soul to the deep. Then with courage not seen since Ahab and the beast, McPherson too rose to full height and took a stance to defend the SYC fleet.
Neptune he roared back, with eyes now steady and hand sure, I’m not here to fight you but if fight you I must I will. I’ll defend the fleet if you won’t give me your grace to inform the unknowing who have wronged their craft and ship.

What, I asked in a still cold tone, what is wrong with your fleet? He replies the fleet has taken on a favor of bad the “JU-JU”. It’s come to the boats of new owners who, with no disrespect, have given their vessels new names without first having cleared their lot with you.

Now I understood! McPherson, put on by his Canadian thinking was asking me to help keep the fleet safe from the Gods of the 4 winds.  I said, let’s have a drink and think it through and we did.

So it was decided that I was to come from my sea through the Bay and the brackish straight of Carquinez to the fresh water of the river and join him on the hard. We to have a ceremony of denaming and naming the vessels in err. A pact was made and sealed with rum.  The deed was up and it would be done.

He chose the day and gathered all the captains and crews at the docks of SYC. Many leagues up the river from my home. It was a cold and gray day perfect for me. He had beer a plenty and champagne to share from the larders of the crafts. To be drunk and to give and tribute to the poor craft and Gods of the four corners, East, West, South and the cold cold hearted North wind as well.

I must have been a sight of fright as the river water dried my saltless skin to flaking green scale and washed my hair to a copper-green patina of putrid luster. None the less a pact was made and we set upon the vessels to make them clear. I expunged the records of their life and cleaned the boards with fire and ice. We drank to the Gods we drank to the boats we drank to the crews with many toasts. The Four Corners of hellfire washed clean and room was made for new names and new crew on logs and aft.

It did my beat-less heart warm to hear the cheers “Hip-Hip-Hooray” for these boats good fortune for all their years. 
McPherson, A good man he is!

Neptune.