I do not usually generate posts in such rapid succession but my powers are under a cloud. The healthful spring air of California is full of natural microscopic wonders that spread new life from plant to plant, forest, field and farm, and make a bubble boy of me. So I am indoors, trying to correct errors in my previous post --which was overlong, haphazard and maybe had a baboon in it, or something with too many o's and b's, like bassoon or oboe--so I finally just added "Giant Atomic..." to the title, as one does in such a fix. This left the balance of the afternoon free to discuss maritime history, which --in the tradition of the genre-- one makes up as one goes along.
[file released into public domain by author]
Over this paragraph is a photo of the cruise ship, Illegible. It is typical of modern cruise ships --real long, about a quarter mile, and a gas guzzler, almost as bad as some American SUVs. At top cruising speed, about 25 miles per hour, Illegible gets maybe 10, 20 feet per gallon of gas. That's on flat surfaces. She does a lot better downhill but uphill only around 2 or 3 inches per gallon. This is why you don't see many cruise ships traveling in the mountains. Good thing too.
There is promise for improvement. I direct your attention to the vessel along the port ("port" being a nautical term invented by a vintner) side of the ship. Not the big clotty-looking thing, which is part of New York Harbor that got snagged on Illegible's way out, but the bright streaky bit. That is a special laundry boat on its way to pick up wet sheets. Because its designer, Sir Ralph Woof, insisted all his inventions be pronounceable to his beloved pet dogs, this specialized craft is called a Barque. Here is an illustration of a barque drying bed sheets on its many clothes lines: