Category Archives: boat

Etymology like a boss

As some of you may have noticed, our boat is named Wake.  Hey, that word means more than one thing at once!  And that’s why we’re here to drink explore its meanings and history, and what the shit that might mean to us.

So, as a verb (that’s the activity kind!), to wake derives from a Middle English fusion of Old English wacan, meaning “to become awake, arise, be born, originate”, and Old English wacian, “to be or remain awake”, both emerging from the proto-Germanic waken, which in turn finds its origins in the proto-Indo-European root *weg-, “to be strong or lively”.  Do you ever just read this crap and wonder how goddamn weird ancient people sounded when they spoke?

the olde warrior
© Bodleian Library, Oxford


So if we’re getting all metaphorical up in here, the boat could represent a kind of awakening which is:

  1. Intellectual
  2. Spiritual
  3. Emotional
  4. Hungover

Fill in the bubble entirely; answers will be graded after class.

Years spent making the calculator spell out BOOBS
So many years spent making the calculator spell out BOOBS


But as a noun, a wake can denote “the track left by a moving ship”, first attested in the 1540s and perhaps taken from Middle Low German or Middle Dutch wake, “a hole in ice”, from proto-Germanic *wakwo.  Is wake then a literal reference to what the boat actually does?  Fuck if we’re going to be sailing through any ice, though.

Please draw a wake here:

Don’t screw this up, it will appear on your transcript


Or a wake may indicate the act of “sitting up at night with a corpse”, which is either really Irish or really hardcore.  This usage dates from the early 15th century, though there’s also an obsolete Scottish rendition, lichwake (why are we no longer using this word?).  It’s not necessarily all bad, though, as it’s meant also to celebrate the memory of what is lost and loved.   Or it’s just spooky, how should I know.

Holy crap, you woke up
Dude, how long have you been awake???


Thus, if we are to persist in our really smart analyses of the word, the boat’s name touches upon the notions of death and mourning in order to remind us of: ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

Please use complete sentences; spelling and grammar errors will be recognized as consequences of the irrevocable transience of humankind.  Essays due at the Apocalypse.

The final judgement
Behold, for the great day of Wrath hast come

Digital voyages for robot buccaneers

An introductory post by Kitty, about who we are and other crap

Welcome to the blog!  This is the first entry, so it’s super high pressure and I gotta make sure this sounds well thought-out and does not exceed a 1:10 proportion of curse words to regular speech.  Sonovabitch, don’t fuck this up Kitty…   Anyhow (as further detailed in that whole section on the menu bar), we’re the crew of a boat christened Wake, a 1991 Amel Super Maramu (an awesome mode of transportation because it’s very photogenic and has a pretty good sound system, and there’s water around it).

wake water edit
It’s a ketch, which is Olde English for “pimpin’ slab”

We consist of:

Davi, my wife of 12 years, our brilliant and beautiful Captain whose roots lie from Libya to Hungary to Australia and Colorado and Italy and now beyond… who can pretty much do anything, I shit you not

Davi got herself a dinghy!


And Cristina, our darling partner, a Moldovan flower with a gift for fabulous photography and professional sunbathing, fluent in six languages and adept at saying adorable, ingenious strokes of lost-in-translation

cristina sun
Even the sun’s like, “damn”


And Kitty (that’s me!), a published author who really doesn’t do anything except write and learn interesting crap so I can get drunk and tell you all about it (I’ll talk philosophy if you’re buying bro)

me rocket
*I’m the one on the right

And of course…

Katinka, the Halloween cat, who is officially our treasure-hunter since she’s quite greedy and steals everything, including wine corks, lard, butter, and Cheetos

Technically the boat counts as her offshore bank account


Rocket, the quartermaster, a real ladies’ man with a tender heart and the courage of a lion, and this weird thing where he sucks on his paw for a half an hour per day

rocket dignity
Dignity.  Always dignity.


And Kirby, who is an asshole.  She’s very pretty and she knows it, was once on Italian national television, and tried to kill a pigeon in front of small children

Kirbs don’t give a shit about shit

So that’s us!  I hope y’all like the blog, because it’s a bitch to format.  Also check the YouTube channel, find us on the Facebook, look at our pretty stuff on Instagram, and send us good vibes so we don’t die!

Three cats, three queers, endless love in an endless world