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An Agony in Eight Ffits: Join the motley crew attempting to find the elusive Cache. Expect to walk at least a mile finding clues to its whereabouts. Free mooring at the published coordinates. Take pencil and paper for notes. To reinsert each Ffit in its micro, roll up tightly.
Ffit the First: The Landing
"JUST the place for a Cache!" the Brambler cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each one on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.
"Just the place for a Cache! I have said it twice:
That alone should wake Cryptik Souls Crew.
Just the place for a Cache! I have said it thrice:
What I tell you three times is true."
The crew was complete: it included Paul Blitz-
Dogastus and Daisy and Me-
With Subarite, Slugalot, SK and Ffits-
Mr Dewdrop besides d&c.
The Phillimore Clan, whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps have won more than their share-
But Kew Finder, engaged at enormous expense,
Had the whole of the cache in her care.
There was also FewKinder, who paced on the deck,
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Brambler said) saved them from wreck
Though none of the sailors knew how.
There was one who was famed for the number of things
He forgot when he entered the ship:
His GPS, his watch, all his TBs and rings,
And the clothes he had bought for the trip.
The last of the crew had a virulent rash,
And she looked an incredible dunce:
She had just one idea--but, that one being "Cache,"
The good Brambler engaged her at once.
She came as a Birder: but gravely declared,
When the ship had been sailing a week,
She knew nothing of seagulls. The Brambler looked scared,
And was almost too frightened to speak.
Ffit the Second: The Brambler's Speech
THE Brambler himself they all praised to the skies-
Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
The moment one looked in his face!
He had bought a large map representing the sea,
Without the least vestige of land:
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
A map they could all understand.
"What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
Tropics, Zones, and those Lassitude Lines?"
So the Brambler would cry: and the crew would reply
"They are merely conventional signs!
"Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
But we've Eckington himself to thank:
(So the crew would protest) "that he's bought us the best--
A perfect and absolute blank!"
This was charming, no doubt; but they shortly found out
That Eckington, helmsman and mate,
Had only one notion for crossing the ocean:
GPS! Yes, his Garmin was great!
But the danger was past--they had landed at last,
With their waypoints, wives, children and dogs:
Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view,
Which consisted to heathlands and bogs.
The Brambler perceived that their spirits were low,
And repeated in musical tone
Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe--
But the crew would do nothing but groan.
He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
And bade them sit down within reach:
And they could not but own that their helmsman looked grand,
As he stood and delivered his speech.
"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Cache, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!
"Come, listen, my friends, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable signs
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The geocache named in these lines.
"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o-the-wisp.
"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
And dines on the following day.
"The third is its fondness for TBs, I'd say,
Should you happen to have one then please,
Leave it here and in time it will move on its way,
(as it does with the greatest of ease).
"The fourth is its gratitude which, by my fix,
Is at fifty one complete degrees.
Add in twenty one minutes point eight sixty six,
And see if your sextant agrees.
"The fifth is its longitude. 'Westing', some say
(a degree may be needed for this)
Eighteen minutes point nine seven five is OK
In fact, its spot on, you won't miss.
"For, although common Caches do no manner of harm,
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
Some by Tumnus..." The Brambler broke off in alarm,
For Dogastus had fainted away.
[Note that some positions are absolute (sometimes only the last few digits given), but others are given relative to the previous one. Descriptions are accurate, but some coordinates may not be (very poor signal - sorry). One micro is quite high - a child couldn't reach it.
1 nautical mile = 1 minute of Northing but not 1 minute of Westing.
1 knot = 1 nautical mile per hour]