The Burt Kristbaum Adventures

2005-09-29T23:02:00.000-07:00

Table of Contents

2005-09-29T22:39:00.000-07:00

To Archaeology Division Employees:

Welcome new employees! Recently acquired with a generous grant from the president and founder of Phipps Inc., Reginald A. Phipps, the Archaeology Division seeks to uncover those clues which will lead us closer to an answer about our history, and to a further extent, ourselves. In the following pages, you will be given an in-depth look at several approaches to beginning exploration. The author will discuss basic foundation skills, how to plan an excavation, dowsing, and patience. Please mark down those topics which appeal to your sensibilities.

In accordance with Paleontologists of America and The Archaeological Institute courses on the topics which you have requested will be implemented in the next several weeks. Please be patient with the Board as this development ensues. This is a new process for all of us. It has been quite some time since Phipps Inc. has constructed a new division. Let alone one which is somewhat contrary to Phipps Inc. protocol. The past is certainly unchartered territory for many of us here. With patience and perseverance, it is my hope the ideas expressed in this manual will carry this fine company into the next millennium.

For those of you reading the manual for sheer pleasure, please turn to the table of contents, and follow the entries in italics and you will find an almost entirely nonscientific biography of the author: his life aboard the Albatross, personal reminisces about Burt Kristbaum, and his exciting trek through Paharpur.

I hope these pages inspire your adventures.

Sincerely,

Fifth Wheel
Future Division Supervisor
Phipps Incorporated

1. Goodbye's

2005-05-25T09:41:00.000-07:00

It felt good to be on an adventure. I got this special coat, some boots, and my own typewriter. I was supposed to write down everything I saw. FW thought it would be good for the next book: The Burt Kristbaum Adventures: A manual for the beginning explorer. I agreed with him. I told him I would take lots of notes.

“Good,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

We were at the harbor. A bunch of interns were packing the ship with supplies: goatskin water bottles, seal fat, and compasses. All the necessities for an adventure. At least that’s what they said.

“All the necessities for an adventure,” they said.

I nodded. I didn’t want to look confused. I don’t think it worked. Someone asked if I was okay.

“You okay?” they asked.

I told them I was.

“You sure?” they asked again.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Well, you don’t look it.”

I turned around. It was him. I couldn’t believe it. He had his top hat, the combat boots, everything. He looked just like the cover for Arctic Explorer. Issue #407.

I didn’t know what to say. I was pretty embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” he said, with a smile. “You were born for this.”

That made me feel better. There were lots of people at Phipps Inc. who thought I wasn’t. They didn’t think it was safe. They said I would get killed by angry villagers, or wander into a tiger trap before I even got to write a single line of the manual.

“Oh, don’t believe that,” he said, and smiled again.

I tried to smile back. I don’t think it had the same affect. When he smiled, it made everyone around him excited. You could feel what was behind it: Arctic winters, dangerous glaciers, charging elephants, you name it. When I smiled, it was different. I know. I tried it in the mirror. Nothing happened.

“You ready for an adventure?” he asked me.

I told him I was.

“Good,” he said. “Then we should be off.”

He tipped his top hat to FW and walked towards a couple interns. They were carrying a vat of seal fat. It looked heavy. He just leaned down, and pulled it up on his shoulders. Man, he was strong. FW agreed. He said I was in good hands.

“You’re in good hands,” he said.

I agreed.

“Well,” he said.

It was sad to say goodbye. He had been a real good guy. He taught me a lot, you know? I told him so too. Then I gave him a big hug. I think he really needed it. He held me for a long time. I didn’t mind though. Some people don’t get enough hugs. I know. Nataraja and I talked about it. He said people needed at least 11 hugs a day. If they didn’t, there was something wrong.

“If they don’t, there’s something wrong,” he said.

I understood what he meant. Lately, Mary didn’t want to touch me. She said it made her sick. I didn’t get upset though. I knew she was just upset, because I was going on an adventure and might get killed by charging elephants or angry villagers.

I tried to reassure her. I told her how explorers had to take risks, that it was all in the name of science, but she didn’t want to hear it. She was too upset.

“I’m too upset,” she said.

I gave her a hug. I think it made her feel better. She kissed me a little. Then she did something else. It was nice. I thought she’d come say goodbye after that, but she didn’t. She wrote me a letter instead. She said it said everything she had to say.

“Read it when you start missing me,” she said.

I read it as soon as I got on the ship. I missed her already.

Letter 3245.63
Re: Exploration

If you die, I’ll kill you.

Love,

2. The Albatross

2005-05-25T09:38:00.000-07:00

Burt Kristbaum designed the Albatross himself. It was a much better ship than The Pelican, or The Harold. It was built to withstand the inclement weather conditions, which had destroyed the other ships. There were seventeen thick bolts lining the bottom of her hull, an extra layer of polyurethane, and a series of F-423 torpedoes installed for special circumstances.

The upper deck was composed of several viewing rooms. One for the captain’s chambers and another for the bridge. Both had wall to wall carpeting, microwaves, and the latest in navigational technology. Probably the most impressive was a recently installed Tube Screamer C-4126 and a Flu Hickey; Phipps Inc. inventions, that when used in unison, could pinpoint the Albatross’s location with 99.998% accuracy. The other devices were industry standards for any sea-bound vessel: a Mach 24 Wind Propeller, 16 Heliotropes, and an automatic steering wheel, with ABS capability.

In accordance with the new policy passed by Explorers of America, a subsidiary of the POA, a reading room had been installed to prevent the usual psychotic episodes of claustrophobia some interns had experienced on past adventures. Other amenities, available on The Pelican and The Harold, Mr. Kristbaum’s previous vessels, were also installed on The Albatross. These included three cafeterias, a decontamination chamber, and a stockade of oranges and limes to avoid scurvy and other gastrointestinal complications.

In order to maintain a vessel of this magnitude, a selected group of Kromagnums were commissioned, expressly for the journey. Known for their unusual vegan lifestyle (mostly carrots), these capable seamen were indispensable, according to Burt Kristbaum. They understood the necessity to follow orders, maintain a clean wreck room, and rarely divested the crew of its fresh meat supply – all the qualities an experienced explorer hoped for in his crew.

Max Flicker, Mr. Kristbaum’s engineer, on past expeditions to the Congo and Northern El Salvador, was to oversee this group of ragtag individuals. He was the direct line of communication between the Command Center and Engineering. His duties included: maintenance of the SKY-Lab; various X-Ray and sonar devices, and the safekeeping of all collected antiquities.

I was hired as Archeological Consultant. It was my job to make sketches of all artifacts, and provide dowsing information on all digs. If there was a debate as to where a site should be, or in what direction we would travel, it was up to me to lead the crew.

Klaus was the Morale Supervisor. It was his job to make sure everyone felt good. If someone looked a little seasick, or needed an extra pat on the back, he would tell them about the little things that made life worth living: mimosas, a pretty girlfriend, you name it. This usually worked with most of the crew. There were a couple of people who needed extra attention though. They were interns straight out of the Archeological Institute. They hadn’t lived the tough one. They didn’t even know there was such a thing. They were always complaining and lowering morale.

His approach was different with them. He usually gave them ice cream. It seemed to make them feel better. If that didn’t work, he would hold up a life vest. That usually did the trick.

We weren’t half a league into our journey, before Klaus sent someone overboard. Her name was Francois. She was this really annoying girl in Navigation. I think she had done most of her training on land. She kept vomiting on her control panel. She wasn’t fit for sea travel. Klaus didn’t think twice about the situation. He told her to get her things and leave quietly.

“Get your things and leave quietly,” he said.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

Klaus kept his cool. He told her the success of the expedition was impingement upon preparation. A good explorer rarely allowed weaknesses to be tolerated. This could lead to errors and eventual setbacks. In an archeological expedition, prevention was the name of the game, and at the moment, her weak stomach was placing that priority in jeopardy.

“Just think of the ramifications,” Klaus said. “If I let everyone who had a weak stomach parade around the brig? We could be on the verge of the greatest discovery in archaeology, and for what? So you can place that in jeopardy? No, Miss Vaughan, we aboard the Albatross believe in prevention and stand by it.”

I could see where Klaus was coming from. Just yesterday, I was about to put a protein shake on my desk, when I realized it might spill on my papers. That’s when I moved it to a cup holder instead. If I didn’t think about prevention, I would have lost all my notes. Prevention was a real life saver.

“That’s right,” Klaus agreed. “It’s the name of the game.”

“But I don’t understand,” Francois said again.

Klaus held up a life vest.