Gob Hunting

Everybody loves a man in uniform

by Tony Giampetruzzi

Among the throngs of eager suburban housewives, sailing enthusiasts, irritating tourists, and pissed off Portlanders navigating through the craziness that was OpSail 2000 last weekend, yet a fifth group had its own take on the madness.

"Yea, it's pretty obvious that a lot of these sailors have been eating their spinach," said Dan, a gay man from Vermont who, accompanied by his boyfriend, made a detour in Portland on his way to Bar Harbor last weekend. "There's something about sailors. You know, the classical gay ideal, and, well, international ones . . . we really didn't want to miss this."

Dan wasn't alone. All over the city, gay men frothed as seamen from Argentina and beyond flooded the Old Port last week. They came from Brazil, Norway, and our very own United States - and, thought many hopeful and horny young guys, they've been stuck on those boats for sooo long.

But were any of those sailors on hand at the Underground or Somewhere for yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum? Apparently all hands were on deck somewhere else says Derek, a gay man living in Portland. "I have to admit, I went to the Underground on Saturday 'cause I figured if they were gonna be anywhere it would be there. As usual, the place was dead and there was no sign of any sailors."

Jim Neal, owner of the gay gift shop Drop Me A Line, said that he was pleased when a couple Argentinean mariners stopped in a for a peek around. "I think they were intimidated," said Neal with a snicker.

It would seem that only Portland's fairer sex made headway with the hundreds of jack-tars. Speaking in broken English (or maybe it was the language of love) one foreign sailor angered dozens of anxious tourists waiting in line to get on the ship from Argentina on Saturday. He was speaking to a wide-eyed twentysomething who had cut the line when she spotted him. Within seconds they were hugging as though they had known each other for at least 12 hours.

After a few minutes of cooing and catching up, the sailor motioned to three of the woman's closest friends, all of whom were at the back of the line. To the audible groans of those in line, the four women giddily broke from the rest of the crowd, jumped the line, joined the sailor, and hit the deck.