 What was Winkelmann's greatest insult to Bailey?
Should any groundsman dispute the importance of belly-furniture in history—whether it be exterminating whales, or introducing syphilis to the Fiji Islanders, or settling the Australian littoral with cross-coves from Middlesex and Hampshire—he is referred to the hundred-and-first chapter of Moby Dick , a book spooled in the amusement tanks of all but the smallest spacers. The Japanese vessel staggered to her pad at Piano West after a twenty-week drunk: the alien yeast had got into the stomach of every man aboard, where it fermented each subsequent bite he ate to a superior grade of sake . Twelve tons of water, oxygen, and food would have filled the cargo compartments to bursting, and left a small ship like the C. P. Sale no reason to reach for Mars. By allowing a colony of Chlorella algae to work over our used air, water and other effluvia, though, three tons of metabolites would see us through from Brady Station to Piano West and back. This trip, the-man-you-love-to-hate was our Captain. If the Prussians had a Marine Corps, Winkelmann would have done splendidly as Drill Instructor for their boot camp. The planet Earth was hardly large enough to accommodate a wart as annoying as Willy Winkelmann. It was Winkelmann who saw humorous possibilities in the entry, "Bailey, Robert," on Ship's Articles. And it was Captain Willy Winkelmann who never referred to the ship's head by any other name than The Kitchen Cabinet.
 Slathering ketchup on Bailey's most proud concoction
 Slathering ketchup on Bailey's most proud concoction  Reducing his compensation  Refusing to eat the steaks that Bailey innovated  Remarking that the food in which he invested the least effort in making was the most delicious