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Outa Date, Dragon. Various compounds containing Pyrogallic Acid convert rust .....Ferrous Oxide .... into Stannous Oxide .... in effect, tin-plating the rusted metal into a stable base for priming with coal tar epoxy or somesuch and painting.

That's good to know. In the past I've tried a lot of things, and gave up on Ospho other than to give the bad coffee a little kick, you know?

Now for the duct tape. Us modern young fellows prefer speedy ties in their infinite variety.

Zip ties are good. But a big one around the mast is likely not all that great...can trap water in similar ways, but a semi-loose final binding could help make that less of a problem...maybe.

Once one has a trunk of wires, then the next ones go where? Oh, right, zip tied to the trunk.

Duct tape should be on every commercial fishing vessel, though. It is the only known cure for the inevitable psychotic episodes among the crew.

Never heard of that use, but I'll keep it in mind.

Some crews should pack their own, just in case the skipper wigs (ok, some of them are always wigging, so it can be hard to tell, so there is that problem...)

Back when we could get the good stuff (good duct tape, that is) among other things I'd use strips about 1/3 of a roll wide instead of a band-aid. Sometimes also I'd tape up my finger joints before doing a lot of net work, specially if it involved light nylon twines, like say, 21 thread or under. Pulling and tugging on the small strings all day long could eventually cut into skin.

On another note, not "psychotic episode" but the "just never learned how to roll out of the rack and have one's feet land in the boots when it's time to pick up (the trawl)" problem --- I had a guy tell me once that tying a moderately long buoy line (small stuff like 1/2, or 9/16 poly) to a five gallon bucket, the other end to a guy's sleeping bag -- then dropping the bucket off the stern, is one way to cure the lack of ability for having one's feet land in the boots near instantaneously...though I admit to more than once engaging the winches while wearing nothing but my skivvies and deck slippers, and that's without ever having found myself unceremoniously (and rather mechanically) dragged out of the rack, just to watch my blankie go bye-bye.

Over the long years I fished on bottomfish trawlers, I became well enough acquainted with the "run out there in one's boxer shorts" when the gear hangs up routine, I'd grab my smokes on the way out.

Skipper comes out...sees me in my underwear, asks me (as I'm spooling cable) "what are you doing?" I tell him "I'm smoking a cigarette, wtf do you think I'm doing?"

On another note, not "psychotic episode" but the "just never learned how to roll out of the rack and have one's feet land in the boots when it's time to pick up (the trawl)" problem

Never landed in my boots, but I remember going to extensive lengths to duct tape my raingear around them to try to keep the freezing water out.

We had a processing plant onboard so we could catch the crab, butcher it, cook it, brine it, pack it, and store it boxed and ready to go. None of this namby pamby catch it and simply toss it into the hold. We'd have to work around two large tanks of boiling water and about six freezing brine tanks....with 400lb cages of crab on winches swaying to and fro.

Inevitably, the first thing that would happen prior to pulling an 18 hour shift would be to step out into the processing plant area and have your boots immediately fill up with ice cold salt water. It would make those 18 hours seem infinitely longer.