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 The commander......aloft.
…But Tonto he was smarter, and one day said “Kimo Sabe. Kiss my ass I’ve bought a boat…..I’m going out to sea”
-Lyle Lovett, If I had a Boat
I hadn't seen the commander in a few days. Last weekend he was off to Kemah to go work on Ciclon. I called him on Friday, and he was just getting to Houston. Said that he had earned a few mitigation credits because he is going to take the family to Disney World in a couple of weeks. I told him that he could always incorporate “other things” in that agenda, like check out slips and mooring on the Florida Coast...a little side diversidado while he’s there.
It seems like the roof on his house needed some work recently, so he had to go out and find somebody to do the repair. As the commander says “Hey man, have you ever seen one of those things before? They’re way too dangerous to get up on. Why a man could slip up there and slide right off….there’s just no sense in that either.”
As I have said before, the commander is a wise man and makes good judgment calls. He told me that he hires jobs like that out. “Best money I’ve ever spent” he says each time.
The commander had a genuine look of concern on his face as he continued; “Besides, doing work around the house cuts into valuable time spent at the boat.”
I had received an email from him earlier in the week and among other things it said: "While in Kemah, because we cannot help ourselves, we went to look at boats. One of the brokers at WaterGate was having an open house, live band, new and brokerage boats. They were having a silent auction on a Endeavor 43 and my Dad ask 'should we make a bid?'"
All I want to do any more is sail.
Find a way to finance my habit. From the minute that I sweat the first piece of canvas, till the boat is washed and the sails bagged, I am drawn to explore distant tropical islands and seas, maybe find a homeport far from the chaos that is rapidly spinning out of control before us.
I'll admit it. I cannot help myself either.
I spend countless hours in nautical catalogs, and have pushed Google pretty much to the outer limits pursuing infinite links to sailing sites. I am forever possessed by the latest mutation of Big Boat Fever....
Meanwhile...I am outfitting Olivia in spartan, utilitarian splendor, provisioning her for the series of passages to the hinter world of the sailing promised land.
I know the reality. Sailing is mostly work, hard work, with contrary winds, currents and seas. Yep the wind seems to always be in your face, and it's either too much or too little.
It is living in shoebox sized spaces often wet, tired and dirty. It is worry about your anchor holding in some ugly, rough bay, or the possibility that the dreaded H word will mess up your day.
It is also magical work, transported by the wind to destinations that otherwise normal people, in all reality, will never see.
My friends Jim and Janice, from Island Time returned from Rio Dulce Guatemala to what Jim calls his “sentence”. I saw them yesterday when I went over to Anchor Marina to visit Jean.
I swear, Jim looks 10 years younger as he talked about being down south…talks about conch and lobster gumbo, endless islands to explore…. Yep, Jim is doing his sentence, gamely marking the days before his return in September.
I have great respect for all who have jumped off and are out there. It is the template to our own departure.
Jim says that they don't subtract the days you sail from your existence.
This might be true. Better yet, I think that one day on the sea, under canvas equals twenty two point five days ashore, doing things you don't want to.
I discussed this with the commander yesterday as we sat aboard Renaissance sipping Tullamore Dew and watching the incessant rain fall.
"You know.....Ponce de Leon had it all wrong David...the fountain of youth wasn't in Florida, or anywhere else on the land for that matter. It was in his boat all along.
I thought about Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and her instructions to recall: "There's no place like home...."
I will surrender to the sailing kabala, and consider all who don't understand, outsiders.
Don't look for me to be much of a party conversationalist if you want to talk about cars, or jobs or varieties of roses, or mulch, or weed eaters, or sprinkler systems. I'll probably be over in the corner dozing off.
But if you want to talk about Raritan heads, Norseman fittings and Micron 33, things like that, you just might get a response.....
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