Log Entry

Date: August 07, 2007 / Depart: 1700 Sea Ranch Marina / Destination: Open Gulf of Mexico / Arrive: 2000 Sea Ranch Marina / Wind: S 08-12 / Temp: 86 deg F. / Sky: Blue / Water: Stained Blue / Seas: 1-2’ /Tide: -1.2’, rising

I can’t remember a more perfect sail or a more perfect day to sail.

In a blaze of dust, screeching to a stop I pulled up to the parking spot by ‘Div and the commander was already aboard. I had rigged up, choosing the 110 Genny, and baby sail, stowed all of the dockside accoutrements, neatly coiled the fat yellow shore power cord on the dock and fired up the Westerbeke.

Sliding out in reverse into a brilliantly blue, perfectly breezy day we chugged out of the tiny harbor, past Double Sunshine and a big Bertram inbound, both stirring up mud from the channel, tide achingly low, a trimaran beached by the outgoing tide on the oyster flat adjacent to the County campground.

We motored lazily along, and once to Brazos Santiago Pass, hoisted up all of the canvas in Barracuda Bay, tacking and assuming a perfect outbound cruise to the open Gulf on a mid channel course. Near the outlet, the mixmaster, a shrimper named El Sueño (“The Dream”) passed outbound, outriggers down, heading east out to the fishing grounds.

The late afternoon sun was still high and hot as we cracked open an ice cold, tasty beverage, and the talked turned as it usually does to a myriad of subjects, mostly relating back to sailing and life. It was one of those perfect, rare afternoons as we sailed ever eastward on a broad reach, gentle seas, light breezes, quiet and calm in a way the sea rarely is. We scrambled to find shade beneath the shadow of the sails.

With proper provisions, it would have been easy to just continue east out into the open Gulf, just keep going and going, passing the sea buoy it would have been easy to do, and so it was with a certain momentary hesitation that we jibed the boat back around to the southwest, inbound. It is rare to find conditions so perfect, and as sailors we greedily hoard them for posterities sake.

Time for another beverage.

Approaching the mouth of the Pass, the entrance buoys beckoned us with their tireless tintinnabulation as we rode a following sea and rising tide between the jetties. Scarlet and crew pulled alongside momentarily in her big pontoon boat, and we chatted briefly, if not a bit lazily. Further up the pass, D, the twins and some friends of theirs stood waving and hailing us from the north jetty as we ghosted along on the now waning, diaphanous day.

Another jibe to the north and we are cruising wing on wing up the channel past Children’s Beach, the Coast Guard Station and to the entrance to the marina. I start the iron Genny, and point Olivia into the wind as we douse the canvas, tying it to the boom and pulpit. The tide is rising as we motor into the little harbor, and into ‘Div’s slip, uneventfully. The commander handles the bow lines, and I take care of the stern, switch off the engine, and now it’s time for another beverage.

It has been a idyllic day of sailing. Even more so to go out with another instinctual sailor, a waterman, and the work is divided without command, without word….it just gets done. Thank you commander.

So we sit for a long time enjoying the beer, and the end of the day. Sailing, as usual has given me an epiphany, a new view of life and the world.

Today, I have returned to my life as a bureaucrat, but not without questions.

I just got back from an extended soiree at dolphin cove and one of the pavilions under repair with the Commissioner, and the rest of the administrative crew.

At the pavilion we looked at a number of things, but for some reason I was taken by the scene outside of the area. People enjoying the beach, the sound of the light swell falling on the sand, the cry of the gulls, the position of the sun, the blue of the water and a whole lot of other circumstantial tactile sensations that transported me back to a more innocent, less hurried and less complex time.

A lone sailboat plied the waters five miles or so offshore, where we had been yesterday.

Experiencing an ineffable surge of melancholy and a certain sadness at watching others enjoy the beach that I know so well, I thought about building sand castles with my kids when they were young, surfing and just knocking around on the beach.

And….for a moment, I could almost relax and just be, without doing. It became painfully evident to me that life just passes us by because we become ensnared in what we convince ourselves is necessary, what we convince ourselves is important.

I have forgotten what it is like to feel the warmth of the sand under my feet, have ignored the smells of the ocean on the summer breeze and turned my back on the changing of the seasons along the beach.

I’m not sure if it will ever be possible to reclaim that. And that’s what made me feel momentarily gloomy.

Then I was back in my county shoes, all of us discussing the various aspects of infrastructure, repairs to be made, winter Texans to appease, budgets to address, timetables and such.

I couldn’t quite shake off the moment though….

I am determined however, to find a way to find my way back.