May 19, Day One at Sea (pix to come)

May 19

Never assume anything, say editors.

For instance, never assume anyone would be out in the Atlantic Ocean in a small sailboat at night without lights.

Pat was at the helm, autopilot guiding the way, when he became curious about an image that would appear on the radar intermittently.  It was right on the bow, which is a bad place for anything to appear in darkness (or at any time, actually).

I was on watch, and try as I might could not spot anything on the horizon either using regular binoculars or night-vision  (just like in the movies).

A voice came on over the VHS radio, crystal-clear , which meant the signal was at close range, asking: “Do you see me, Captain?”

Thus ensued an all-hands scramble to figure out what the hell was going on. 

Pat asked him what color lights he saw of ours, which would indicate his position, and we all became even more confused as we assumed who ever it was coming towards us.

Then we asked what lights he had on, and he sheepishly said his lights were out but he’d swing a flashlight.

Now, one might wonder how in the hell he expected anyone to see him without lights, but the world is made up of all kinds of lunatics.

I can tell when the captain of my heart and the captain of the boat is in high alert. His voice gets softer but firm.  We were in high alert.

Turns out we were bearing down on him, not that he was heading towards us. He stated his course, and we stated ours, and as long as we both stayed on those compass headings we would be fine. And we were.

It also served as a reminder that the new electronics are great for spotting big ships and can tell us their course and speed, but there is no substitute for having a watchful eye and the radio on at all times.

The above is a ‘sea story’. That’s what gets told when sailors get back to port:  The near misses; the dumb-asses out there and the fierce storms.

The stuff that doesn’t usually get told is the new normal experiences that we have that are the reasons we do this. The sunsets unencumbered by man-made obstacles, the occasional humongous fish that pop up out of the water, the dolphin sightings, the clear night sky where the stars are vividly on display. THAT’S what makes up 98% of our time on the sea. And that’s why we do it.

I had a weird dream. In it I was conferring with a catholic priest about how to save an historic landmark he wanted to preserve. We were having a normal conversation however I kept bouncing up and down as if I were on a pogo stick. He asked why I was bouncing and I told him I had no idea. I woke up and realized the sensation of bouncing was from the ocean. So if you’ve ever wondered what if feels like, and you’ve ever had a really long run on a pogo stick., THAT’S what it feels like.  Boing, boing, boing, boing, boing, boing, boing, boing, boing, boing, boing, boing….

Richard keeps thinking of a line from a Jimmy Buffet song, ‘Changes in Latitudes,’ that goes: so many nights I just dream of the ocean, God I wish I were sailing again….