I hear a gust roaring down on us like a freight train, the boat strains, spray lashes at our deck, we lurch and Sookie rights herself ready to shake off the next round. “I’m scared” Emily chirps from beneath her warm covers. When I ask her what she is afraid of she doesn’t know, I understand these words as if they are my own.
We’re at the guest dock fully exposed to the South West, we are not alone. By morning there will be one boat on the beach, frayed nerves, frayed dock lines and tired souls everywhere from a sleepless night, I slept like a baby. When the mind goes to sleep the brain turns off all of our senses, as sailors we learn to let our mind hibernate so we can find rest on a fitful night but over the years we develop a 6th sense that tells us exactly what to feel, hear and sense even from a deep slumber like living simultaneously in two worlds.
I love the motion, the sound of the driven rain battling against the oceans spray cleaning my decks and the feel of the sea surging beneath our little floating home. Sookie is an Island but also much more than that. Pulled by the wind she guides us down watery highways bringing the drawings on our paper charts to reality. For everything we love about the ocean there is something else to fear but sailors have short memories and soon enough the weather will turn pleasant again and our shore bound expedition will continue.
People sail for many reason, ours are pure and simple; we are treasure hunters. Our ship, driven by nothing other wind and tide is mighty. Our crew strong and brave and our wanderlust as powerful as any elixir. We are bounty hunters, our bounty is a reasonanble life and freedom and everything opposite of the American dream. There is a new treasure map sitting on my chart table, tracing a route with my finger I have a pretty good idea where our search will resume. This treasure isn’t buried but right in plain sight, all we have to do is find it.
“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” ― Anonymous