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Yet another blow has me locked  inside hiding from the storm.  Sookies new surround sound sound system fills the void between the sun and summer.  I’m looking for a new place to drop my hook, maybe BC, not the gulf islands but Cortez is sounding good and I think i can scrape up a bit of work there.  Moving when you own a boat is as easy as untying the lines.


Sitting at the fuel dock smoking a ciggi and sipping on a big red, I leaned back into the life lines and smiled.  As sailors we all put up with a serious amount of shit to find that perfect little cove.  Like hearing voices in my head she whispers to me  from the waters edge in the rolling sand.  Sailing is sudductive, but the lifestyle is the Sadductress, luring us in day by bay, week by week until one day we wake up with that distant stare in our eyes, the stare only a sailor knows. It’s a stare that says, I’ve been around.

I remember arriving at an old Rickety Wooden dock! beaten; I dropped to my hands and knees, kissed the dock and swore I would never go to sea again as long as I lived, a hurricane at sea will do things like this to us.  Less than 24 hours later I was back out, sailors have short memories or should a say selective ones. The rattle from the chain pipe after a hard passage, cracking a warm beer because you can’t afford ice, yet you have beer.  That feeling falling asleep drifting on a cloud, your whole world being held in place by a half inch piece of string.  If I could bottle these things I could make my fortune, but these experiences  can’t be bought and sold like a two dollar whore.

If you want to feel the freedom of voyaging there is only one way to do it.  Get a boat, any boat will do.  Quit your job, cut the dock lines and point her in any direction. It doesn’t matter where you go, just go anywhere you’ve never been.  You don’t have to push your comefort level to find her gentle whisper, you have to throw it to the wind.  You will learn a new level of fear that you didn’t know existed, like when the wind blows so hard it actually knocks thirty foot seas flat.  This fear is raw and it’s alive in all of us, all we have to do is find it, on the other side is that bay.  Its  there where you will hear her quiet whispers and in her you will develope the stare of the voyager.

Quiet nights of quiet stars quiet chords from my guitar 

Floating on the silence that surrounds us.

Quiet thoughts and quiet dreams quiet walks by quiet streams

And a window looking on the mountains and the sea, how lovely. – Frank Sinatra 

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