, , , , , , ,

Hanging off the side of Sookie with my trusty knife in my mouth I slipped and watched it splash and spiral to the depths.  I scrambled to my feet and dove over chasing the glimmering fleck as my most prised possession spiraled out of sight into the dark murky brine.

As a child one of my fondest memories is of my first knife, it was hard earned by climbing the highest peak in the local Sierra Nevada range that backed to my house.  I remember the very first day I had it, how the bone handle fit in my hand, the shape of the blade and the feel and smell of its leather sheith. I stared transfixed at the deep red blood as it ran down my leg after I accidentally stabbed myself, it was beautiful, raw and a very bonding experience.  My father thought me how to care for the knife, it was my very first lesson in maintaining ones tools and laid the foundation for the care and feeding of every one of my very few possessions.  I don’t own manny things but what I do have is maintained to the highest of standards, always.  It’s not just pride in ownership but also a great appreciation for what this world has bestowed on me.

I literally would have starved to death without my blade in Hawaii, it’s small, über light and the sharpest blade on the planet.  It cares for me in the same mannor that I care for it, like Sookie, we take care of each other.  My blade like my boat and bike are merely an extension of who and what I am, you can tell a lot about a man by the way he wears and cares for his knife.

My lost blade was a family heirloom which sucks but more importantly I had completely restored it including a new razor sharp edge, it was to be a gift for my brothers 50th birthday.  I’m such a fucking idiot.  I already have a really nice blade and never should have been using this one but I loved it so much and thought using it on Sookie would add to its karma, whoops!

I was a bit shocked to find that the maker is still in business and ordered an exact duplicate that he can pass on when he is old and grey.  Stainless steel with a flat grind and no serrations is the only way a sailors knife should be.  Strong and almost rustproof it will need sharpening a bit more often than carbon steel but it’s all part of the process in bonding with the blade.

I waited impatiently for a whole month for delivery and now it’s in the postmasters hands, very belated but sure to put a smile on a sailors face when he opens it.  A sailor has many tools but the blade he wears on his belt is of the utmost importance. A sailor without a knife is like a fish out of water.

Liked it? Take a second to support Stormy on Patreon!