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The lure of pilot boats, sailing and blue water. I’m not talking crossing oceans, I’m talking blue water.  The kind you can see your toes through and the kind warm and inviting enough to keep you in and out of it all day.  Balmy trade winds, fresh fruit and… The dream is as real as the reoccurring nightmares I have of nearly starving to death on my last trip to the tropics.

I found this picture while creeping a wooden Falmouth cutter 26 for sale on the east coast, then a glass 26 Hess appeared for sale, one of 9 built, I know of 4 others out there, none of them for sail.  Why look if you aren’t going to buy?  Perhalps I was just listening to my instincts, some inner feeling that forces me to walk away from every pilot boat that crosses my path but still I’m hooked.  Hooked on sailing them, living on them and it goes without saying working on them.

If I sell everything I own that won’t fit in my backpack I can scrape enough money to fly one way to Papeete mid June.  I’ll arrive flat broke and hungry after 24 hours  of travel by thumb, bus, train, ferry and 4 flights.  Why would I do this? Did Hawaii teach me nothing?  Well all I’m saying is opportunity only knocks once and my destiny is calling me. On a piece of scratch paper I have two lists, pros and cons.  I’ve been staring at it intently for days but have not put a single word on either side.  I’m leaving this one up to the universe. If I’m still aboard Sookie  by the middle of June I guess I’ll know the answer I’ve been seeking my entire adult life.

I’m scared, really scared and excited, really excited.  Every experience I’ve had up until this point has been preparing me for the next voyage.  The thought of selling Sookie makes me want to throw up. I could just sail her there but then again I could just arrive by plane. Sometimes I think I’m like the dog looking at the reflection of his bone is the water.  He opens his mouth to bite the bigger one and loses both. I have to contain myself, I’m freaking out.

“There are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one’s cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore.”
― Nicholas Sparks, Message in a Bottle

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