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One of the many things I love about sailing is that it forces you to live in the present. It doesn’t matter where you came from or where you hope to get to, the sea doesn’t care.  You are forced deeply into a realm that never stops moving, never rests and more often than not will force you to work for every single hard earned mile. There is a zen to the massive amount of work it takes to maintain a boat like Sookie, the payoff can’t be described with a few or even a million data bites.

There is no image that can reveal how cold and wet that whole week was.  How angry the sea was right before Aeolus shut down leaving you engineless in a confused sea with a tanker bearing down on you.  Sunsets and pretty pictures are fairy tales.  You can’t smell the morning fresh air thick with salt from a place your experiencing for the first time by the dawns early light.  You can’t feel the salt being washed off your weary soul after a week of stink.  The taste of a warm beer after a hard days journey, the fiftieth consecutive one.   These things that only exist for a brief moment in time are better than sex, …well shit, ok let’s just say it’s unmeasurable in the depths of ones imagination.

To experience a life at sea is not all ocean crossings, bad weather and broken gear. The people you meet, the lessons you learn.  Challenges bested, experience gained and lessons relearned again and again. You can stand at the waters edge for a million years and never catch a single glimpse at what a sailor sees just 100 yards from shore as the land slowly slips away. Nothing can prepare you for the levels of fear you experience or how fast you will adapt and turn it into nothing more than a passing moment in time.

I was recently asked if I was afraid to die and the answers were hell yes…hell no… dying is something that doesn’t actually matter, it’s something no human can ever realize. So we are faced with choices, I’m dying, your dying, this ride is almost over for every one of us.  Tonight, my jam box is rocking, the wine is as deep as the ocean and here I am ending yet another day of my life that I’ll never get back.  Yep, I made 350 bucks, money, life, money, life, your money or your life…

If I owned the ocean I’d give her as freely as the air I breath but no man owns the sea, no man owns anything but his right to choose, or not to choose his destiny and how much he has of it. I can’t help but to wonder if some, perhaps including myself have set such a far off date for our someday adventures that we will actually die of old age before ever realizing them and maybe that’s the point. Something to occupy the mind and keep it alive while we toil a way in a misery that we’ve convinced outselfs isn’t that bad.  Making other people rich with our life’s units, it’s all a voluntary slavery that we begged for after 21 years of preparing and working toward the ultimate goal of lots of little pieces of green paper to wipe our asses with when we are too old to do anything else.

From the log of Sookie, We all have one single talent, I’ve always wanted to be a rockstar or an inventor. Of corse I’m not a rockstar or an inventor. All I have is a boat and a bike, camera, iPad and um yes there is that on way ticket to Tahiti, like my life it’s non refundable and non transferable. I have to use it now or lose it forever.

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