oooo What a lucky man he was...
2005-09-29

My co-worker is sitting at his desk repeating curse after curse at himself as the sun rises over his desk through the 8 foot tall windows. The two are not related. I have no idea (as usual) what brought on the swearing. I have a pretty good idea what causes the sun rise.
Yesterday wasn't a good day. I missed lunch working on a project for the owner. No new material is coming through the door. All my shipments are behind. Life here sucks as a whole, but the bills are getting paid. That's what is important right? The weather on the other hand was beautiful so I decided to sail even if I was the only one to go. I was...
I went home a bit early and took out puppy. Then I headed to the YC. Except for the three old guys sitting on the deck and the bartender inside, the place was empty. I got a red grapes and went out to sit in one of the rocking chairs to wait. 5:30 was my limit and when it came and went, so did I.
The launch only runs until 7:00 this time of year so I had a limited window of opportunity. I quickly prepped the boat and cast off in the light southerly breeze. It was cool enough that I needed a jacket, but not uncomfortable. At the red can at the channel mouth I rolled out the jib and trimmed it in and then shut off the diesel. The quiet was stunning. After a day with old yeller, the sound of little wavelets slapping agains the bow seemed like a chior of angels.
The boat was perfectly balanced and doing 3.5 knots so I watched the world go by until my glass of wine was empty. As I went below to get a refill I decided music would be a good thing and popped open the case. The first disc I came to was Chicago's Greatest Hits. Yeah that would work and I went back on deck to the sound of horns.
The breeze was building and the boat responded like the champ that it is. The speed just kept building and we just kept tracking straight as a string headed for the lighthouse in the distance. We got up to six knots in 11 knots of true breeze and I was in my element. The Shhhhhhh of the stern wake perfectly complemented the music. The outlines of the winches were emblazoned in orange on the cabinhouse from the sun that was setting behind my back. I thought... Hmm, the Annapolis girls should be here to enjoy this. They all seem to need a bit of tranquility these days. I sent you guys some of my good feelings. I hope it helped.
I seriously could have just kept going forever at that point. I could have just kept sailing and sailing and never turning back. Screw the world, screw the job, screw everything. Just wind and water and sun. The elements of life. I was approaching the green can. I checked my watch. Time for a decision. To turn back or keep on keeping on. Ugh...
Life always over rules. Back it is. Just as I'm ready to tack the phone rang. It was M.E. coming home. I told her where I was. She thinks I'm crazy for sailing alone, but she understands the need. The season is winding down. Soon these chances for bits of sanity will not exist.
I said goodbye and prepared my turn. Tacking a 40 foot sailboat alone in a breeze requires both arms one foot and a bit of luck. All were working fine as I made the turn and faced the rapidly setting sun for the first time. It was just sitting on top of the hill blazing orange and still bright enough to hurt my eyes. I adjusted the sail trim and power reached back to the world.
By this time the music had run through. I decided to pick at random and ELP's greatest hits came up. The first three songs, Lucky Man, C'est la vie and From the Begining... It's all clear, you were meant to be here... From the begining... Yes, I was.
By the time I came back up the sun was just a sliver. I had already turned on the running lights and I made a quick check to see that they were working. They were. We were still doing 5 knots and we ate up the distance back to the club all too quickly.
Some friends passed by, going for thier last sail of the year. The boat needed work so the mast was being pulled tomorrow. Sad. I seriously thought about turning around and giving chase. Instead I started the engine and rolled up the sail. I made it back to the mooring at 6:55. It was dark and except for the sounds of the jumping fish, quiet. I would have liked to stay but I got on the radio and called for the last launch of the day. A line from Jackson Browne came to mind, the only time that seems to short is the time that we get to play.
Sigh...
and life goes on
Ron

Previous - Next