MTV Spring Break Mutiny, Cranky Whales and Squid Nightmares

3/19/10 Depart Ixtapa/Zihuatanejo, Mexico
3/28/10 Arrive Bahia Del Sol, El Salvador
Distance: 905 Miles















Greetings from Bahia Del Sol, El Salvador! After six weeks in the great white north, it’s been quite a shock to be back in 95 degrees with high humidity. I’m happy to say that Shannon and her crew are well and resting at a marina one mile up a river that’s surrounded by dense jungle.

Good-byes are hard…so just bring ‘em with ya!
We started this leg of the voyage from Ixtapa/Zihuatenejo on March 19th with four great crew: Sarah, Adam, Reuben and Ron. Several of the crew spent six weeks here and made lots of friends while exploring the area. I could tell they were a bit torn saying good-bye to their friends. To ease the pain, I told them we could take a few of them with us for an overnight cruise to Acapulco. Well, one friend became two and before we knew it we had five castaways: Daniela, Mason, Checko, Matt and Laura. We had a beautiful run down to Acapulco under clear skies. One of the more memorable moments was the impromptu concert that Checko, a professional guitarist, and Reuben provided for the crew. While scudding along with dusk settling upon the ocean, Checko serenaded the crew with Mexican and Cuban songs while Reuben accompanied on mandolin – not bad!

MTV Spring Break Acapulco Mutiny
As we made our way toward Acapulco, one of the young crew mentioned that the MTV Spring Break was taking place in Acapulco. As a result, the primping began twenty miles out and by the time we entered the Acapulco harbor at 2:30am, I had a mutiny on my hands. Seven of my ten crew were ready to swim ashore to join the party. Fortunately, I found a marina with a sympathetic security guard who allowed us to do a “touch and go” to allow the revelers a chance to jump onto a dock without getting wet. As for me and the remaining crew, we went and found a mooring ball for the night. As we tied off in perfectly flat water (great sleeping conditions), it occurred to me that I was looking forward to a solid night’s sleep about as much as my young crew was looking forward to their party ashore – funny how things change with age! About mid-morning the next day, my bedraggled beach bashers made their way back to Shannon by water taxi. We bid adieu to Acapulco and waved to our five wonderful castaways on shore and by noon we were off to our date with destiny – the dreaded Tehuantepec Bay.

An Old Salt
A few years ago I met an old timer, Harold, who told me how he sold everything and sailed around the world for ten years starting at age 60. I sat mesmerized by his tales of storms, interesting characters and exotic ports. Over the years, I’ve noticed that there are two types of cruisers: those who do (Salts) and those who tinker in the marina, read all the books, and can quote verbatim the USCG rules of the road (Marina Sailors). The Marina Sailors can compare and contrast storm strategies, hull to deck joint methods, and displacement ratios like a crazed professor. On the other hand, I’ve noticed that the Salts have all of that expertise plus a quality that is quite ineffable. It’s a look in their eye and tone in their voice that reveals that they have indeed faced their greatest fears and inner demons and lived to tell about it.

At the time that I knew Harold, I would have categorized myself as a Marina Sailor. At one point during our conversation, I asked Harold about his storm strategies. Having just read quite a few books on the subject, I was looking forward to good discussion on the matter. Harold looked me in the eye and said, “Do you want to know the difference between a fairy tale and sea story?” I nodded and he continued, “A fairy tale starts off with, ‘Once upon a time’ and a sea story starts with, “This is no bullshit.” He gave a snort as he laughed heartily.

Not willing to let it go, I asked him once again how he handled rough weather. He snapped, “To hell with the storms, I’d just put up the trisail, pour myself a double scotch, put the young crew behind the wheel and retire to my cabin. If I awoke, I figured we made it through.” I mentioned that I had just read of that strategy in one of my books. Harold paused for a second and let out another loud snort that shook his frail frame

Sea Story #1
Let me preface this by saying, this is no bs: Late in the day as we were roughly half way between Acapulco to Huatulco, we passed what looked like an oil slick about 80 yards off our port beam. Having seen quite a few whales in my time, I’ve noticed that when they are just below the surface, the water takes on an oily appearance. I mentioned to the crew that they might want to keep an eye on that spot. Within seconds out of the corner of my eye I saw a huge splash and heard the crew squeal in amazement.

A very large humpback whale had just breached – something I’ve never seen before. As we continued to move away from the spot where the whale breached, we noticed that it was actually two whales, a mother and calve. Within seconds, the mother breached again and then again, but this time a bit closer to us. Hmmm?? By the time she breached for a third time she had reduced the distance down to 50 yards – she was clearly agitated and trying to chase us away from her offspring.















My first thought was to push the boat full throttle to get away from this 40 ton sea monster that seemed bent on doing me and my crew harm. My second thought was denial, “This just can’t happen, whales are docile creatures.” My third thought was irrational righteous indignation, “Hey, I contribute to Greenpeace and National Geographic. I even recycle, what gives ya stupid fish?”

In the end, it made for a lot of discussion that evening and will go down as one of the most awesome displays of beauty and power that I have ever seen in nature. Lastly, note to self: don’t mess with mommas.

Sea Story #2
You know that dream where you wake up in a cold sweat because you’ve had a nightmare that a snake, rodent or some other slimy creepy crawler has gotten into your bed or sleeping bag? It’s worse in real life. I have the forward cabin on Shannon. It’s a wonderful birth at anchor or in a marina. However, underway, the cabin goes up and down with the swell more so than the rest of the boat. This cabin also has forward opening hatches which means waves and spray will make it in if the hatches are open. In 90 plus degrees, I don’t mind the occasional soaking, so I leave the hatches open. After all, what could go wrong?

On this particular night, after many nights of minimal sleep, I was finally dozing soundly. Around 2am I felt a few drops of spray make it through the hatch onto my shoulder. I thought nothing of it and dozed off again. A few minutes later the droplets on my shoulder felt like they were moving so I reached over to feel what was going on and touched something very slimy that was indeed moving – aagghh! Springing out of bed, I flicked on the light and, to my astonishment, a squid about three inches in length was staring back at me and still alive!

I immediately grabbed my slimy guest and dashed through the cabin to toss him out the hatchway. The next morning we found six more squid on the deck. We weren’t taking waves over the bow, so I have no idea how they could have landed that far up on the deck. We theorized that they were either attracted to our steaming lights or were be chased by something. After recounting my horror of finding one in my bed. My crew took this as an opportunity to share their horror of seeing me run through the cabin in my tighty whities at 2am murmuring something about a damn fish in my bed. I don’t get a break!

Tehuantepec Bay
I have a problem and it’s starting to affect my relationships and work: I stare at charts. I admit it. I do it for hours. I spent the six weeks in Minnesota looking at charts and reviewing various theories as to how to cross the infamous Tehuantepec Bay without getting blown 200 miles out to sea. From what I can gather, the nature of the topography in this area of Mexico creates what is called a venturi effect. As pressure builds up in the Gulf of Mexico it funnels through a narrow gap to the Pacific side. As a result, this funnel effect creates very strong winds and dangerously high waves which results in mariner getting blown out to sea – how nice! So, to stay within the category of “prudent mariner,” I decided to talk to as many old salts as possible while making our way toward our date with destiny. In the end, I took the advice of an old salt who goes by the name Crazy George. I know that doesn’t sound very prudent. However, George has crossed the Tehuantepec many times and the weather forecast gave us a five day window before the wind piped up again.

Thankfully, our three day crossing was completely uneventful. The only challenge was the stifling heat. Once we were well beyond the danger zone of the Tehuantepec wind, I allowed the crew to take a break and go swimming in the middle of the ocean - 18,000 feet deep and crystal clear.




























Kayak Refugees and Big Surf
We arrived at Bahia Del Sol, El Salvador around 6am on the morning of March 28th. We were instructed to wait until high tide at noon before attempting to cross the bar to the river that leads to the marina. Having traveled 905 miles, Adam and Reuben just couldn’t wait and asked to use the kayaks to go ashore. After surfing huge waves, the two of them sent back word via VHF that they were at the marina cantina and safe and sound. The only problem was they had no ID and had just entered the country illegally. Fortunately, some of the other cruisers were able to take care of them and keep them out of sight of immigration until we arrived and cleared all the necessary paperwork.

At noon, we and three other sailboats were escorted by wave runners through BREAKING WAVES in NINE feet of water up to the mouth of the river. Approaching a beach in breaking waves is not what you normally do on a sailboat. Thankfully, our guides were excellent. As I cleared the last big wave, the owner of the marina was in one of the guide boats and gave us a hearty, “Welcome to El Salvador!” Indeed!!














The happy crew celebrates their arrival in El Salvador. Viva El Salvador!

Our next leg will start on April 23rd and, with a little luck, we should be at the Panama Canal by May 8th.

I'd Rather Have a Palapa in Yelapa than a Condo in Redondo

1/23/10 Depart Puerto Vallarta
1/30/10 Arrive Zihuatanejo/Ixtapa
Distance: 395 Miles

















After three weeks of visits from family and close friends, the time has come for me to leave beautiful Puerto Vallarta. While in PV, I took several groups across the bay to a little town called Yelapa. While underway, we were often surrounded by a pod of spinner dolphins and they would do their best to impress us with amazing acrobatics.



















Yelapa is a beautiful little village: thatched roof huts (Palapas) cling to the jungle mountainside overlooking the clear blue bay. There are no roads to Yelapa and, as a result, it has a charm all its own. The local ex-pats have a saying, “I’d rather have a Palapa in Yelapa, than a condo in Redondo.”















With good wind and clear skies, the expedition from Puerto Vallarta to Ixtapa was fairly uneventful. The raw beauty of the Mexican coast with its azure swell, exploding whitewater, rugged mountains, and empty beaches was truly breathtaking.















Shannon is currently resting comfortably in Ixtapa. Our next expedition will be to El Salvador starting on March 18th. Until then, fair winds.

Hoisting the John B Sails

12/29/09 Depart Cabo San Lucas
12/31/09 Arrive Puerto Vallarta
Distance: 305 Miles


It’s the night before our departure and Cabo San Lucas is getting pounded by a very rare tropical downpour, water is running through the streets one foot deep, three of my four crew are hung-over, and the fourth was due in three hours earlier and is nowhere to be found. Well, isn’t this special.

What to do? I had no choice but to let it be what it’s gonna be and hope for the best. Of course, that doesn’t preclude me from expressing an opinion or two. Just as I had that thought my fourth crew member, J.L., walked by the cantina I was hunkered down in while enjoying the storm. Happily, things kept improving from that point on.

Over a fine Mexican dinner, my listless young crew recounted their previous night on the town in an ever-changing convoluted story that included words like: tequila shots, wallet, atm card, id, lost, policia, etc. I decided they were suffering enough and let it drop.

We departed at 6am under clear skies and fair winds. As my young crew turned shades of green throughout the day, I couldn't help but smile and think of the Sloop John B:

"So hoist up the John B's sail, See how the mainsail sets
Call for the captain ashore, let me go home, let me go home
I wanna go home, well I feel so broke up, I wanna go home."
- Sloop John B, Beach Boys

By early evening, we had 20-30 knots off the stern as we bound across the beautiful Sea of Cortez under a nearly full moon. The consistency of these idyllic sailing conditions held for the second day and was only interrupted by the occasional sighting of grey whales, porpoise, sea turtles, sea lions, and the dorsal fin of a whale shark!

We arrived at Paradise Village Marina, a few miles north of Puerto Vallarta, at 8am on New Years Eve. Thankfully, Shannon is currently rocking comfortably in her slip and the crew is safe, sound and happy to be ashore.


The crusty crew celebrates the passage with beauties, Meghan and Winona.

Wishing you all fair winds in 2010!

Here Comes the Sun

12/19/09 Depart San Diego
12/26/09 Arrive Cabo San Lucas
Distance: 750 Miles
















Merry Christmas to all! Or as they say here in Cabo San Lucas, Feliz Navidad! I arrived on the morning of December 26th and have been catching up on sleep ever since. Upon my arrival, I received the best Christmas present that I could ask for in the form of lots of messages of warm wishes from family and friends.

Casting Off
After, what seems like a lifetime, I finally departed on my voyage aboard, Shannon, my 41 foot sailboat. I didn’t think I would ever complete my endless list of to-do’s and boat projects, but alas, I did get it all done and departed from San Diego for Cabo San Lucas at 5pm on December 19th.

Because of some unexpected scheduling conflicts, I had to postpone my original departure date by a few weeks. As a result I lost my three crewmates and decided to hire another captain friend of mine, Mike Kelley, to join me for the 750 mile run. Captain Mike has a breadth of experience including five passages through Panama Canal. Mike is also a very good diesel mechanic which is an art that seems to have escaped my genetic make-up. The Baja Peninsula is one of the most desolate places on earth - there is no pulling over to the local village for quick repairs, so I’m thankful that Captain Mike was able to join me for this leg.

The first three days were uneventful. We had very little wind and ended up motoring the entire way. Mike and I would take three hour watches, which is just enough to give you enough rest to function without ever letting you feel well rested.

Turtle Bay
On the morning of day three, we arrived at a little town called Turtle Bay. TB is a dusty little town surrounded by mountains and lies about halfway between San Diego and Cabo San Lucas. Its people are warm, simple and quick to smile. This oasis is also a great place to get some fuel and much needed rest. After taking a power nap, I climbed a small mountain that overlooks the bay. As I sat on top looking out at the endless Pacific, I felt nothing but gratitude for my life, my family and my friends. Sweaty, dusty and sleep deprived and I’ve never been happier – go figure!

Stormy Seas
Mike and I left Turtle Bay at dawn on December 23rd. We immediately found ourselves in 25 knots of wind with building seas. By midnight we were 60 miles offshore in 8-10 foot seas and 30-40 knots of wind on the stern. I’m happy to report that Shannon had no problem with those conditions. On the other hand, it was quite exhausting for both Mike and me in that we had to steer by hand the entire night. With a very large following sea, it’s just not practical to use the autopilot.

While I’m learning to trust my instruments (radar/GPS) more and more, I must admit that sailing at night is on the edge of my comfort zone. The fact that I’m making the boat go as fast as possible while not being able to see one foot beyond the bow is a bit disconcerting. My logic tells me that it’s one big empty ocean. However, the sensation is one of driving your car without headlights on a moonless night!

I like the 3-6am shift the best, because I get to distract myself by looking for the first hint of light, the sun, a new day, and best of all, my ability to see beyond the bow!! With night after night of cold spray, slapping waves, and consuming darkness, I found myself feeling overwhelming gratitude for the sun, it's warmth, and life giving energy. Trust me, without the sun we would be just another cold lifeless rock in the universe.

“It’s been a long cold lonely winter...It feels like years since it’s been here, here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it’s all right.” –George Harrison

The Three Kings
A few years ago I ran across a story that stipulated that the Christmas story of three kings going east to find the son of man was symbolic in nature and actually adapted from ancient sun mythology. The article went on to say that Orion's Belt is often referred to as the "Three Kings" because of their equidistant symmetry. As legend has it, on one day a year, December 25th, the three kings line up vertically and point to a spot on the horizon where the sun will rise that day. In other words, the three kings were not following a star in the east pointing to where the birth of son will take place to give man new life. Rather, the three kings were stars pointing to the east where the sun will rise that day to give man new life. With nothing much to do on a clear night while sailing the high seas, I put it to the test and took a bearing on the three kings as they pointed to the east. Well, as predicted, the sun made its appearance in that exact spot at 5:30am on Christmas morning! What a miraculous and enchanting world we live in!

Warmth and Wally World
On the morning of December 26th we rounded the distinctive rock formations that make Cabo San Lucas so breathtaking. In addition, the water is clear, aqua and 80 degrees!

In contrast to the natural beauty of the outer harbor, the inner harbor has apparently been discovered by more than wayward crusty sailors. The best way to describe the inner harbor is to note that Hooters is between Starbucks and Cartier - enough said!

Well, that's all for now. I have three days to rest before setting off on the next leg for Puerto Vallarta.

Wishing you and yours a very happy new year filled with peace and joy.

When All Else Fails

In these very tumultuous and seemingly uncertain times it is very easy for us to feel overwhelmed and even paralyzed with the demands of our personal and professional lives. With the steady diet of bad news coming in about the war in the Middle East, loss of America’s high morale standing in the world and tanking economy, many of us are feeling at a loss as to how to put it into context.

“Thy sea is so vast and my boat is so small.” - A Sailor’s Prayer

As I was thinking about how to address these issues, my first impulse was to play it safe and discuss the topics that pervade the business books on the current best seller list: identifying the problem, establishing priorities, creating accountability, setting goals, making a plan, committing to action and getting results. As effective as these approaches can be in everyday business, they seem a bit trite relative to what is going on in our world.

Reviewing these topics without addressing the daunting personal issues at hand would be like fishing for minnows while ignoring the fact that we’re standing on a whale. The whale that needs to be addressed is how do we anchor ourselves in an ocean of chaos and heartbreak? What is it that we are to hold onto when all around us seems so out of control and unthinkable? The answer that kept coming to me as I pondered this question was not from any of the business publications or nationally known consultants, but from St. Paul in one of his letters to the Corinthians:

“And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

FAITH
Faith is an expression of our most deeply held beliefs. This type of faith is often highly personal and unique to our spiritual tradition. I would like to acknowledge this fact by leaving it to the reader to determine how to best honor and express that faith in a way that adds rich meaning to their life.

What I would like to address is the everyday aspects of faith. In addition to having faith in a supreme being or the divine, is it possible to have faith in our family, community and humanity? I believe the answer to this question is a resounding “yes.” Faith becomes a powerful and dynamic force in our lives when we express it. A faith that is not expressed is simply an idea, and an idle one at that.

Some of the most powerful words in the English language are “I believe in you,” “ I trust you,” and “I have faith in you.” Do you have faith in your significant other? Express it; tell them you believe in them and watch as they delight in these words. Do you have a faith in your children? Express it; tell them you believe in them and watch them light up. Do you have faith in your employees? Express it; tell them how much you believe in them and appreciate the work they do. Watch as they respond in way to make your belief in them justified.

We simply do not want to let down those people who believe in us. We may assume that our family members, employees, and friends know that we believe in them, but that’s not enough. It feels great to hear these words and it also feels great to say them. By expressing our faith in the people we appreciate, we are nurturing the personal and professional relationships that truly enrich our lives. It is our close relationships that will sustain us through the stormy seas of life. Nurture them with gentleness and faith and watch as they provide a healing salve to life’s most difficult challenges.

HOPE
Hope is a beautiful thing and is especially necessary during uncertain times. What brings each of us hope and delight is unique and it is up to each of us to seek it out. Hope doesn’t have to be ethereal or other worldly. In fact, it can best be defined as something as simple as whatever brings a sparkle to our eye or a smile to our face.

“Why don’t we just tell them our names?” --LauraBeth Kulbacki, 4 years old. On how to deal with terrorists who hate a country full of people they don’t know.

The things that bring us hope are all around us all the time. It could be as simple as the smell of hazelnut coffee in the morning, or appreciating the magnificence of the sky at dusk, or having a productive and enjoyable meeting with a client, or feeling amused at the uncontrollable joy your dog feels as you walk through the front door, or sharing a belly laugh with a close friend, or noticing the deafening quiet during an evening snowfall as you head for home, or hearing those magical words “I love you Daddy” as your child wraps their small arms around your neck to kiss you goodnight.

However, hope has an upside and a downside and it is important for us to understand this. On the downside, we cannot possess or control the events that will bring hope into our lives. These events are quite often not predictable and typically last only a moment or two. On the upside, these events are part of an endless stream that will continue throughout our entire life if we are willing to look for them.

The key to becoming a fine connoisseur to that which will bring a sparkle to our eye is to stay alert, have no preconceived expectations, revel in the moment, and then let it go. For example, last night the sunset was beautiful, tonight you were expecting the same, but it’s raining. Last night your child was an angel, tonight you were expecting the same but they’re having a tantrum.

As adults we are often subjected to significant demands at work and at home. It’s very easy to get caught up with it all and lose touch with those events that create hope in our lives. In her book, “Nature – Sense of Wonder,” Rachel Carson captures the challenge that we face as adults:

“A child’s world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most of us, that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood. If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things that are artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength.”

Let’s remember to look at life through the eyes of a child and recapture that which will bring a sparkle to our eye and a smile to our face. Start looking today and you will surely find it.

LOVE
A few years ago I had an insightful moment that permanently changed the way I viewed love, the holidays, and the act of giving and receiving. A friend of mine challenged me by asking, “Mike, how does it feel to give to others?” Of course, my response to this question was, “It feels great!” He continued, “Well, if giving is such a fulfilling experience, why won’t you let others give to you? Why won’t you give others the opportunity to feel the satisfaction that you just described? You are the one that always picks up the tab.”

It felt like I had been hit over the head with a two-by-four. I instantly thought of the disappointed look on my daughter’s face when I told her that she should not have spent so much money on her Christmas present for me. I had learned a valuable lesson that I would not forget. Giving and receiving are one and the same. It is a law similar to the laws in physics.

The more we give and receive, the more satisfaction we will reap in our personal and professional life - it’s that simple. It is in our nature to give and receive love, and this is true of many other living creatures as well.

Let me give you an example. When I was a small child, I had a dog named Shamus who demonstrated this law beautifully. He was often referred to as that “hairy ball of love.” It was his mission in life to give everybody he met all of his love with as much affection and sloppy licks as he could muster. When he was done giving his love, he would move closer and be still so we could pat him on the head. When he received enough pats on the head, he would roll over on his back to give us the opportunity to scratch his chest and belly. He would even let out a few groans to let us know that we were doing a good job.

Shamus wasn’t giving his love to obligate people to pat him on the head. He simply thrived on giving and receiving love! It was his nature to express both with all of his being. We are designed the same way. It really doesn’t matter what we give, as long as it’s from our heart. So, I’d encourage you to give and receive as much love as you can and then watch as miracles happen in your life.

If we can take time to nurture our relationships, become alert to that which brings a sparkle to our eye, and give and receive lots of love; we will most certainly get through these difficult times together. In closing, perhaps it is best to remember the eloquent and gentle exhortation of Desiderata:

Desiderata,

By Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,and remember what peace there may be in silence.As far as possible without surrenderbe on good terms with all persons.Speak your truth quietly and clearly;and listen to others,even the dull and the ignorant;they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,they are vexations to the spirit.If you compare yourself with others,you may become vain and bitter;for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.Exercise caution in your business affairs;for the world is full of trickery.But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;many persons strive for high ideals;and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.Especially, do not feign affection.Neither be cynical about love;for in the face of all aridity and disenchantmentit is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,gracefully surrendering the things of youth.Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline,be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,no less than the trees and the stars;you have a right to be here.And whether or not it is clear to you,no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,whatever you conceive Him to be,and whatever your labors and aspirations,in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,it is still a beautiful world.Be cheerful.Strive to be happy.

Wishing you much faith, hope and love.

By God I know I’m Alive

34 18 N 76 15 W
Cape Hatteras, North Carolina

A low pressure system has stalled over Florida and it’s been raining for three days. We haven’t even left the harbor and everything I own is damp and smells like a locker room. With seven men on a 47-foot cutter for the next week, it’s starting to dawn on me that this isn’t going to be any Caribbean charter featuring comfort, sunshine and Mai Tais with umbrellas.

No, this is going to be a full-on blue water expedition and decidedly short on comfort. Our captain is sailor and author, John Kretchmer (http://www.yayablues.com/). John has an affable manner, fine sense of humor and is to the point. After reviewing safety procedures aboard Quetzal, he makes the point that to be happy on board, one must get back to the basics – eating, sleeping and sh…processing. Alrighty then. The women in my life would be so horrified at this point that they would demand an airlift. I just smile as I try to picture Captain Stubing giving this talk to Julie McCoy, Doc and Gopher.

Our trip is scheduled to depart St. Augustine, Florida and take us offshore 100 miles, then 600 miles north to Chesapeake Bay. Our first night offshore, I wake from a fitful sleep to take my watch at midnight. I am aware that the groggy feeling that I am experiencing is not so much sleep deprivation as it is sea sickness. Donning my damp clothing in the pitching and rolling darkness, existential questions swirl in my head: “Why did I sign up for this? What am I looking for in life? Why are the Steelers world champions when no other country has an NFL team? Did I just put my pants on backwards?” An unexpected pitch and roll slams me into the bulkhead and out of my circular thinking.















Pinballing off the sides of the companionway, I’m reminded of something Joseph Campbell once said: “The serendipitous adventure you find yourself on may be tough at times, but by God you know you’re alive!” I whisper to myself, “damn right” as I assess whether I would make it up on deck in time to offer last night’s dinner to King Neptune.

My watch-mate, Chris, and I have been content to sit in silence in the wee hours while listening to the wind, waves and creaking hardware. With a double reefed main and jib, and 25 knots of wind on the beam, Quetzal is bounding through the waves and heeling hard. Our complacency is suddenly shattered by a violent flapping of the jib. The wind has changed direction; we decide to hold course and winch in the sail.

We surf the Gulf Stream at a consistent 10 knots of speed. The amount of power the 30,000-pound vessel harnesses is both breathtaking and frightening as we accelerate into the darkness. Still, the darkness isn’t just foreboding and empty. Above, I see clusters of brilliant stars and the Milky Way. Below, I see the bio-luminescence in our wake – dancing in the waves like hundreds of fire flies. Disney and Pixar can come up with all the special effects they want, but it will always be a pale imitation of the real thing.

Three days later as we approach Chesapeake Bay, I notice that the “locker room” intruder has departed my clothing. Or maybe I’ve become one with foulness -- it’s hard to tell. In any case, it’s captain’s hour, the sun is shining, the beer cold, the spinnaker flying and the crew in good spirits, as are the dolphins frolicking off the bow. I feel fortunate and amazed.

Our conversations during the passage range from jokes, boats, women, food, politics, work, marriage, kids, divorce and sailing destinations. Nothing too personal or revealing is offered, no trite pearls of wisdom given. Just a fellowship of men sharing an adventure – and that is enough.

Though I didn’t notice for a while, something else is speaking on the boat. It could be heard in the whoosh of the waves, swirling salt air, rhythm of the swells, and creaking teak. Powerful and primordial, it has been speaking to man for millennia. A sacred voice that disregards the scattered and trivial concerns of the mind and speaks directly to the soul.

To label it is to cheapen it, to listen in silence for days, a panacea. It’s why young people squeal in its froth until they resemble little prunes and old people sit content for hours within earshot of its surf. It can only be hinted at by the likes of Conrad, Melville and Slocum and will never be able to be packaged, marketed and sold.

I admire our captain for having the wisdom to give the crew space and let this process unfold. I also admire my fellow crewmates for just making it on the boat in the first place. Our culture likes to label such pursuits as irresponsible, self-serving, juvenile and the result of a mid-life crisis. Nothing could be further from the truth.

















Life can be complex, and I don’t want to minimize the pressures we each face. Yet I do believe that each of us must find a way to balance our responsibilities while keeping that “by God I know I’m alive” flame burning bright in our lives. We don’t have to risk life and limb or, for that matter, even go to sea…it’s all around, all we have to do is notice.

I notice this spirit in my family. My older brother is pushing 50, and he and his wife recently welcomed their first child. As a teacher of 16-year-olds by day and writer and doting father by night, he’s been tired – yet I could hear in his exhausted voice the echo of something profound and joyful as he spoke of diapers, formula and vomit. And my niece, Laura, recently relayed how she wanted to pinch herself as she sat cold, wet, and tired in her rowing skull inches from the frigid Thames as the moon rose over the London skyline.

Life has its seasons and I know that I won’t be able to go to sea forever. Perhaps years from now my “by God I know I’m alive” moments will be when I discover that I forgot to put my teeth in and went shopping in just my robe. Until then, with a little grace and luck, you’ll find me on the water, listening to the wind, waves and creaking teak.