Asleep At The Switch

My first anniversary since departure passed without my noticing. I thought the date was important, but I let it slip by without a thought. So, having missed it, but wanting to write something about it, I reviewed some emails this morning which I had sent out the day of my departure from Norfolk, Va, and the days following. Perhaps none reading this care, but it is a significant omission for me. One year away from the States, so far.

First, I want to say that in this past year, after suffering through a very traumatic first week or so at sea, and a second tropical storm at sea, that I look back in only a positive way, and don't regret the decision to depart one tiny bit. It was a good decision and I am proud of doing it. (In fact, I only wish that I could have done this earlier in life.)

In the outgoing emails that I found, I announce on the morning of Nov 6th, that I will be departing about 1 or 2 that afternoon. The next email was sent after departure about 5 hours later, with an accompanying latitude and longitude. I might pause to explain that, with a laptop and software and a single side band radio, and a few hundred dollars a year fee, I can send and receive very brief emails - more like text messages. I sent them to my friend Paul- my mentor - my friend Bart in NC, Wes, a friend from the marina in Baltimore, Mike, the broker who had sold me Annah Foster, and my family. I could receive email from them as well, and Paul followed along with daily and sometimes several times a day with replies, advice, and jokes. I remember that departure morning pretty well. Best of my recollections was the look of the Atlantic that day - grey, white caps, windy. I procrastinated untieing the dock lines from that last American marina, and, although I knew I would depart, found several excuses to linger and hesitate. I was excited on the outside, but surely petrified inside.

My emails for the first few days make jokes about how poorly I stowed the boat, with stuff all over the floor, and how I lost a dolphin I had hooked from the deck when a wave washed it overboard after I had removed the hook from its mouth. It was one of 2 I caught, and was angry at myself for catching and killing such a beautiful animal, and then losing it to the sea before I could eat it. When the seas started to get rough, I even wrote that I was having my nails done that afternoon, and friend Wes joked with me asking if I had gotten the pizza he had ordered for me for delivery.

On the 12th, I described my day of calm and that night, the wind beginning to make the halyards bang on the masts, late that night. Late in the morning of the 13th, I write that I have lost my steering. The rest of the emails for the next few days show tension, rough seas (as I could not type to save my life and the spelling is terrible), fear, calm, acceptance, and pride. On the 14th, I write that I am going to try to get to Bermuda, and that was the last of my emails on that system, since I used my Hotmail account to send out the word that I had made it safely to Bermuda. I had tossed with no rudder for about 36 hours, followed by 24 hours sitting on the stern with the emergency tiller. I left the stern 4 times in those hours, and still recall the cramped hands and bruised ribs from holding and leaning into the tiller to steer.

Since that un-auspicious beginning, followed by 6 weeks in Bermuda, a 10 day sail to St Martin, 6 months there, and an 18 day sail here to Roatan, with a few bumps along the way, I have had a ball. Met some wonderful people. Have seen some really cool things. There have been a few big hangovers. A few lonely days and nights. Parties. Quiet days reading, and watching my rear end get bigger. Fearful moments at sea. Several big winds at anchor, at sea, and here, tied to the dock in Honduras.

Several milestones for me personally were coming up to that one year anniversary - I had not slept on land for a year, or had not driven a car for a year, but things in my life changed and I did not make it the full 12 months. No big deal at all. In fact was doing much nicer stuff that ended the runs. But the one year since departure should have been prominent in my mind. I should have iced down this old bottle of Asti I brought along and celebrated but was pleasantly distracted by a beautiful woman, and don't regret forgetting and letting it slip by.

So, a few days tardy, I mentally hoist a glass to myself, my life, my choice, my parents, to good friends- met and waiting to be met, and the future.

Life IS good!