Sometimes I’m torn between my desire to go to sea and my doubts about my ability to handle it.
Not in reality, of course, but in my fantasies of being asea.
It sounds so romantic; months and months of just the water and the horizon and the family.
Also sounds a little The Shining; months and months of just the water and the horizon and the family.
I think I could get along. I’d grow a beard. Captains should have a beard.
Sharaun might hate it though. Keaton probably would too.
Maybe we’d all adapt. Maybe I’d hate it.
I wonder how one sets about becoming proficient enough at sailing to commit themselves to the swells for a prolonged period? Get a boat and take a class?
We get sabbaticals at work. Every seven years we get paid months away.
Months I could be spending with my family in the spray.