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.
Goodnight.
Also written on this day...
- the creak of dusty bones - 2017
- new headphones again - 2011
- cottonball marshmallows - 2009
- wheating, or wheated, or whatever - 2008
- the heat - 2005
- smoke 'em if ya got 'em - 2004
start growing your beard. and recruiting the deckhands. we can do this, skipper. actually pat would be skipper, since he has relentless knowledge in all areas, including sailing.
I did immediately think of drawing on Pat’s vast seafaring knowledge.
Aye, I can learn you a sailors ways – though you must first pillage a sturdy vessel. I will skipper a BVI trip before the end of me days – that’d be a good audition.