The history of cruising friends

We've said it on this blog many times - the best thing about cruising, hands down, is the people you meet. Relationships are made quickly, run deep, and last a very long time.

Long before we even bought Kintala, I was sitting in the cockpit of our first boat, Nomad, enjoying the afternoon. I heard some sails tacking behind me, on the other side of the rock breakwater that separated the marina from the channel. No engine running. I was awed that someone would even consider sailing onto the dock. Entering Boulder marina required a trip down the channel, a 180° turn around the end of the breakwater, and then to enter this particular sailboat's slip, required three 90° turns - one to the right, one to the left, and another one to the right into the slip.

The little yellow sailboat rounded the breakwater and I was able to make out the captain - a young man who clearly was completely in control, relaxed, and one with his boat (which I later found out was his parent's boat). There was very little wind that day (and even less inside the breakwater), but he nursed every whisper to bring the boat down the length of piers and through the three turns, after which he calmly stepped off the boat and flipped the dockline around the cleat. My hero. As a brand new sailor with two ASA courses under my belt, I hollered across the fairway and said, "I aspire to do that some day." He laughed.

Joel (l) and Eric (r)

A few months later I subbed for Tim as crew for some club races at one of the other marinas on the lake. We had signed up to crew when they were shorthanded, but that particular Saturday Tim was very sick and couldn't go. I had no idea what to expect, and was completely surprised when I stepped up to the Viper 640 sailboat to find this same young man was the jib handler on the boat. I'll spare you the agony that a 53 year old body experiences when pushed by a very fast boat and two young men whose combined ages were less than mine, but suffice it to say that I was again impressed by his skill.

As the years went on at the marina, we began to become friends. He eventually brought with him our now close friend Kacey and, later, a beautiful new wife, Emily. We developed a deep relationship with the kids we came to call The Three Musketeers, and it was one of the harder things about going cruising, that of leaving them behind.

My favorite photo of Em

Kacey (l) Joel (r)

 

So it was with a big smile this morning that I greeted the truck carrying their boat into our boatyard, where it would be launched for their voyage into cruising. Unlike us, who made the decision to cruise late in life, Joel had dreamed of sailing his boat to new places, and experiencing new things, for almost as long as he could remember. The opportunity presented itself and he grabbed it. Emily will join the adventure at the end of her school year.


For the last few years they have labored endlessly to ready Pascagoula Run for cruising. They replaced windows, replaced the headliner, added a bimini and dodger, beefed up the ground tackle, added a windlass, bought a dinghy. Emily sanded, painted, polished, completely rebuilt the counter in the galley and added the countless small touches that an artist does to make a boat a home. Ready or not (and they're never ready), Monday the boat was loaded on the truck and off she went.

It's a bit of closing a circle for me, this watching someone else realize a dream. It also makes me realize that, should we ever have to quit cruising, it will be these images that stay in my mind: the smiling faces of friends, the easy laughter at sundowners, the gleam of accomplishment in someone's eyes, the look of concern on a fellow cruiser's face as they help someone through a difficult moment. It's a permanent piece of my history now, that history of cruising friends, and one I'm abundantly pleased to call my own.

Dream and fantasy

Photo offered with permission from Michael Ahart. His article is worth reading.

Social media rumor has it that one of our favorite anchorages in FL has been rendered off limits to cruisers. Not directly. The anti-cruising anchoring law failed to pass…this time. Instead, they outlawed tying up a dinghy to get to shore, particularly where there was access to stores and services. The vast majority of the people affected by this new law will be American cruisers. But, because we live on boats, we have become just another group to be disenfranchised.  Somehow, we are not considered "true Americans" any more.

The excuse is getting rid of the derelict boats, but even those who wrote the law know it is just that, an excuse. Derelict boats are already against the law, just like letting a yard turn into jungle is against the law in most of the cities and townships where I have lived. The “fix” for those who ignore their lawn isn't tearing down every house in the neighborhood. But in Florida the “fix” for having poor people living on decrepit old boats is to chase every cruising boat away.

Clearly Floridians, at least some of them who have access to power, simply don't like people who don't live on land.

Ah well, so much for the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

There are 45 million Americans living below the poverty level. It is inevitable that some of them have found living on a decrepit old boat is one way they can keep even a marginal roof over their heads.

Many of those unsightly old boats are, as I have mentioned before, inhabited by veterans, many with a variety of mental and bodily health issues. That any are homeless at all should an embarrassment to the richest nation the planet has ever known.  That some of those homeless are war-damaged veterans should be a source of utter shame for every American, everywhere. Instead, laws are passed to simply chase them away, make them hide somewhere so the shame isn't right out front for everyone to see.

That has become the typical American “fix” for nearly every problem. Hide it, and then insist over and over that the problem simply doesn't exist until people think that is the truth. This will be the main story line of the just-started Presidential Campaign. It isn't a particularly elegant or intelligent way to deal with the world, but it appears to work in the short run. In the long run it leads to the downfall of nations and the end of civilizations.

One of the reasons I like living on a boat is that hiding from the world just isn't an option. There is no ignoring tides, currents, thunderstorms, high winds and big waves when one lives “out here”. Realistic assessments of the boat's conditions, the crews abilities, and the environment are daily responsibilities in a cruiser's life. There is a huge difference between living the dream and living a fantasy void of reality. The Dream can fill a life with purpose, adventure, learning, experience, and wisdom. Trying to live a fantasy devoid of reality will get one killed.

America is living in a fantasy void of reality. It will be the other main story line of the just-started Presidential Campaign.

We will be heading to Florida soon, along with a few thousand other cruisers. Part of my reality is that the welcome will be less than it was.  There is nothing I can do about that. We will be forced to skip what was a nice spot for a break and a provisioning run, even though we should have as much claim to American waters as any American who lives on land.  We may still stop there for a night or two.  Right in the middle of a major metropolis, it has a different kind of beauty than an isolated Cay in the Abacos. There is no provisioning in one of those Cays either, but we still enjoy spending time in them.

There are few people in those isolated places. Sometimes we are the only ones around for miles.  And yet they will be more welcoming than a city full of Americans.  The small Islands that do have residents will be more welcoming still.  Kind of a sad commentary given what kinds of things America likes to boast about...Land of Free, Home of the Brave, Lovers of Liberty, Touchstone of Human Rights, Land of Opportunity, yadda, yadda, yadda...

A fantasy void of reality.