A thousand pardons to all my loyal fans who must be wondering where I have been. I will explain. First, I would like to say that there is no truth to the rumor that I was kidnapped by the new Progressive Majority on the City Council and held as a sex slave in a basement somewhere in Sam Hughes.
WARNING: The following paragraph contains religious references, and assumes a metaphysical reality. Hypersensitive secularists are advised to skip to the next paragraph.
Many see sailing as a hobby, or as a pastime for wealthy trust fund inebriants like Ted Kennedy. Actually, sailing is a form of worship, a type of saptah where the yin/yang, Shiva/Parvati, man/woman, skipper/boat duality dances with air and water â€“ the two elements necessary for human life. In this way, one can honor the mundane world while worshiping the Lord.
It was with this understanding of sailing, that I planned a trip to San Diego.
I have been captivated by the sailing concept since High School. I never had the wherewithal to pursue it until 1989, when I had some money and no job. I bought a boat, put it in the Sea of Cortez (Gulf of California), and learned to sail while doing a Jimmy Buffet impression â€“ good work if you can get it. After about ten months I returned to Tucson penniless, and was compelled to sell the boat to pay some back taxes â€“ but that is another story. Sailing changed back from a reality to a dream.
Fifteen years later, this last spring to be precise, I had an epiphany. I realized that I needed to be on the ocean under sail. Suddenly, everything started to make sense, order sprung from chaos, and I could see clearly. The way of the sail must be recovered from the dream state.
I contemplated this challenge, and all its possible approaches. I must say that I have responsibilities that preclude sailing over the horizon, and, as with anybody, I experience the greatest joy in fulfilling my duties. So, should I build a boat, buy a boat, how big? Big enough to sail over the horizon, or small enough to be pulled by my truck? I went â€˜round and â€˜round with these ideas (I even purchased construction plans), before deciding on the charter approach.
The charter route was the shortest course from Tucson to the Pacific, so I arranged to test-out of the basic certification, then take a two-day class for the next level, which would qualify me for boats up to thirty-two feet.
Arrangements were made, and on Friday, December 16, 2005, I split for the coast.
TO BE CONTINUED