Found her standing on a beach in Second Peninsula in the late seventies. She was sound, but in need of some cosmetic work, and a new bowsprit. David Stevens, who designed and built her, gave me the courage to buy her, and she’s been mine since 1979. She’s taken me far, and saved my life, and I hers. She has many friends from the Grenadines to Newfoundland, and is a wonderful passage-maker, a willing racer, and a fine place to live.
It’s a lucky man who can find an obsession equal and opposite to his work. Sailing is the perfect way to clean the cluttered mind of all the leftovers from writing books and songs and plays and such. And it draws you back into the living planet, brings you close to things that are real and beyond argument.
She asks only that you pay attention, which is exactly what life asks. What we pay attention to is a question worth pondering. Something tells me, the answer to that is outside the self. We need to be looking out at the world. We need to watch the sky, feel the wind, notice the changing state of the sea, if we’re to carry the right sails, survive the storms, and make time in the easy reaches.