Traveling the Song Line

Tuesday. December 13

Today I celebrate two months of full-time status as a sea Gypsy. Sheer beauty and fear for the unknown in indeterminate ratio.

I am reminded of two bits of cinema. In Firefly, the pilot says, "This could get interesting." The captain asks him to define interesting. "Oh God, oh god, we're all gonna die?"

I'm a Blade Runner fan. There's a rooftop scene at the end when an android is dying and opts not to kill Harrison Ford, who hunts runaway androids. Rutger Hauer plays the android and gives an improvised speech about the wonders he has seen in his life that could be put on endless loop and just be an object lesson for all of us.

Kind of both of those. Tonight, it's the latter.

The seas have calmed, the winds are comfortable, and I am ghosting along under sail about 60 miles offshore, approaching Magdalena Bay where the grey whales come to have their calves. It's getting warmer, and I watched the sun go down over the horizon, hoping to catch the green flash. No luck. Then I turned around and watched the full golden moon come up above the water. There's enough wave motion to create facets on the sea, and the moonlight throws jewels out to create a path to itself. I think Van Gogh could probably do it justice and once again affirm his reputation as an absolute genius. I am left thinking about my sons, who sailed frequently with me in the early days, and wishing they could be here tonight to wax philosophical and sing some harmony together. This is a peaceful, beautiful, night sail, and I miss them.

A pretty nice way to start the evening.

I will say I have had a few "Oh sh*t" moments so far. Last night it was blowing and bouncy, and I ran the engine for a few minutes, and started wondering why the back of the boat was so low in the water that the exhaust was mostly underwater. Training makes you notice this kind of stuff and won't allow you to let it go. I moved some things off the back of the boat to a more central location when a light bulb went on in my head. I pulled the hatch off the bilge and it was full of water. That's when you are glad of little things like having a life raft, an EPIRB, and a big damned pump. Training kicked in and I resolved the issue, but I did spend some time contemplating how long I would be freezing my butt off in a little raft off a sparse stretch of coast in Baja. Thank you to all the teachers and problem solving role models who have been a part of my life, especially John Kretschmer. Someone reminded me that he said the first thing you do when boat equipment breaks is figure out why you don't need it in the first place. Good advise if you can make it fit.

This whole trip has been an amazing growth experience. I remember being scared half to death when I left, motoring out at night under the Golden Gate and spending a cold, dark night getting bashed around. Lots of opportunity to ask yourself what the hell am I doing here. Here I am now, 60 miles off a sparse shore where the only light pollution comes from the full moon. I am content and comfortable. No worries. Song Line has taught me well, and I have grown as a sailor and as a human being.

I am making a long nonstop run from Ensenada to Puerto Vallarta, somewhere around a thousand miles. I am just passing the second of my three "in case" stops without pausing. Two reasons. First, I want to get settled in for the holidays and my birthday next week. I'm ready to camp out for a while. And, as I have said repeatedly, I am getting really tired if being cold. Second, call it my proof of concept trip. Can I do a lengthy solo sail non-stop? That's what some of the trips I am contemplating will require. Mark Twain once said something along the lines of there are things you can only learn by swinging a cat by its tail. I like cats, and I know he was a humorist, but this may be a similar category. If it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen out there.

Four and a half days in, and doing fine so far. It's a steep learning curve, but I have always enjoyed that and I haven't been repeating mistakes so far. I just keep finding new ones. My comfort zone is expanded considerably, which is excellent. It's making those dreams approach reality, and letting me know I've done some very right things during preparation. Good to have real, viable options. This not-so-little engine maybe can, after all.

I almost always include song references in my posts, and tonight's is, "Me and the moon, stayin' up all night," as a smile for my son Will and our time together at concerts and on the water. Any group that marches off the stage with their bagpiper at the end of the concert and finishes their last number standing on the bar is doing something right. Extra points for any Gaelic Storm fans out there.