SV Windrifter42

When I was growing up my mother hung out our t-shirts in the sun where they were dried, refreshed and were made white. Even in the midst of a dark northern winter she hung them out; although they froze, they still were clean and white. The Caribbean sun is not like that up north. It does not gentle blow your clothes in a sunny breeze – it destroys them. Some go quietly slowly bleached out so you can’t remember that it was your favorite sports team or that great event you volunteered at so long ago. The words simply fade and a t-shirt you were once proud to wear among friends is now one you wear only to clean the boat. And eventually, one you use to actually clean the boat. Some fight until the end; holes appearing here and there and it seems they might just last just a bit, bit longer. Alas, like those that take the fade out route, these t-shirts too are destined for the rag heap with no amount of sewing (I think they use to call it darning) to save them. It is like your former life is slowly becoming dimmer in the hot sun – washed out to a faded memory of things that once were – as a new life afloat comes into focus.

Luckily, the islands are filled with shops willing to sell you new t-shirts/memories. These will not have the name of your home-town, the 10K race you ran or the local hockey team that no longer exists (go Worcester Ice Cats). They will instead say “Born to sail, forced to work,” “no problem-man,” or “I am a drinker with a sailing problem.”

I guess someday these too will fade out to things of the past; leaving us to wonder what our next t-shirts will say.