Just for Fun: Photographs

~Photographs~ (copied from RA, thanx)

1. Do you like to be photographed or are you one of those who goes to great lengths to avoid being caught in front of a camera? ~Neither. I don't mind being in pictures, but I'm usually the one taking them

2. Do you carry photos in your wallet or purse? ~No. But the screensaver on my phone and on my Nook is a photo of our boat under sail.

3. Do you have photos on your desk at work or displayed in your home? What/who are in the photos? ~On my desk at work, I had one of Dan in the cockpit of our previous boat.

4. When is the last professional [photo] you had taken? ~ About 5 years ago I was in a photo op with the then Secretary of Interior - I suppose that counted as being taken by a professional. In about the same timeframe DH and I were interviewed for the local paper and photoed there.

5. What is the last photograph you took? ~ A set of portraits of folks I talked with for a forthcoming blog article. Before that, boringly, closeups of a rope-to-chain splice on our anchor.

Waves

Dan was born and grew up in southwest Kansas, son of a wheat farmer-stockman who was also born and grew up in southwest Kansas, as was *his* father, and so on. So what’s the trajectory that would lead him to become a sailor? It’s not like Kansas has a lot of seacoast to inspire his imagination from a young age…

I’ll leave the actual “how he got hooked on sailing” for another post, but here’s a thought. There’s a surprisingly similar mindset necessary for success and happiness on the farm or at sea. Sailing the ocean’s blue waves, and growing the amber waves of grain, both remind you of how small a single human is, set against the scale and power of nature. You must always be aware of the weather; its moods dictate what you can do on any day. The same calm patience that turns potential boredom into a meditative state applies whether riding a tractor back and forth plowing every inch of a field, or sailing at 5 knots toward a distant blue horizon. Being at sea far from help when something breaks means that your tool kit requires more than a cellphone and a checkbook; you need self-reliance, creative problem solving to jury-rig a fix far from a parts store. It’s the same way, on the farm. From Dan’s father’s house, you could not see another building except as a smudge on the horizon, so if a tractor broke in the middle of the field, you had a looooong walk if you couldn’t fix it yourself. Most of all, both life on the wheat fields and life at sea encourage independence and a love of solitude and wide horizons.

There, you see? Farm boy to sailor is not such a leap of faith after all!Waves

Dan was born and grew up in southwest Kansas, son of a wheat farmer-stockman who was also born and grew up in southwest Kansas, as was *his* father, and so on. So what’s the trajectory that would lead him to become a sailor? It’s not like Kansas has a lot of seacoast to inspire his imagination from a young age…

I’ll leave the actual “how he got hooked on sailing” for another post, but here’s a thought. There’s a surprisingly similar mindset necessary for success and happiness on the farm or at sea. Sailing the ocean’s blue waves, and growing the amber waves of grain, both remind you of how small a single human is, set against the scale and power of nature. You must always be aware of the weather; its moods dictate what you can do on any day. The same calm patience that turns potential boredom into a meditative state applies whether riding a tractor back and forth plowing every inch of a field, or sailing at 5 knots toward a distant blue horizon. Being at sea far from help when something breaks means that your tool kit requires more than a cellphone and a checkbook; you need self-reliance, creative problem solving to jury-rig a fix far from a parts store. It’s the same way, on the farm. From Dan’s father’s house, you could not see another building except as a smudge on the horizon, so if a tractor broke in the middle of the field, you had a looooong walk if you couldn’t fix it yourself. Most of all, both life on the wheat fields and life at sea encourage independence and a love of solitude and wide horizons.

There, you see? Farm boy to sailor is not such a leap of faith after all!

Slowly

"My boat reminds me to live slow. Life in the fast lane takes a heavy toll on all of us. We think we have no choice, but of course we do. Our sailboats remind us of the pleasure one can find in simple things. Experiencing the wind and water; talking; waltzing on the waves; delighting in seeing the unexpected like a porpoise, whale, or manatee; enjoying the trip; and throwing away the schedule." -- T.P. Donnelly

When Less Really IS More - the view from the outside, in

Here's another one that I also published in the Capital, under the title The View From the Outside In. One of the things we love about being in a boat is the escape from the modern jangle; a return to the original power and solitude of the sea. Technology is so insidious, though, I love it and hate it simultaneously - love it for its connectedness and efficiency, hate it, well, for the same exact reason, because sometimes I just need to get away!

One of the great things about the Annapolis boating scene is the interesting folks you meet who are passing through. In the last month we met one of those, Hinnerk, a German solo sailor supporting himself as a writer and photographer for a German sailing magazine. He was visiting the Chesapeake for a while on his way to sail the “Great Loop” – up the US East Coast, across through the Great Lakes, and down the Mississippi (or Tennessee/Tombigbee) to the Gulf Coast and around Florida, essentially making a circle around the eastern 1/3 of the U.S. We had wonderful conversations about our respective boating adventures, but the most interesting conversations came when we were seeing through his eyes: things that we here in the US take for granted that are done differently in Europe, and vice versa. Some of these were minor and of interest only to other boaters; the Coast Guard is more of a radio presence here than there – is that a good thing, or do you cease to pay attention when you hear them too often? Skills testing and licensing is required to operate a boat there, not here – is raising the bar a good thing, or does it keep too many people from appreciating the sport? Some were more universal: we stood at a bar one night mesmerized by the weather radar map showing intense storms and tornado warnings – apparently they don’t have many tornadoes in Germany. Or osprey, although there was some comment that I only partially caught, the rest was lost in the wind, about “fish-eagle.”He showed us some cool weighted line with a lead center (at least, ‘cool’ is a relative term, if you’re a boater you’d realize how lovely this very heavy line could be for anchoring) that we’d never heard about this side of the Atlantic. We suggested some great quiet anchorages to get wildlife photos for an article he was working on; and took him out in our dinghy to get some photos of the ELF classic boat race last Saturday.

I got new insights into simplicity from meeting this man. His boat was old, tiny (31 feet) and almost Spartan by the standards of the American market. We raise our anchor with the touch of a button on an electric windlass, he hoists his hand over hand, getting an upper body workout and a dose of Chesapeake Bay bottom muck as well. We move our dinghy with a 10-hp outboard engine, he uses oars. And yet, this small old simple sailboat had safely taken him around northern Europe, and across the Atlantic and from the Bahamas to Newfoundland. When he docked, he walked across the deck with unhurried but sure steps, a balance and confidence that came from time spent on this boat in all conditions.

So many people have written about the link between sailing and simplicity – how you have to pare down your possessions to the essentials and give up the race to keep up with the Joneses or acquire the latest technogadget or knickknack, in order to fit into the physical space and other constraints of life aboard. Yet if you’re not careful, the glossy magazines and sometimes the less-scrupulous boat brokers will convince you of just the opposite - that you can’t go to sea without a big new boat and a plethora of instruments and safety gadgets and comforts. You may have to work another 5 years to afford the money to buy a boat equipped with the stuff you ‘need.’ Meanwhile, here we were with someone who’d gone smaller, simpler, sooner. Perhaps he didn’t have the newest and shiniest boat, but he was already embarked on his adventure. In that context, watching the classic boats was doubly symbolic – these guys didn’t have electronics when they made their voyages either.

The most impressive thing, though, that I saw through outsider eyes was the difference between “nice to have” and “gotta have.” Or between “comfortable” and “pampered.” And wondered if those lines had been blurred here in the US. His boat had just the right amount of everything, with no excess. Liferaft? Yup, mandatory. Flat-screen TV? Nope, luxury. GPS and radio? Yes.Chartplotter? Well, despite glossy boat magazine ads to the contrary, not really, as long as alertness and seamanship are there. The end result of all this is safe and comfortable although not pampered. And, here’s the big one: keeping the distinction clear meant he could begin his trip sooner, while others were still working in offices to afford the boat and shiny new gear they thought they needed. Conditions are magnified, and contrasts are sharper, on a small boat in the ocean than in a large house on land, but really the basic idea is the same. Knowing the difference between want and need is really the secret to much happiness, lack of financial stress, and the path to many adventures.

===

Notes: Photos copyright 2011 Hinnerk Weiler, used by permission. If you can read German (or just want to look at the photos), Hinnerk’s website is here.

The link to the description of the May 21 “ELF Classic Yacht Race” that appeared in the Capital has expired, the text read: “Shortly after 8:30 am a train whistle will blow at the Eastport Yacht Club.
The skippers will row out to their waiting, crew ready yachts, once on deck,
caps doffed, anchors will be raised, sails set and the race across the bay
to the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum will begin! Upon arrival in St
Michaels, the yacht secured, skippers will row ashore, sign in at the
Tolchester Band Stand on the grounds of CBMM registering that yacht's
finish. Awards and festivities will follow that evening. The Classic Yacht
Restoration Guild, CYRG, owner of the 1888 Lawley Built Top Sail Cutter ELF
has recreated this race from an 1800's tradition in Marblehead, MA in which
ELF participated. This fundraising event is for the CBMM where ELF
homeports.”

ALIVE FOR FIVE!!!!!

(A post that has nothing whatsoever to do with living on a boat … or does it?)

Five years ago last week Dan came home from leading a sailing trip as a volunteer for the Naval Academy, four and a half days on a 44-foot sailboat running offshore 24/7 with a crew of 9 midshipmen, complaining that he was feeling tired and headachy. Um, really? Considering what you’ve been doing, that doesn’t seem so surprising, does it? But what was surprising was that after a couple of days of rest, that he felt worse instead of better. And a couple of days after that, found ourselves in the emergency room at Anne Arundel Medical Center. There was a tumor in his brain the size of an egg.

All over the internet and in magazines are articles and seminars and therapists and life coaches dedicated to “helping you find your passion.” There’s another way, although not one that I’d recommend. I found my passion instantly, a split second after our family doctor met us at the hospital, and honestly told us, “The prognosis is not good.” I knew what mattered most in my life, what I was proudest of, what I valued, what I was glad I had had the chance to experience, and what I’d miss the most.

In Dan’s case, there was surgery, radiation, rehab; a long and uncertain summer; and then getting back to work again, the delight of a routine of ordinary days. A big shout-out to Drs. Burke, Chawla, Gordon, and Graze and the staff at AAMC; and a deep appreciation for the tremendous support from our families, friends, and marina community. Last Sunday we celebrated five cancer-free years. We had a huge party and a five-foot sandwich from Subway that actually became a nine-foot sandwich because we had so many attendees. We lit a candle and took a moment to remember the names of those who are still fighting and those who we’ve lost; and donated $5 to cancer research for every person who attended; and laughed a lot and cried a little.

So what does all of this have to do with sailing or living on a boat? It’s that thing about knowing what your passion is, and doing it. It’s about making plans instead of excuses because you just never know. Excuses abound: we don’t have the money for a new boat … and maybe we should wait until the kids are out of grad school … our parents are getting older and might need us … and … and … and … Some of those reasons are even logical and practical. There’s always next year … until suddenly there isn’t. One sunny Satuday morning in May the door to our future almost slammed shut in our faces. Dan went from being a fit very healthy fifty-something to one of those people they whisper about in the hospital corridors. It’s not just sailing, of course, though that happens to be my particular thing. It’s whatever’s big and new and scary and important in your life, however you fill in the blank in the sentence that begins, “Someday I wish I could ___.” My friend RoseAnn claims that dreams like those have a shelf life. The problem is, the “do by” date on dreams isn’t stamped in any ink you can read.

Photo: Beam me up, Scotty - right to sickbay on the Starship Enterprise ... or at least, the then-brand-new Novalis machine at AAMC

Photo: surrounded by friends, celebrating life on the fifth anniversary of the original cancer surgery

(By the way, here’s a secret trick to figuring out your passion, a way that’s not quite so dramatic as my moment of clarity in the emergency room. Your passion is that thing that you’re doing, when you lose all track of time. It could be sailing or art or gardening – hopefully its something more productive than drinking beer – but it’s that thing you were doing when you finally take a break and look at the clock and say, “Wow! I can’t believe it’s 9:30 already! I was so absorbed, I even forgot to eat!” )

===The same article appeared on my Life Afloat blog===

===More photos are on our cruising blog===

The Book: What Makes Life Worth Living

I was fascinated by this NaBloPoMo challenge last year: "Describe the plot of the next book you want to read, even if the book doesn't exist yet." . The book I wanted to read was a crazy science fiction theme on time, change, and power featuring an over-the-hill superhero The Book: Time. For some reason that particular challenge stuck with me, and now I have another nonexistent book I want to read.

A couple of young well-respected scientists with exciting careers ahead of them, Gregory and Alyssa Rosen live in Denver and spend weekends skiing, backpacking or canoeing the mountains. They seem to have the perfect life, until a car crash on a snowy mountain road leaves her walking with the aid of a walker and robs him of 30 IQ points. Ironically, he had always said life wouldn't be worth living if he didn't have his mobility, and she had said anything was okay as long as she could learn new ideas and communicate them. After the crash, each is left with the thing they valued most, and compromised with the others' greatest fear. The tragedy has the power to shatter their marriage and their lives, but also to give them lessons in grace as they cope with their own losses and help and watch their spouse's struggle.

Never Lose Your Sense of Wonder

When I was a kid traveling by jet (one of the coolest things EVER for me) I was amazed to look at the adults around me. Most of them looked bored and had their noses buried in books or magazines, oblivious to the magical views around them.

"How can you do that?!!" I wanted to scream at them. "There's so much to look at out the window! Can't you save your book until tonight?" Right then, I promised myself I'd never never be one of them. Never pass up the opportunity to see magic in the world.

Dan and I went on a science trip that involved a raft trip down the entire length of the Grand Canyon. Yes, it involved some less-pleasant parts like standing watches all night to collect water samples, and we didn't get to travel at a leisurely pace, or stop for swimming or side hikes. It was still pretty darn spectacular. At one point on the trip, while we were floating downriver on the raft and gaping at the canyon walls, I looked at one of our colleagues, reading her paperback novel just as though she were on the subway. Huh? With all this magic around you? She explained that she'd done the trip so often that it was just boring routine for her. I'm reminded of my fourth-grade teacher, she of the many pungent proverbs. "Only boring people get bored," she'd remind us.

My childhood promise is one promise I've been able to keep. To this day, I take a window seat whenever possible. I spend most of the trip with my eyes glued to the window, and rarely read, watch the in-flight movie, or chat with my seatmates.

Here's the Monday morning commuter flight from St Croix to San Juan - and yeah, most of these folks just read their books; I took many photos like the one above.

Haiku on the Beach

(all except #9 written in a creative burst on Druif Beach, Aruba, 03/03/03. And yes, we really did witness the couple get engaged that evening just before sunset!)

1

Waves crash onto beach,

Then recede from rocky shores

Sounding like applause.

2

I have my riches

In waves trimmed with foam like lace,

Sprinkled with diamonds.

3

Clear aqua crystal,

Sculpted in delicate shapes --

Waves’ elegant art.

4

Pencil and paper --

My “Island Word Processor.”

Technology shunned.

5

Exquisite beauty.

No money, tremendous wealth.

Enjoying Nature.

6

Reading on the beach;

City stress so far away.

Sand between the pages.

7

I sit in the sand,

Not envied by any man.

Yet I have so much.

8

I witnessed a scene,

A man knelt to a woman,

Promises of love.

9

Aqua crystal waves

Arch, then shatter onto rocks,

Retreat, rise again.

The Ones Who Walk Away (for Dani)

Escaping the rat race to move to a tropical island. I think we’ve all dreamed of this.

I met her on the beach yesterday

And she had golden skin and golden hair.

She was playing with her son.

On the beach, on a work day.

And she had time to play in the sun with her son

Because she was one of The Ones Who Walk Away.

When she lived in Holland, she told me,

All her friends were good friends, and busy.

She couldn’t just call and say, “What are you doing this evening?”

It would be, “Let’s make plans for a week from Saturday.”

And when they did get together, all their cellphones were ringing,

And they only half paid attention to each other anyway,

Because their lives were busy.

And when she saw the sky, it was cold and gray.

She could have stayed, and been busy like her friends,

And lived like her friends, and made lots of money like her friends.

But she wanted something else, so she Walked Away.

She Walked Away from office cubicles, from rush hour, from dress clothes, from grayness, from noise, from busy-ness.

She packed very little, and came to this small island, of sun and sand,

Of saturated colors, and music.

She bought a small house in the hills just for the view.

She has little money, and sometimes that’s hard.

But she doesn’t need winter coats or comforters,

She wears old clothes and drives an old car.

She only works mornings, and spends the afternoons with her son.

On the beach, even on work days.

And we sat with our toes in the sand, the wind blowing our hair,

Drinking a beer, and watching the sunset.

She said I could find her here playing on the beach, almost any evening.

She told me that once her house was broken into, and they stole her BlackBerry.

But she never replaced it, because she didn’t need it anymore,

Since she had Walked Away.