Life Is Now

A friend and former coworker wrote the words that I’ve stolen for the title of this post. And she should know: a health situation while she and her husband are adventuring around the world put the nature of life and time into perspective for her.

It’s a perspective I share—albeit a step removed from what she went through. But I’m 52 and I’ve been dealing first-hand with how short life is since I was 19, and I got another dose of reality last week when I attended the funeral of a girl with who I grew up. It was a sad, tragic story, but just another in a long line of reality checks: my brother dies when he’s 16; a college friend with a husband and kids has an aneurysm and just doesn’t wake up one day; a dear friend from prep school and college, a truly superlative athlete and clean-living person, succumbs to cancer before she turned 50.

So life really is now. And I’m going to resume living mine. Of late I’ve been in kind of a holding pattern, wrestling with questions of what to do with the family home my brother and I co-own, and wrestling with a job search and questions about what I really want to do with my life. After a very positive discussion with my brother this week, I’ve decided to take the plunge and chase my dream.

I’m sailing south to the islands. For real. I’ve had two dreams in my life: one, to live in Alaska; and two, to load up the surfboards and sail away. I did the first (and miss Alaska dearly) and I’m about to go for the second.

The plan is as follows: sail down to Annapolis sometime in the next week to two weeks. I’d like to make it for the gathering of a sailing group of which I’m a member on Sept. 29, but if I don’t, oh well. But I do want to be in Naptown for the U.S. Sailboat Show the weekend of Oct. 6-7. I will once again help my friend with her booth at the show, and I’m also looking forward to seeing my Annapolis friends again. Saturday morning at the Boatyard, gang!

After the show concludes, I’ll hang around Annapolis for a bit, taking care of anything Further needs while I’m still in a place that has all possible resources. Then I’ll spend some time cruising south on the Chesapeake Bay, visiting some of the cool places I missed by not going with my friends Kathy and Renee when they cruised the bay around July 4.

And then I’ll wind up in Hampton, Va., for the last week of October. I’ll spend that week prepping along with 50 or more other sailboats getting ready to head offshore to the Caribbean as part of the Salty Dawg Rally. I currently plan to head to Antigua with the main bulk of the rally fleet, but I am thinking about heading to the British Virgin Islands with a splinter fleet. I definitely want to see the BVIs (I’ve never been there)…AND they have good surf there…AND folks say now is the time to go since they’re still rebuilding after the twin hurricanes last year and it’s still not overrun. But since they’re still rebuilding they don’t have all the infrastructure I might want…AND to get from the BVIs to the Leeward and Windward islands is an upwind slog…AND I’d really like to go spend some time in the French islands around Martinique. So maybe I’ll head to Antigua first, hang out in the eastern Caribbean for the winter and then hit the BVIs on the way north in the spring when it’s a downhill run from down south. Still pondering on this front…

But the point is: I’m going. And that’s where you come in: You can go too. Seriously. I will definitely need crew for any and all legs of this adventure. From Plum Island to Newburyport is a four-day run (a lot of which is motoring on the Delaware and Chesapeake bays if you’re reluctant). Then there’s the cruise down bay to Hampton: funky little towns and quiet creeks AFTER the summer bustle has receded. Wanna go offshore? It’s 10 days or so to Antigua; we’ll head east till we get past the Gulf Stream and then turn south. And for those who just want idyllic anchorages and rum drinks, you can get to the islands from the U.S. in one flight. Hell, from Providence to Martinique is a nonstop flight costing just $250 round-trip.

I’m serious about this last part: one of the reasons I bought Further (as opposed to another boat) is because it has two separate cabins, so even you married friends will have your own private cabin when you choose to come down to the islands and soak up the sun. I built the calendar page on Further’s site so you’ll be able to plan for where you might want to join us. And all I’ll ask you to do is bring some staples with you when you fly down from the first world (peanut butter and such).

Before anyone asks: No, I don’t have the money to do this. I’ve spent a good chunk of my retirement savings on Further and, before that, when I wasn’t working while I took care of my mom and dad. But “boldness has…power…in it,” as Goethe said so I’m taking the leap. And I’ll trust in the universe to provide once I take that leap.

Look, it’s entirely possible that I’ll get down there and, after a winter, decide I’m over it all (I’m definitely verklempt about a winter without hockey…). But it’s also possible that I’ll find I love the cruising life and go even further. Probably the reality will fall somewhere between those two extremes. But I was riding a motorcycle around the hills of New Hampshire a few days ago and I was looking at all the small hill farms and remembering back to when I daydreamed about living happily ever after with my preppy family in a place like that. Well, my life didn’t go that way and then a few days later I attended the funeral of a friend whose life went astray. My life has been absurdly blessed even without a “normal” life in stable, consistent location. But I realized that as nervous as I am about taking such a big leap, I really didn’t want to get to the end of my life and say to myself, “You know, I wish I’d sailed to the islands.” It’s the last really big item on my to-do list (there are tons of smaller bucket-list items). I’d much rather go for it, and if even if it sucks then when I’m at the end of my life I’ll be able to say, “Hey, it didn’t work out but at least I went for it.”

Because, say it with me: Life is now.

PS: There is one caveat to all of this: I continue to explore one potential job that is interesting enough to me that, if it works out and I get an offer, I would accept and resume my career for at least a few years. Don’t hate me for having a pragmatic side.

Uncategorized

Desperate Times Lead to Fun Times

Handplaning into the Plum Island shorebreak

Living all winter in Annapolis as I did meant I didn’t get to surf for a good eight months or so. Like: zero times. None. I had hoped to shoot down to Cape Hatteras for a few days of surfing and kiting, but when January’s cold snap killed my trusty, old Subaru with 212,000 miles on it, well, those plans kinda went down the drain.

As a result, along with my longing to sail on the ocean this summer was an equally strong longing to surf on the ocean once again. Of course, New England in August is not exactly a hotbed for waves, but I did manage to get out on a longboard for an hour just a few days after my return. Which, in the words of Carl Spackler, is nice.

Since then, however…nada. And just like when I was a younger man going crazy during the long, New England summer flat spell, I’ve been kinda jonesing for surf lately. Jonesing so much, in fact, that after the recent northeast winds had kicked up some lumpy bumps on the ocean resembling waves, I resorted to a truly desperate measure: I broke out the handplane I bought a few years ago and launched myself into some high-tide shorebreak.

Into the tube…

When I was younger and more supple, waves like yesterday’s would send me “body whomping”: I’d bodysurf the waves as they broke onto the shore, tumbling me ass over teakettle, sometimes onto bare sand. Seriously. How I never broke my neck surprises me to this day.

Yesterday’s waves weren’t nearly as big and gnarly as some I charged when I a kid. Still, some of them broke pretty hard on the beach and I was a little more wary than I use to be.

The handplane helped a bit, I think, but it was the swim fins I wore that really helped get me into waves. More important than just getting into the waves, the thrust the fins enabled me to launch me into the waves before they broke, so I could (at least try to) angle down the line a little, not unlike if I’d been surfing on a board.

…and how it ended up.

And one of the cool things about my handplane is that it has a GoPro mount on the nose. And with a camera securely in place on the board, I went for it, hoping to get some in-the-barrel video of the Plum Island shorebreak.

Well, it kinda-sorta worked. Mostly, I got my ass kicked, leaving me bouncing and swirling around ankle-deep water on the steep beach as the next wave bore down on my helpless self. And all the time I had a big, wide grin on my face, laughing like the little kid I could remember being.

The video came out not-so-great, but I did find a couple of screen grabs that look kinda cool. And I added this selfie video for kicks. So here it is: the view from inside the Plum Island shorebreak. Next time, c’mon out and join me.

Uncategorized

Concert (and Venue) Mini-Review

Dave Alvin and Jimmie Dale Gilmore
Ram’s Head On Stage, Annapolis
13 June 2018

Wow. What else would you expect from two legends? Guitar virtuoso Dave Alvin and Texas singer/songwriter Jimmie Dale Gilmore teamed up to make an album after 30 years of friendship. And, as it turned out, having found their musical roots in the same place(s) way back when.

The album, “Downey to Lubbock,” which is currently at the top of the blues charts AND at No. 41 on the country charts (prompting Alvin to wonder, “What kind of music do we play?”), is a wonderful pairing of skills, with Alvin’s guitar and deep voice setting the foundation for Gilmore’s airy vocals and harmonica counterpoint.

And last night’s show highlighted all that — and the storytelling skills of these two road warriors.

That it took place in such an intimate venue made it that much more amazing. For you friends in San Diego: I’ve seen both Alvin and Gilmore at the Belly Up and boy oh boy, did last night’s show point up just how shitty that venue really is. Yes, it’s a great location and a great vibe, and I loved being able to walk there (which I can do for Ram’s Head shows too, which is nice) but let’s be honest: the acoustics flat out suck. You know this. And even worse, no one in any Belly Up crowd EVER shuts the fuck up, so you can’t hear the music you paid to experience.

None of that at the Ram’s Head. It’s a seated venue with waitstaff, so there’s an order to the place. As a result, people are focused on the performers on stage so there’s none of the din. And the physical attributes of the room (unlike the quonset hut that is the Belly Up) make the sound warm and rich. That said, the vocals could have been mixed a bit more prominently last night, but that just meant a lot more of Alvin’s precise, screaming guitar — an okay trade-off in my book.

Alvin and Gilmore continue their tour throughout the U.S., even stopping in at the Belly Up in late July. Check the schedule and if there’s a show near you, don’t miss it. And if you’re ever in Annapolis and the Ram’s Head is hosting a show you might like, don’t hesitate to enjoy this wonderful little venue.

Uncategorized