The Renaissance Begins

Written: 16 May
36,000 feet over the Atlantic, midway between Boston and Nova Scotia

Just departed Logan Airport in a nor’easter tempestuous enough to prompt my mother to ask if I ever got nervous flying in such weather. I don’t. In fact, I dig flying in almost any weather, no matter how bumpy (maybe that’s why I got my pilot’s license a few years ago). But this flight has already been different — and we’re just half an hour into it.

I’ve become a pretty jaded traveler over the years (OK, jaded about a lot more than just traveling, but let’s stay on-topic here). But over the course of the past hour or so, I’ve actually giggled a couple of times and I wear the smile of someone who is truly relaxed. Why? Just one step into the plane and I was already hearing that Irish lilt — and being spoken by a female speaker no less, which creates something so subtly intoxicating about the medium, no matter how mundane the message. A few moments later, upon taking my seat, I listened to the French being spoken in the row behind me. And it hit me: for the first time in more than 20 years I was flying to a different continent, to a place where English (or least American English) isn’t the primary language. I was headed to places where the provincialism engendered by having a large ocean on each side of our country is not possible; where different languages and different cultures and different ways of dealing with life are encountered every single moment, whether one likes it or not. And that’s kinda cool, in a humbling sorta way.

INTERRUPTION: Wow! The full moon just came into view between the starboard wing tip and the overcast below. Meanwhile the sun shines brightly off the port side. Can you tell I’m just a wee bit excited?!

Anyway, listening to the various languages being spoken in the terminal and on the plane, and realizing how long gone my abilities with French and German were, reminded me of the old joke:
Q: What do you call someone who speaks more than two languages?
A: A polyglot.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks two languages?
A: Bilingual.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks one language?
A: An American

I’m not knocking my homeland. I’m an American through-and-through. But sometimes our my-way-or-the-highway attitude is just plain embarrassing. And I’m excited about getting out of my comfort zone and into some situations where I can practice a little humility, learn new ways of seeing and expand my horizons just a bit further.

Opinion, Personal, Travel, Uncategorized,

A New Path


It’s been an interesting year since leaving gainful employment in San Diego. And in that time, there’s been a steady theme rolling through my head: a steady flow of cliches, famous sayings and all-too-real stories of life. You’ve heard ’em before:

“Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all.”
— Helen Keller

“Twenty years from now you will more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
— Mark Twain

“There is magic in boldness.”
— Goethe
(Never mind that research indicates that most of these platitudes are incorrectly attributed; they’re still good sentiments.)

Throw in images of other lives abruptly interrupted by tsunamis, earthquakes and things such as diagnoses of illnesses, then mix in a year of living in friends’ and sibling’s guest rooms and out of storage units while trying to figure out which career path to pursue, and you get a heady stew with an aroma that bubbles up long-dormant dreams from the subconscious.

So into this mindset comes an interesting Tuesday in early April. On the same day that I received an offer letter for an intriguing job in Anchorage, I received a solid offer on my not-listed-for-sale home, also in Anchorage. The couple who made the offer had seen the house back in the fall when it was listed but were waiting on the sale of their condo; well, that condo was now in contract and they just wanted to take a look and see if they still liked the place. At the same time all this was going on, I’d been in contact with my friends Boogie and Marlies, owners of the Swan 51 sailboat Star Chaser; I’d sailed aboard Star Chaser from St. Maarten to Newport, R.I., in May and had a thoroughly awesome time — and now, in 2011, my friends were going to be operating the Challenge 72 yacht, Polar Bear, and wanted to know if I’d like to crew for the season. Hoo boy…what to do?

I’ve had two big dreams in my life: Alaska and sailing away. And while I pondered during that week in April, I kept hearing those great speakers, kept seeing people whose lives were ripped apart by a wall of water they never saw coming, wondered what the hell was happening with the economy (and with the value of my home in particular) and realized: wait a second. The house offer, the sailing opportunity…the universe was offering me the chance to pursue that second dream. I had hoped to be able to do so while also keeping my house in Anchorage, but liquidating in this economy wasn’t a bad alternative. And in the course of the coming year, I could work on my writing a bit, right? (OK, a lot.)

So after the hardest decision of my life, I chose to take the plunge. In a whirlwind over the next month, I sold my home, my car and three-quarters of my belongings. I shipped the other quarter of my stuff to my folks’ place in Massachusetts and used my remaining Alaska Airlines miles to get a free ride to Boston (as opposed to driving six-plus days).

And later this afternoon I’ll board an Aer Lingus flight to Edinburgh, Scotland (with a stop in Dublin, Ireland). I’ll then take a train south to Newcastle, England, where I’ll join Boogie and Marlies and the yacht Polar Bear. We’ll set sail with a gaggle of guests next Sunday, May 22, for Scotland and points north, for a series of cruises to places I’ve always dreamed of exploring: the Shetland Islands, Norway and the Lofoten Islands, Jan Mayen Island (at about 71 degrees north latitude), Iceland and Greenland. Sailing, high-latitude summer, mountain fun…it’s all on the agenda. After that kind of a summer (with a return to New England in July for my buddy Tom McLaughlin’s wedding), we’ll head back south to Scotland and on to Ireland, Madeira and the Canary Islands, where we’ll take a month off in October and November, before prepping for the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers “race” across the pond to St. Lucia. At that point, it’ll be Christmastime with my folks back at Plum Island…and time for a next step, one that is still TBD at this point in time.

The bottom line (and here comes another cliche) is that I’d rather regret doing something than regret NOT doing something. So here we go. Stay tuned…

8 CommentsPersonal, Travel, Uncategorized,

We Love It!

An Anchorage limosine

People who live in Anchorage are used to being the butt of jokes made by those who consider themselves “real” Alaskans. You’ve heard the dings (“Anchorage isn’t Alaska…but you can see it from there”) and the derogatory nicknames (“Anchoragua”) and so on, but here’s the thing: Anchorage enables those who love it to have their cake and eat it too.

No, Anchorage is not the fulfillment of some Hollywood-cliche Alaskana — we residents (what ARE we called? Anchorites? Anchoraguans? Anchorage-ites?) don’t mush dogs from our log cabins to check the trapline — but not many of those who actually live out in the Bush have lives like that either (I don’t recall many mentions of snowmachines or Gore-Tex in “Call of the Wild,” folks). But by living here in Alaska’s version of the big city, we get to enjoy most of the perks of modern life (little things like, oh, medicine, income, culture and such) and still have a lot of the Alaska cliches like moose in the front yard, fresh salmon in the creeks and so on. Sure, there are some (let’s call them) interesting characters here in town, and the fact that it’s a city means Anchorage has some of the negative aspects of any other metropolis. But the bottom line is that Randy Newman was right when he sang “I love L.A.!” It’s just that he meant Los Anchorage, not some smog-choked, paved-over desert in SoCal.

So now as I prepare to hit the road for a spell, let me answer the question: “How do I love Anchorage? Let me count the ways…” with the following, VERY incomplete list in no particular order…

* The view from Flattop on a clear day: mountains from Iliamna through Redoubt, Spurr, Susitna and on to the great peaks of the Alaska Range: Foraker, Hunter and Denali; the lowlands of the Kenai Peninsula; the waters of Cook Inlet; the Chugach Mountains to the east
* Evening alpenglow on the Chugach
* Morning aplenglow on the Tordrillos
* Morning and evening alpenglow on Denali…120-ish miles away
* The honk of returning geese each April
* Seeing the flash of white backs as beluga whales cruise Cook Inlet
* Boarding the plane in Seattle
* That feeling as the plane emerges over the edge of the Chugach and descends steeply into the Anchorage Bowl…and you know you’re home
* Running into someone you know every time you pass through the airport…and also in SeaTac a lot of the time, too
* Awesome sushi at several different places, especially Ronnie’s and Peter’s Sushi Spot
* Moose’s Tooth pizza and beer
* First Tap concerts at the Moose’s Tooth
* Moose, bear (black and brown) and other assorted mega-fauna within city limits
* Seeing outdoor hockey rinks at pretty much every school and realizing that Anchorage is a hockey culture not unlike those in New England and the Upper Midwest…it’s just still developing
* Catching a salmon in the morning and then gathering a bushel of mountain blueberries in the afternoon — and enjoying them both on your dinner table that evening
* Seeing urban streams such as Campbell Creek and Chester Creek as the ice breaks up — and knowing that in a couple of months those creeks will be chock full of salmon
* The drive from town to Girdwood along Turnagain Arm on a sunny day
* Cross-country skiing under the lights at Kincaid Park
* Watching snowline creep down from the Summit of Sleeping Lady (Mt. Susitna) in the fall
* Termination dust in the Chugach on a sunny September day

Feel free to add your own faves. This post will be ongoing…

1 CommentUncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,