vindicate (verb) 1. to clear, as from an accusation, imputation, suspicion, or the like: to vindicate someone's honor.

Im Angry. That is what at least a dozen women have told me since that fateful day last November, when I sailed my last mission onto the docks at CCB. Just hours after landing, greatful to be alive, the City of Bridgeport came in and illegally siezed over a dozen vessels,  60' of dock, a dozen moorings, my floating boat house and my life's work that now sits in a pile rotting at Seaside Park and Captain's Cove. And that act has left me as my dear old departed great grandmother used to say, "Madder than a wet hen".

My family has been forced to endure my rage whenever the name of a certain Mayor or Governor is brought up. They have also had to deal with the financial hardship caused by the Democratic administration of Connecticut who not only killed our income, but has also jacked up all sorts of job killing taxes on our State residents. And while its hard enough to pay the bills without a job, its even harder to smile at the dinner table when you lost your job due to a criminal act at the hands of  criminal politicians while State and Local police, The USCG, The DEEP, The Courts and the US and State Legislatures stood idly by while the crime was taking place. And my two dogs, my cat and my Mom have been forced to endure my rage for the last year as a result.

Is that fair to them? No way. They did not do it to me. They did not cause it. In fact, Buxton has always climbed into to bed with me every night since, when I have come home and has never failed to greet me with a wagging tale and a loving gaze, even when my rage was at its worst. She lost HER chance to sail and swim and chase balls and run free because of the crimes committed against us. Yet her spirit has never faltered and her love has never ceased to amaze. Yet I am still the angry one.

My anger has so consumed my life that I was forced to seek out advice from a medical professional as I feared something was wrong with me medically. My tantrums ruined more than one night and many feared my heart would simply give up one day soon without intervention. I guess I believed them because I could feel how badly I felt with my anger and my loneliness was all but overwhelming as a result.

And so, one day earlier this summer as I recounted the story of how Connecticut screwed me, a lovely young woman informed me that our time had ended because she did not want to deal with an "angry" man like me. I was crushed to hear that not only was my business stolen and my life in ruins, my anger over it had ended yet another relationship. That was when I decided it was time to take action. The very next day I made an appointment to see a therapist to say good bye to CCB once and for all, and with that say good bye to my grief over its loss. But that is when things got most confusing.

I was told I had issues with my father's alcoholism and grief left over from losses and injuries suffered in grade school. I was told my anger was just depression turned inside out and that to cure it I had to get ok with how my family life had made me broken. I was told I had to go on medication to open new neuro-pathways to find recovery from my anger. Never once was it said, "Maybe your so mad because your job was taken, house foreclosed on, student loans defaulted on and the bastards who did it are running for re-election and using your talking points to publicize a boondoggle ferry to Pleasure Beach?" How do you get over anger, when the cause of your anger never goes away?

Faithfully every night I went to group meetings and every Saturday I attended therapy. I prayed and went to church asking God to heal me and adopted new slogans to aid in my reovery and help me find serenity. And when none of that was working to cure my anger over CCB, I was told maybe I needed to bring in the big guns, psychiatry.

And so yesterday I met with a clinincal licensed medical doctor about my anger and how I might become whole again. He asked me about my patterns of behavior- am I violent? Have I been arrested? Do I have angry thoughts of violence? Am I depressed? The answer to all of those questions was a most decided no. I have never struck another soul in anger ever, never raised my hand in violence to anyone. I get good sleep, eat healthy and excercise regularly. I love my Mom, never hurt my cat and the worst legal trouble I have ever had was a couple speeding tickets and ran a red light. He said, "Chris, you're not sick, you're just angry."

I was kind of surprised and wasnt quite sure what he meant so I asked him to explain. He said that if I smashed someone's windshield with a baseball bat after they cut me off in traffic or decided to join ISIS, that would be a sign that I had a problem, but hating a politician, well thats as American as apple pie. My difference is Im not enraged at Congress or the President (at least not greater than anyone else in the Country) , I am mad at a a few key officials in Connecticut who killed an effort to make our waters open to all and allow thousands of inner city kids a chance to sail. In short, if you smash the toaster because it talks to you, then your nuts, but if you hate the DEEP because they manufactured a violation at the political behest of a corrupt Mayor and Governor, well then you're just an angry American like the rest of us.

His advice to me was not to take medication, but to move. BRILLIANT!  He said, "Chris, your here because your family is here. If you hate it here, then you should live your life elsewhere." Certainly you can't arguewith that logic when 50% of the State of Connecticut wants to leave it.  It turns out I'm not crazy, I'm in good company. He said in his official medical opinion, "If I didn't have family here, I'd move. This State is miserable. When my Mother is no longer here, I will leave too. Get out of Connecticut and be happy"

When he said that, a light came on for me. Months of rage and frustration melted away and for the first time in years, I could see clearly. When I started CCB, I did so because I hated Connecticut. If I was stuck here, I thought at the time,  I might as well make it into something I could live with. But the reason I hated Connecticut so much then is the very reason why I started CCB and why it eventually failed. I guess I shouldn't be mad it didnt last, but rather thrilled that I got a chance to change so many lives and have such a great run. Nothing lasts forever and maybe it was destined to fail in a State that has lost so many other talented people and wonderful things like the Hartford Whalers, Frizbee Pie Company and Mark Twain (Yeah, even if we herald him now, he had his own trouble in this rat hole State back in the day, It never changes).

If things like hockey, pie and literature cant survive in this State, who was I to think I could change the archaic policy of giving our waterfront to the wealthy? Connecticut is a glacier of corruption, backwards thinking and inertia on a hell-bent slide into mediocrity. No amount of will power and positive thinking can stop that and while I wont say I was a fool to try, I will say I was a fool to let it eat me up when I failed.

For those who got caught up in my anger and frustration, like my Mom and my pets and my friends, I am truly sorry and hope someday you might forgive me. I guess I did take it out on the wrong people. But the people who do deserve it, well they wont talk to me anymore. But heres the good news. There is a special circle of hell saved for people who dissapoint puppies and children and break the public trust. And make no mistake Mayor, Governor, Senator, Commissioner and everyone else who subverted the law, violated the democratic process and otherwise rained on a pretty awesome parade by killing the Bridgeport Boat Basin, your going there faster than I can wish it.

And there's other good news. CCB is not dead and never will be. The spirit that helped us build a fleet of 50 and resurrect a landfill complete with bat boxes and chicken coops is not gone The idea that saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas day, and helped build "Jumbo" the Boat House can never be quashed. And the memories of 5000 smiling faces behind the tiller of a small sail boat will never be washed away.




CCB will rise again someday, somewhere. Its flag will fly again atop the main mast of a vessel on its way to Saint Somewhere as it dances across the waves. And my anger, while still here over what they did, my hope is that anger will fuel the rebirth of a new idea and and even grander mission afloat. And the best news for me, I am not broken or unloveable because of the scars of my battles. The wounds have yet to heal fully but I am OK and still in love with the idea that NO CHILD SHOULD BE LEFT ASHORE.



And to my MOM, my friends, my pets and my supporters, Thank you and I am sorry if I let you down.
God Bless You.
Love,
Capt Chris