Its a new year and new days are coming. I'm looking back over the last year and realizing that I have been away from the keyboard for far too long. I've certainly thought about writing but the year past has had me in and out of touch with dry land, facing down some tough choices and waging a number of personal battles so I guess I have let this thing go for a bit too long.
My writing has always been an outlet for me. Whether its pure joy or frustration, the written word has always held some sort of therapeutic value for me and I just cant figure out why I lack the discipline to keep my words flowing. It certainly has hurt my search rankings here in Google land, but that's not why I do it. I guess I just haven't had that much to say for the last year so if you have missed me, I'm sorry. But if you haven't missed me, maybe you'd like to hear a bit about what I've been up to.
The year started, as you may have read, with a chemical addiction battle in my family. I won't dig too deep into the details, but that battle is winding down and I have managed to wrestle my way away from the hell that caused me for far too long.
I managed to put some distance between me and my alcoholic and sought my freedom on the open seas. First taking command of a 74' schooner in North Carolina and then serving as a deck hand educator on a 134' schooner out of Boston. The two voyages brought me up and down the Eastern Seaboard a few times and got me a close up and personal look at the ICW. From the bustling gentrified shores of Boston Harbor to the battle scarred streets of Baltimore to the Spanish moss strewn limbs of Georgia, I got some great photos, met some awesome people and developed a few stories of my own for my trouble. I also got a great new perspective of the world we live in and managed to put some distance between me and Bridgeport and the nightmare that is Connecticut.
By the time November rolled around, I had a few thousand miles of sea time under my belt and wandered my way back to my new home in North Carolina. Will it be my permanent home? Probably not. The economy is still quite barren and the cotton fields of Eastern North Carolina bear even less fruit than the snow clad hills of Connecticut. My thinking now is I need to make my way to a major city to develop a few new skills as a journalist and cook and maybe, just maybe, figure out a way off this unhappy little ride called the boating industry. She's not dead yet, but she is looking pretty green and her pulse lessens with every new season and every new regulation.
From anchoring restrictions in Florida, to property tax hoarding in Connecticut, to environmental disaster in the Chesapeake, to El Nino in the Pacific. All the bell weathers point to a slide into the abyss for an aging sailing instructor with a passion for writing and a need for a better life. So maybe this will be my last hurrah with boating in the New Year.
My next act I hope will yield me some stability in life and a way off the water. My propensity for creating food masterpieces has lead me to want of a career in the culinary arts. Too old and too broke to pin my hopes to a cooking school, I am instead trying to find my culinary chops on a vessel as a cook. I got the opportunity this past year to cook for my crews on a number of occasions and found the work to be most exciting and satisfying. From Biscuits on a Boat to Mariner Meatballs, I had some great help in the galley and thoroughly enjoyed my experiences.
Maybe the good Lord is pushing me to follow the path of fishes and loaves instead of parting the seas? Maybe he is just telling me to be patient and opportunity will make itself aware to me? Not quite sure, but the truth I have found is praise God, but row for the shore. But while rowing, make sure you keep your eyes open and your ears clear for the aids to navigation he puts before you. Where will my next port of call be? Who knows. When will my beacon beckon? Only God knows. So lets just wait and see shall we?
My writing has always been an outlet for me. Whether its pure joy or frustration, the written word has always held some sort of therapeutic value for me and I just cant figure out why I lack the discipline to keep my words flowing. It certainly has hurt my search rankings here in Google land, but that's not why I do it. I guess I just haven't had that much to say for the last year so if you have missed me, I'm sorry. But if you haven't missed me, maybe you'd like to hear a bit about what I've been up to.
The year started, as you may have read, with a chemical addiction battle in my family. I won't dig too deep into the details, but that battle is winding down and I have managed to wrestle my way away from the hell that caused me for far too long.
I managed to put some distance between me and my alcoholic and sought my freedom on the open seas. First taking command of a 74' schooner in North Carolina and then serving as a deck hand educator on a 134' schooner out of Boston. The two voyages brought me up and down the Eastern Seaboard a few times and got me a close up and personal look at the ICW. From the bustling gentrified shores of Boston Harbor to the battle scarred streets of Baltimore to the Spanish moss strewn limbs of Georgia, I got some great photos, met some awesome people and developed a few stories of my own for my trouble. I also got a great new perspective of the world we live in and managed to put some distance between me and Bridgeport and the nightmare that is Connecticut.
By the time November rolled around, I had a few thousand miles of sea time under my belt and wandered my way back to my new home in North Carolina. Will it be my permanent home? Probably not. The economy is still quite barren and the cotton fields of Eastern North Carolina bear even less fruit than the snow clad hills of Connecticut. My thinking now is I need to make my way to a major city to develop a few new skills as a journalist and cook and maybe, just maybe, figure out a way off this unhappy little ride called the boating industry. She's not dead yet, but she is looking pretty green and her pulse lessens with every new season and every new regulation.
From anchoring restrictions in Florida, to property tax hoarding in Connecticut, to environmental disaster in the Chesapeake, to El Nino in the Pacific. All the bell weathers point to a slide into the abyss for an aging sailing instructor with a passion for writing and a need for a better life. So maybe this will be my last hurrah with boating in the New Year.
My next act I hope will yield me some stability in life and a way off the water. My propensity for creating food masterpieces has lead me to want of a career in the culinary arts. Too old and too broke to pin my hopes to a cooking school, I am instead trying to find my culinary chops on a vessel as a cook. I got the opportunity this past year to cook for my crews on a number of occasions and found the work to be most exciting and satisfying. From Biscuits on a Boat to Mariner Meatballs, I had some great help in the galley and thoroughly enjoyed my experiences.
Maybe the good Lord is pushing me to follow the path of fishes and loaves instead of parting the seas? Maybe he is just telling me to be patient and opportunity will make itself aware to me? Not quite sure, but the truth I have found is praise God, but row for the shore. But while rowing, make sure you keep your eyes open and your ears clear for the aids to navigation he puts before you. Where will my next port of call be? Who knows. When will my beacon beckon? Only God knows. So lets just wait and see shall we?
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