Belly of the Whale

The Wayward Treatise

All those little whispering I've had for years are finally taking shape. I have an idea, a rudimentary plan and I'm gong to wage everything (most everything) I have on it. This treatise is not a description of that plan - that has been written elsewhere and is still liquid - but a defense of it.

I love to travel, climb, sail, write, and teach. I'm trying to incorporate all of these into a lifestyle, a sustainable living that I can carry with me. This week I took the first step.
Tuesday morning I bought a cheap sloop. It is strong but unfinished. It is a boat that can grow with me and my plan. In a week or so I am moving to live in it in Port Townsend, WA. Port Townsend is an amazing old maritime town. The people I’ve met there have been very supporting and beneficent. Several folks have offered to help me (teach me to) rebuild the engine, rewire, ect. There is a lot to do and I’m stoked for each rung on the ladder. There are a few classes I want to take at the tech school and I will get whatever day work I can find around the boatyard.

I have no cell phone, but access to a pay phone. Right now, my address will be General Delivery, Port Townsend - but soon I will have a PO box. I reckon I will be there at least through mid Dec. I hope to spend a last Christmas at home before being away for some time. January, or perhaps later, I am going down to San Francisco to pick up my friend Brian who is going to be my travel partnerfor the next three + years. Our goal is a circumnavigation by sail.

It all starts here. I feel somewhat electric. This challenge dwarfs anything I have ever accomplished, tried, or conceived. Nothing I have ever fought through, endured, suffered, will compare to what I may find in the next few years. We may sink our ship - but if we do, I’ll come back, start working and saving money again - and do it all over. This is what I want, and I am willing to give everything for it.

I’ll never be a rich successful businessman; I can only hope to sustain. And it will take some serious creativity and certain good fortune. I can teach; I hope to write. I am going to learn mechanics; in time I will gain my captains liceanse; I've thought about charity work and expeditioning. There are so many ways - if only I can make enought of them to work so I can maintain and continue.

What I sacrifice is my closeness and connection to those I love. Indeed it has already long started. It hurts. I’ve been home weeks and no old friend has called (except Shannon, of course - thanks). Everyone leads different lives. I don’t fit in anywhere anymore not Missoula, not Columbia. It has been too long here. Amazing how fast some in Missoula have let go. Is friendship no more than utility? I hope not. I chose it; I left - but I still feel the loss, the disconnection to many whom I care for deeply.

Of course love should, and does, supercede utility. We can love spirit. Sometimes it doesn't feel so. Perhaps some relationships aren't true friendships - and I haven't distinguished. This point is not the issue to be pursued and I am not in such a cynical mood as all of that. It is that I feel my friendships (relationships) pulling back and I don't think it is entirely because of my absense. I feel, and fear, that no one understands. They think: He is exercising the romantic notions of privilege. He's naïve and does’t know what he's doing. He's avoiding responsibility and work. I could go on.

I don’t deny that much of this, except the last, is true. I am extraordinarily fortunate - I know it - everyone knows it. Bootsie raised me! So isn’t it my inherited responsibility to use what gifts I have, not squander them or fail to recognize them? There is a romantic tinge to the idea of “sailing around the world.” But this “idea” is mostly an idealization. True sailing is being alone, being isolated, being vulnerable; it is having nothing other than your own wit and cunning to stave off the inevitable dangers of the sea. In my experience, most who come from privilege are not nearly so willing to risk their mortality, their comforts, and aren’t nearly so accustomed to the daily simplicity and suffrage. It isn't that those criticisms aren't true, but they aren't the heart of the matter. I feel that people write me off because of my inherited privilege, disavowing the effort and vigor with which I live my life.

If I sound defensive - I am. I mourn being misunderstood. “Avoiding responsibility” - Lark! What I am attempting, for me, is the epitome of responsibility and effort. This is my highest good, the ultimate pathway and expression of who I am and what I have to offer. I would be selling out myself, and all of those who wished for the opportunities and privileges I have seen, if I were not to use them, or worse, deny - and worst of all, be ignorant of them. If you think I aim toward the hedonistic triumphs and experiences that lay along the path of travel - you entirely miss my point. (Not that these aren't great things!!! "Hedonism is the first step in becoming a mystic" - Hesse) I live for Blonny; she, not happiness, drives me - and all those who have supported me and NOT had my opportunities.

I am stepping into the black. It is true I don’t know what I am doing, specifically, in that I am hardly a sailor, hardly a mechanic or an electrician. But I do know that I must learn. I know exactly what I have to do. I know how to travel. Is learning mechanics beyond my capability, learning currents, gps, maritime law, trade? I’ve been working toward this my whole life. Everything I have ever done is a step nearer the center of a spiral (which has no center or end).
So, now I realize that this has become a treatise in defense of my path, my ideals, and myself. I love you all very, very much and am so thankful for all of the small gifts I have gleaned from your smiles, criticisms, and cheers. But I’ve never felt quite as alone as I do today. I am not sure why I write that - honesty, confession, full disclosure - Wendy would know! Perhaps I feel that my vulnerability will make this more real for you, as it does for me. I am really going away. I have kinda gone away many times before, many short excursions into darkness, but perhaps they were all preparatory. I have bought a home, a boat (for less than many/most new cars). My journal remains. The story of how I discovered and bought the boat is on there, but it will be behind this letter; it is titled, Port Townsend. My journal will perhaps be my only regular form of communication and connection. Please write a note for me in the “Comment” boxes above the entries if you ever do go to the site. (Thanks Megs.) But I am not going to have access, as far as I can tell, on my boat for a while.

I’ll cut off now. I am still in SC with my family. Give me a call. I’ll be packing and heading west in a week or so. Probably will head through Missoula if I can. I miss you all. I wish you my best.

Namaste