new plan

 

I have decided to make the run, to sail from Vanuatu to Darwin, Darwin to Cocos Keeling. . . to Madagascar, around the Cape, and then Home!  I could be home by May!

Wow am I scared though.  That is so so many miles, hard miles, alone miles, continuous miles, and things won't go well.  I can count on that.  And I'll have so little time in between.

But this is precisely the point.  It is a push, a trial; I will reach out and touch the veil.  When was the last time?  Perhaps leaving Port Townsend.  That was frightening.  The first trip solo was more exciting, as was Caroline's Pass.

I know I won't let myself stop.  The season could close out on me I suppose, but that won't be so bad.  But I must try, and I feel I have the time I need.  But I'll miss the Solomons, which I'll regret. They'll have to wait.  There will be so much I'm leaving behind.  Jason and Laurel—when will I see them again?  Impossible to tell.

 

Am I for real?  I hate when these decisions arise.  Why the push for home?  Why is that the goal?  What will happen once I arrive?

Why push for home? . . .Because I will be able to move forward with my other goals.  And what of Hong Kong?  That will have to wait until it happens.  Making money helps.  (I have a potential job there.)

I could arrive in SAfrica by late November.  Put the boat up.  Go home.  Then I could come back refreshed and cross the Atlantic.  Or, I could fly to Hong Kong and move Arnie's boat to Aus.  If so I have to wait to cross the Atlantic more then likely, but I"ll be cruising the Philippines, Indonesia, and whatnot.  Not bad.  But it will take some thought.

Otherwise I can be Home by May.  I can sell Araby in Charleston.  I can start researching more about steel boats.  Go to Nova Scotia to see the Wylo.  Get my captain's license, start delivering maybe.  It will be a scary time.  So many choices and possible paths.  I can't see it clearly at all.  I need money.

But I also need more experience: medical, teaching, writing, climbing. . . damn I have so much to do still.  How can I start getting it done?  Where?  The reality is I don't think I will find the answer sitting at anchor.  My answers come when I sail, when I work, when I accomplish.  I've wasted time.  I've become fat in spirit, weak in heart.   Time to trim the fat.  Time to step out once more, even if. . . especially if. . . I don't know where it all leads.

It is a risk.  I give up a lot.  A lot of places won't be the same if I ever make it back here again.  But it isn't the places and the sights and experiences that matter. . . it is the heart.  My heart isn't in it and therefore it isn't prime experience which is all I care for.  I've passed by many a'fine opportunity before today.  But my days I must keep riveted.  I must always follow the dream, which is a string of goals reaching out into darkness.  With each success comes just enough light to show the way to the next.  Sometimes.

 

Here we go.