Posted by: nativeiowan | May 1, 2016

The Sea Beckons

I was born n raised in Iowa.  was born and raised to physical adulthood some 2000 miles from the closest ocean. I never saw the briney blue until I was 23.

Explain to me then, why I am so drawn, attracted, driven to be seaborne?

I cannot explain it. Maybe someone out there can help me. Give me a hint, a clue as to the why, where, what for, of it all…

Editors note… Power just failed here at Vuda. My computer works. But all else has failed, ceased, stopped, or otherwise been disconnected. Lets hope it comes on soon. It’ll get hot n smelly without aircon. Willis farts a lot. Of course, I never fart…

Back to business…The “mother- mother ocean” syndrome is severe with me. As much as the sea repeals me, makes me ill, makes me frightened… As much as I hesitate to commit to the deep blue, as much as I long to be a “lubber”… I yearn for the briny blue.

I didn’t know it when I was young, but when I could still remember the sound of the womb, I was experiencing the sound of the sea. The dull sound shifting silence of a solitude filled session on the deep.

Sinbad, Blue Beard, Lief Ericsson, Columbus, Magellan, Mendanna, Laparous, Walter Raleigh, Shackleton, Ahab, Cook, Drake…

All are my idols. All are sailors I read of from youth. I may not have understood what I read but I understood the idea of setting sail, leaving sight of land and voyaging into the great deep unknown. What great, amazing, intrepid men they were…

Imagine, voyaging into the complete unknown… It’s hard to but try, try to imagine… leaving love and kin, hearth and home, familiar and filial… to board a lugger, a brig, a barge, and sailing into the unknown…

Today we are all pussies in comparison.

When I hit Fiji… January 13 1981, I was a foolish child. I knew shit-from-shinola but I figured it out. Eventually. I paid my journeyman dues. I learned a lot and still have much to learn. I may be fit to undertake the planned crossing, may be just, almost, but not quite. I don’t have enough hours in. Enough salt in my blood. But that’ll come in due course.

And thats why I got my intrepid compadres to help me gain my blue-water certification. My water-wings. I can not do it on my own.

So, after almost 60 years of existence, for the first time, I prepare to cross… Cross the blue-water. To sail from land prepared to not look back, setting a course for a shore some thousand or so miles off.

I’ll trust the charts and the crew members and, of course, the vessel. Without a trusty vessel and a good crew you are fucked from the start. You have no hope or no chance.

Neptune is my friend. I honour him and the myriad of other gods,great and small, of the briny blue. I shall make offers to the god, large and small. I shall stand watch at night, turn my face to the stars, tune my ears to the waves, and wait n watch and listen for a sign. An acknowledgement of my existence, of my presence. I want to become a seaman, a seafarer, a mariner… I need their approval…

And my chance is now…

And I smile…

A big arsed goofy type of smile…

More later…



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