Everyone tells me the summer is flying by. I've been enjoying the warm days while not paying attention to how fast or slow things move. Meditating helps, walks on the beach help and the family and grandkids keep me moving. Thinking about time makes me miss what I consider my old self, the person I was with Dave alongside me and what I am now missing: trips on the boat this time of year, traversing the Cape Cod Canal, visiting friends in Menemsha, Woods Hole and New Bedford. Captain Dave was the center of it all. Not only for his stories, his wit, and his charisma, but also for his knowledge. My time on the boat has come to an abrupt halt. After spending all our time together, living onboard the Richard & Arnold for five months I've have begun a second year without him. Change comes to us all.
My heart goes out to the people living on the Gulf Coast, Puerto Rico, and the many islands that have been affected by the horrendous storms and flooding. To lose everything, relocate, start fresh is difficult. Hold tight to each other for nothing is as important as our loved ones. It is possible to begin anew and to make changes, big and small. Hold onto each other. Things come and go. We all know what is most important in our lives and it's not the things we accumulate, nor the homes we live in.
I was counting the number of times I've moved in my life, from place to place, home to home and I found eleven - not counting the Richard & Arnold for that would add infinite numbers of places where I have lived. We all know that change is inevitable in life. We win, we lose, we hold on. A person can use the change to make life better or to let the changes bury them. We choose our paths. I have always been a strong independent person, but I empathize with those who are not. I understand that we have varying amounts of internal strength and I'm not sure what the magic ingrediant is. I don't know where faith comes into the mix or how we attain it. I only know that the more you have, the easier our trials and tribulations. Hold on to faith. Faith in yourself, in each other, and in your Spirit God.
I'm still writing. That's my escape route. It's the place I go when I need a place where I am not me, before or after the death of my favorite captain. I enjoy bringing Chief James Crowley to life on the page. He's become some kind of weird part of me. Hard to describe my relationship to this fictional character.
I'm also working on another memoir, the story of our Arethusa. When I think of that time in our lives, many emotions are brought back to me. Many of the people who I now write about are no longer living, except in my mind. We had so much fun. It's worth remembering. The scary part didn't come until the last chapter. My friend Bobby G. was visiting me a couple of weeks ago. We talked about the boat and the trip we took from Provincetown heading for St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands on board our 45 ft sailboat, Arethusa. I told him that Dave always felt responsible for the lose. Bobby said to me, "Are you kidding, Dave saved our lives on that trip. If he hadn't rebuilt the stern before we left, the waves that curled over and into the cockpit would have broke the boat in half. And Dave knew how to slow the boat down when we were surfing down seas of forty feet. Dave brought us home." Bobby G and I reminisced about the voyage that ended three hundred miles off the coast of North Carolina when a Coast Guard Cutter took all four of us off the boat. I told Dave many times that he shouldn't feel guilty about the boat, he didn't sink it. But he said he shouldn't have taken us off shore in a forty-five foot boat. I wanted to make that journey. It was a risk that I was willing to take. It was a chance of a lifetime and there was no stopping me. Now, so many years later, I get the opportunity to relive happy times with Captain Dave and dear long lost friends.
