the pirate and the desert

I grew up by the sea. When i was young i would sit by the shore and watch the sun dip when the eve began to peak. I’d always wanted to be a sailor, ok ok — a pirate. I wanted to be a pirate (and i am – land or sea a pirate is me!) What a wonderful way to live. On the ocean in a boat, with the sails full making you feel like you’re flying and dreaming at the same time. When i left college i found my life long best friend — who taught me to sail. I wont pussy foot and pretend i was great. I wasn’t i made mistakes, i’ve had boating jobs where there was one or two bad-eggs giving me jib for being slow or having to stop an think for a second — all i was doing was trying to learn. I kept at it. Because i wanted it so badly. I spent hours and hours hunched over charts, tearing my hair out but in the end i got my certificate because my friend was so patient with me. I think i spent 6 months just working on charts. Even to this day i practice my knots, i read and read and read, i write or research — i do what i can to keep the seafaring life a part of me.
 

When i moved to Texas my heart ached for my little piece of hidden beach in the sky far away in England some place. Thats the trouble with drifting. You find yourself leaving pieces of yourself behind. My sailing life was in England, but my wandering adventurers soul loved Texas, and still does.  When i was a little boy i wanted to be an American Indian riding out on the panhandle and watching the sunsets. I drift from dream to dream as i drift from country to country, or state to state.
Now that i’m temporarily in New England I sail as much as i can (surprisingly its not all that much because i live in the one place in New England that doesn’t have my kind of boating atmosphere). I’ve had a lot of boating jobs, but nothing lasts forever. You can’t really progress or live off a summer job. But i’ve tried it. Its hard not to be able to do everything you love everyday. So when those tough days come and i dream of the wind in my hair, the creaking planks and taught rope snaring… i look at my life and think about to all those places i’ve sailed to, all those drunken nights in random ports somewhere or i flick through my travel pictures to remember what i achieved ( or i dive into a good nautical book).

the pirate and the desert

I’m grateful for my teacher and even more so that he is my best friend even now. I’m thankful, whilst i may not be pursing the dream right now, that i had the chance to learn what i did, when i could and in a time when i needed it.
I’ve been lucky.