Comments - Tuesday Evening - June 2nd

Sometimes, I look back at the past year, all the dreams, the dreaming and the opposite realities. Sometimes, I just get tired of the next trip to Lake City or the next part I can not find or simply not getting enough done.

When I was younger, I could work late most nights, get 3-4 hours sleep and ready to go for battle the following day. Well, those days are over. After a full day at work, I come home tired. Many times, I have to force myself in the morning or evening, to do a thing. "Work" falls into that category every morning at 5:45. I guess this comes from knowing the issues and frustration of getting the "Thing" accomplished rather than the adventure of exploration and learning new ground.

I have reminisced of the original trip to Lake City in September of 1974 and the feeling, which exists to this day, of rounding Hwy #61 by the State Park on the edge of Lake Pepin and seeing so many beautiful sailboats drifting along on a perfect weekday evening.

I do not claim to have a lifelong adventure with sailing. As a young Boy Scout in a small town I sent for plans from Boy's Life to make a twelve foot "Sailing Surfboard" from plywood and a canoe sail of 35 sqft. That dream evaporated when the local lumber yards did not have claim to 4x12' sheets of plywood. And a boy of eleven, without adult sponsorship? Well, on to the next dream. I still have those plans and probably the original magazine, in the garage. I have often wondered had Garfield or Arne or a neighbor placed their hand on my shoulder and given me ten minutes of help, I could have built that boat. Even at eleven.

So, from that, I guess the silenced drumbeats broke through the forest canopy that beautiful evening, now so very long ago. Also, I thought sailing could be a good activity for the six of us, at that time.

After three of six sailing lessons taught by Doug Blondell of Lake City, a school teacher who has tinkered with sailboats far longer than I could, I spotted a 21' Balboa at the harbor, purchased it and two of the lessons were on that very boat. Three years later, the Catalina 27 was ordered so we would have more room. Ordered in September, built in October, delivered in December - I did not realize how close I came to be one more creditor inline for my money as, the Dealership went bust not long after that.

So, for a few years, we sailed our "No Name" boat as a family.

Then, life threw a curve ball and I had to sell it.

Why the story? To set the stage that a year ago March, when I placed my hand on the bow, like scenes in the movie 2001, I felt something from a long time ago and in a few days, Marcia and I owned a new toy.

At first, it was a journey of (re) exploration. Honestly, to this day, I can not envision the Knappes and their use of the boat for twenty five years. I have tried, and those visions escape me totally. Nor, do I remember that much of my family so long ago. But I was surprised when my children, now grown men and women, had far different memories and reaction that I imagined they might.

After the process of destruction started, and last year getting all from the deck on up shipshape and setting sails in August, I started to feel something anew. Different. Far different.

Now, I feel finishing this project will not be done quickly. Yes, there will be more money invested, but, the larger factor is time. Lots of it too. To accomplish the wiring as I see it or the interior of African Mahogany. With 42 knobs, comes 42 drawers or doors to put them on. I ask "42? Where in blazes are they all?". But, from computerized Bills of Material and sketches, 42 is what I need. Not one less.

When this is finished, Marcia and I will have a thirty year old Catalina 27 like no other. It will be as safe as one that size can be. We will both be a bit crammed below, but, it will be a beautiful vessel, inside and out. With full galley, white and red lighting inside, carpeted and a head that does not and will not stink. Warm, cozy and inviting.

Now my dreams reflect our future. To bring it to the East Coast on the Chesapeake Bay. Two hundred miles by thirty, that body of water will be exciting to venture forth on. A body of water so vast, I am afraid and I am not ashamed to state just that. One has to respect what happens out there.

Then, if the Dream continues, one day venturing across the Atlantic to the Bahamas. Then, the Caribbean with its beautiful blue waters and delightful islands. And maybe one day, God Willing, through the canal and to the Galapagos to Hawaii and Polynesia. Of course, with a vessel larger than Empty Pockets and safe for a Big Pond.

We really like a Hallberg-Rassy as our next sailboat and like Marcia stated last year "Honey, I am home.". I would feel the same. What a world we could and would explore in something like that. Not just the obvious of land and islands and open ocean, but inside our new home. And inside our selves. One that floats. One that is confining. One that provides safety and dreams and fulfillment. One, like a mother, that would harbor us and protect us and give us a life we can not imagine today.

It is fascinating to feel the dreams I had when reading Boy's Life as a Scout. Or, the thrill of seeing large boats on Lake Pepin drifting along on a gorgeous fall evening. Or the Balboa 21 or the Catalina 27. Or now, the Dream of Empty Pockets and all it can be with our hard work.

And now, all that leads to and closes in on Empty Pockets. As Marcia puts it, "You saw something I did not. I saw a tired old boat, dark inside and needing alot of TLC. You saw a dream. One that is slowly being fulfilled.".

Yes, I dream of that day where I fold the lines on the deck and never return to winters ever again. Exploring places we know nothing of. Our meeting new people. Experiencing the fear and exhiliration and excitement of seeing nothing but water. No one, nothing, just quiet and sweet smells and water drifting past. And the prayers and fear when a storm rages about. Followed by motoring into a new safeharbor and mooring and after some cleaning up, enjoying seafood or steaks in a harborside restaurant someplace far away.

Of the quiet moments and the serenity of an island sunset. On a vessel that has become our next home, while both of us have health and the means and the vessel to enjoy it all.

And, we will set there, enjoying the serenity of being on water, happy to be alive as we nurture our dreams ...

Later ...