Why subscribe?
I never considered myself a good writer, In fact, I hated writing assignments in school and would cringe each time an essay was due. Always found it difficult to get my thoughts on paper, Nothing made sense, never got encouragement, and what the heck was subjugating a verb? I had no idea and I didn't care. I barely got through all my English writing classes and good riddance. Then a funny thing happened. I grew up and became an adult. I really had no choice, does anyone of us?
My reading library slowly expanded. I was enjoying it. I stumbled on the books of a well-known mariner named Tristan Jones and his life aboard the 21 ft. Sea Dart. He's a hell of a sailor and storyteller. Beyond that, it was the art of solo sailing that gave me a lot of time to think. Also made me realize thoughts are useless if you forget them in 15 minutes or less. Putting pen to paper ideas get recorded. Like a computer hard drive that doesn't crash. Journaling helped me organize my thoughts. Gave me a framework or structure. Point A leads to point B then point C but sometimes I like to start with C and then go to A. Why not? It just needs to make sense. This might be something you may want to try. It could open new doors to a part of you you never knew existed.
With that in mind, I would like to take you to the beginning, the moment of conception.
This is what you would miss out on if you don't subscribe to the Sailing Saga of the Sea Marie:
The year was 2015 and all was well living in our little house on the west side of Cleveland. with my wife, Colleen, and our newly found stray kitten, Mickey.
Colleen was having some health issues when I decided on early retirement from Seidman Cancer Center as a clinical research nurse to care for her. Sadly, in September of that year, she passed away. I was alone with only Mickey to look after. We have 2 children, Greg and Jennifer, who were grown, married, and had wonderful families of their own. I was getting comfortable living alone in our house. They both lived nearby and would help out if I needed it.
My brother. Rich worked on getting our parent’s house sold to a developer in Tremont and that gave me a few bucks in the bank account. I paid off a number of bills and I had plenty of time on my hands.
Later that fall, I was cleaning the dishes at the sink looking out the open window at our 22-foot sailboat sitting on her trailer I had purchased back in 1988. All neatly wrapped in her blue canvas covering as she had been for several years. I placed the last dish in the strainer when I heard a voice softly in the wind call my name. There was no one outside and I shook it off, just the wind or the branches of the maple tree I planted many years ago rubbing together above the roof. Then I heard it again. There is no real explanation, just an old man with an aging brain. But I looked again at that boat wrapped in canvas staring at me. Could it be that the old girl was trying to tell me something?
The days were getting shorter and small flocks of dark-eyed juncos were feeding under the birdfeeder. Winter would soon be here. Settling down on the couch with a cup of hot herbal tea I began to scroll through the laptop at what the world wide web had to offer. Deep in the back of my mind, a small seed that had been planted was now breaking thru to my consciousness.
“Google, search sailing”.
Christopher Cross's song “Sailing” came up and I listened.
“It's not far to never-never land
No reason to pretend
And if the wind is right you can find the joy
Of innocence again
Oh, the canvas can do miracles
Just you wait and see, believe me“
It’s just a stupid dream, or was it?
If you enjoyed reading this intro then please subscribe. I only need your email address and nothing else. If you like you can direct message me with your email and I will put you on my Free subscription list. You'll get a new story every few days leading up to the start of my personal journey in your email folder.
Mickey and I are looking forward to telling you all about our voyage.
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