More Thoughts

Today was a good day. Through barter I acquired a storm jib. Now I have a light wind jib, a medium wind jib and a storm jib. The mainsail is still in need of replacing but all things in their own time.

It was a warm day with little wind. I used this time to lay in all sail to dry them out. It's been cold and wet here for quite a while and I could smell the mould starting to set in. It felt good to see Avalon dressed up. I am looking so forward to getting her out in the Gulf. Soon.

The pain in my chest is becoming a constant thing. I don't know if it is psychosomatic or actual but I do know that I am getting weaker and slower. One flight of stairs is enough to get me out of breath. I walked close to two miles today and it was about all I could do. This is not so much frightening as it is sad.

I have spent a great deal of effort trying to stay in shape; walking every day, riding my bicycle for tens of miles, rowing and sailing my dinghy for miles, lifting, pushing, pulling, singing, performing. All these things take a lot of energy and burn calories like you would not believe but still my cholesterol levels are through the roof.

Lots of fruit and veggies, water by the gallon, the rare fast food, no sodas, no processed foods and still my veins are clogging up. All of this can't be just genetics. I can smell the Agent Orange sometimes. It's not a smell you can forget. It's like old mushrooms and rancid oil, a thick odour that clings to the pallet and the back of the throat.

The more the pain in my chest grows and my energy ebbs, the more I wonder if it's worth it to let the surgeons have their way with me. What am I getting saved for? Homelessness? Poverty? Starvation? Sure, at the moment I have one of my oldest and dearest dreams, living on a sailboat and planning a cruise around the Gulf and Caribbean, playing professional music with real pros. What good is that dream if I can't financially support it? What good is that dream If I can not physically live it?

I have a fantasy of telling the anaesthesiologist just before I go under not to wake me up. What better way to die, at the top of my form, at the most graceful I've ever been. Why wait until I'm a wasted hulk, rotting in the harbor waiting for the worms to finish the job and feed me to the silt?

This is not a suicide note. I have no intention of killing myself. Why deprive others of that pleasure? If I die at my own hands it will be through lack of planning, stupidity or hubris. It is my plan, my hope and my dream to sail the Atlantic Ocean, the Pacific Ocean and maybe even the Indian Ocean. There is a huge world out there to see and I plan to see it. Currently, however, I see no way to do that.

I want to see the coral reefs of the South Atlantic Islands before they bleach. I want to see the Southern Cross during a midnight watch. I want to feel the gentle embrace of mid-ocean swells and the rage of a driven sea. I want to live. No, let me rephrase that.....I want to LIVE! Really live. I want to live until I can't live any more. I want to die knowing that I have LIVED. That is how I have done it so far and I see no reason to change.

Sometimes I tell my audiences that I am a very fortunate man. I have lived out almost all of my dreams. I have known the love of good and beautiful women. I have raised and trained horses, dogs and children. I have explored most of the United states by motorcycle, car and rail. I have been an effective and respected warrior. Now I am living on a sailboat in Florida and am playing pro music. All these dreams come with a price. I pay it gladly.

The price is usually not being understood, not having a steady job, income or home. The price is not having, or allowing, anyone close. The price of being able to stand alone is that you stand alone. This doesn't mean I haven't had help along the way. That's where the love of good and beautiful women comes in. It just never lasts very long.

I'm not complaining. I have made my choices. I made these choices when I was a very young boy. This is my life and I will live it to the best of my ability. I have skills that many are jealous of and most disbelieve, and attitudes that will probably kill me. How can someone accumulate all those skills in one lifetime is the question I hear most when I recount my talents. Only when I'm drunk or high. When I'm sober I have enough sense to stay quiet about it. Why invite incredulity?

I have a few good friends and know a lot of good people. I am a wealthy man. If I leave this world soon I will leave it knowing that I have never done intentional harm to anyone, that I tried always to be the best person I could be, that I always paid my respects, honored my Mother and Father, protected those whom I could and fought those who would do otherwise. I will die knowing that I railed against the machine when I where I could, regardless of the disapproval of those close to me. I love placing myself in the path of those who would ride over us. I do so with with a spear in my hands and a fire in my belly. Did I say something about hubris earlier? How about being a warrior?

To all who know me....Thank You! Life is good.


No one gets out of here alive, so live it like ya mean it.