I wanted to write this a while ago, when the situation I'm about to describe actually was happening, but I thought it might somehow jinx it. So I saved it for now. Spoiler alert: the end of this story happened yesterday, and the boat is safe and sound in Portland, ME, but it got there without me on it. Here it is.
Note: I submitted this article for publication in Spinsheet's May 2012 issue. Re-reading it, it's no surprise that they couldn't use it. I've been too disconnected from the Chesapeake lately, and simply ran out of ideas. Frankly, what's going on at home with my mom has overtaken everything else at the moment, and that's where this article came from.
Kevin Walls got his trail name today. This is apparently something everyone does when through-hiking the Appalachian Trail. You can't give it to yourself, it must be earned. And only after a little while on the trail. For the next one thousand-nine hundred miles or so, he'll be known to his compatriots as 'Tower.' He's something like 6-foot-5, so it's appropriate. Apparently he also has an affinity for a hilltop fire tower that he came across as well, so I guess that makes sense.
We would never have found that hamam in the end had it not been for the guy that walked us there. We’d spent over an hour wandering the streets and the markets around Kardikoy, on the Asian side now because we heard the baths were cheaper (they are), and ended up going around in circles. Nobody spoke English, but I had the place written on a piece of paper and kept asking people anyway.
We didn’t really get very far on Thursday. We walked really far. The bus dropped us off at Taksim Square, and Nate assured us that the hotel was only 500 meters away, and ‘probably in that direction.’ So we started walking. I bought a simit , a circular-shaped bread covered in sesame seeds, which I soon discovered was ubiquitous all over the city.
Saturday, June 26, 2010: One forty-nine AM.
It’s one forty-nine in the morning. I write from the nav table of Truant, the 47’ Cabo Rico cutter that Mia and I are currently in the process of delivering from the Delaware Bay to Newport, Rhode Island. Between the full moon shining through the pilothouse window and the glow of my computer screen, there is enough light to write by.
Greetings and happy Friday! I'm taking this week to formally introduce the new magazine I am editing now, All at Sea Southeast.
It's somewhat of a sister magazine to All at Sea Caribbean, published by the same people and using the same style. It's a conglomeration of all things waterfront, covering the region from the mouth of the Chesapeake to east Texas, from sail, power, fishing, surfing and everything in between.
Note: Okay, at the bottom of this post is some audio I recorded with Matt, I think back in April last year. It would have been a few months before his departure. His Pearson 323 was docked one block away from Arcturus in Annapolis, at the little marina at the end of Burnside Street. I had been friends with him since the summer before when he returned from his double-Transatlantic.
Heartless Bastards baby! They are rocking my world right now.
Dane had an ‘afternoon with the White Stripes’ in the gym yesterday. He and I were debating the merits of Black Math, a few days prior, a song, which, I might argue, is about as hard as a rock and roll song can get. I listened to it several times out running with the dogs in the forest this week. Gets the juices flowing.
Kit Yarrow, author of Gen BuY: How Tweens, Teens and Twenty-Somethings Are Revolutionizing Retail.
Seven knots over the ground! Thanks to a north setting current, we’re now just off the northern limit of Georges Bank, again sailing through heavy fog. This morning after my 0200-0500 watch, my hair was wet enough so it appeared I’d just taken a shower…The boat is really starting to come together now. I put my tools away at noon today (the power tools anyway…).
Clint said this would happen on the boatride back from Åland. I was espousing how much I was looking forward to being back home in Dunderbo for several weeks. Making fires and drinking coffee and not living out of a suitcase or having to move anywhere. He said it. “Mate, in two weeks you’ll be itching to go somewhere new.”