The start
A rare date night in Pismo… Bad hair brought to you by “I’m getting out of the military and I can grow whatever I want”… obviously still in the awkward phase.
Now. The time is now. It should have been then, but I wasn't ready. I lacked the mental fortitude to put fingers to keys and words to screen. But now is now, and that's all I have, so I might as well get started. In order to get you, the reader, to now, I'll need to catch you up on the then, which has stretched over the last 18 months. Not a small task but a journey has been embarked on, and it's up to me as the pseudo architect of this mad dash to the briny blue to keep you, my fellow curious, intellectually satiated. Where to start. Where to start...
A break then, to ponder. Time to fuel the mind with espresso and puppy chow, that crack like mixture of chocolate and peanut butter that is probably the only reason Chex is still on store shelves. But I digress, and will do so quite a bit.
Going back a bit farther then 18 months... To those of you who know these next bits, stick with me for a moment. I grew up in a delightfully dirty little beach town in California known as Pismo Beach located in the middle of California on the aptly named, Central Coast. There's stories and history aplenty there, which may come later, but suffice to say, I grew up, in (surfing), on (sailing), and staring (glassy eyed) at this little slice of the pacific. At 18, off I went to the Coast Guard Academy, where I expeditiously learned some hard lessons none more important or difficult than discipline, but again, stories for another day. What is important is that while day dreaming behind invisible bars in this collegiate prison, I came across a blog, The Voyage of Swell, by Liz Clark. We were of an age, surfed, sailed, and had fever dreams of crossing oceans in search of waves. Except while I was preparing to do it aboard a Coast Guard Cutter she was refitting a classic 40 footer to set sail after graduation from UCSB. God, life felt unfair. I had failed to dream big enough or had the courage to make such dreams, most likely. (I also had zero discipline to accomplish that dream, but I couldn't know that at the time.) So we moved down our paths and eventually both ended up at sea.
I feel like the words are piling up, yet we haven't gotten very far. I'll try and be quick. A 5 year commitment after graduation seemed like a long stretch. But that was the dream, serve, out quick, sailboat, waves etc... Then life happened, as it so often does, and next thing you know I'm married, I love my job, and had developed this sticky thing called career goals. My dream of sailing was getting dashed on the rocks by my dream of commanding a ship. And my new wife, Brandy, love of my life, was not very keen on anything that involved the ocean, aside from sunsets over it; could not stomach being on a boat, literally, she got sea sick on the dock at the first boat show I took her too, and getting in the water to her meant instantaneous death by shark. I wish I were joking, but love is love, and obstacles are expected in the pursuit of dreams, it just became tragically obvious this was not going to happen on the five year timeline.
Fast forward 20 years, 2 Kids, 6 Ships, and 9 moves later, (future me will unpack that, there's some gems in there for sure) but the best part is, ever so slowly, my salty dream washed over Brandy like a babe at a baptismal font, and has awakened her spirit in its briny caress to the wonders of the sea. A dream for 1, became a dream for 2, then a dream for 4. We are family, single minded (depending on the day) at finding our adventure over watery horizons.
Ahhh, there it is. We are closer then ever to now, but not here yet. To get to now, I must tell you how we found the boat, not of our dreams, failed to buy one in Brazil, bought RHYTHM in Texas and sailed it 3 days later to the Exumas, spent our first month aboard as a family in the Bahamas, which started as an utter disaster, and eventually reached Annapolis, after a harrowing bout with the Gulf Stream, a fast moving low, a blown out steering system and 18ft seas. As sea stories go, it's a goodie, which means I don't even have to make anything up. It's a sailor thing; waves get bigger, winds get stronger, the adversity immense if not for the courageous crew... blah blah blah, this is all of those and none of them I swear!
