Missing my crew...

Missing the crew...

"Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm." -Publilius Syrus





Hello from St. Kitts my loyal readers. I'm sitting here in my bunk in the port aft stateroom (the room in the back on the left side of the boat) and I'm feeling pretty content. You have to marvel at the internet. Thanks to the Skype program I have managed to talk to many of the important people in my life tonight and let me assure you, it was a welcome respite. I have to be honest. I'm REALLY missing my friends. I get a lot of e-mails from random people who read this blog asking things like how did you leave your job or how could you give up your house. The answer is simple. None of that means shit. It can all be replaced. The right question to ask is...how did you leave behind the amazing group of friends that you had. That is something I struggle with everyday. There is a quote that sums up how I feel at the moment, please allow me to share it with you.





"Riches unshared are a prison." - C. Wayne Owens





How much richer could I be at the moment? Every day gets better. Every night I am rocked to sleep by the gentle swells of the Caribbean and every morning I wake to a sleepy sun stretching out over the Eastern horizon. The weather is perfect and the islands keep getting better. Every day I enjoy near perfect weather coupled by the major choice of what to do...have breakfast on the boat or go to shore. Hmmm... Should I read in my bunk or hang my hammock off the rear of the boat? Let me check the wind. Oh. Perfect. Let me set up my hammock and read for an hour before I doze off. Every day...some new amazing experience. But who do I share it with? I take photos yes. I post them on this blog. Do they do these things justice? I doubt it. That quote is so true. I have the riches but can't share them with the people who mean the most to me.





Today I was really having a withdrawal from home. I missed my friends. My family. My old job. Everything that I was comfortable in. Things I knew were SAFE. We drove around the island. Saw so many things that I could type pages about and this is only one island. Every place holds so much beauty and history. But who to share it with? I can't help but wonder if people really read what I write. For the past few weeks I have felt like my creativity for writing has been stumped and I wasn't sure why. I think I figured it out today. I made such a dramatic change in my life. One that was so swift and the finality of it would have probably made most people insane. I'm holding things together. Even if I have a few weak moments. I needed some Americana today. I ate some pizza from a Dominos. I called a lot of my friends and family. I e-mailed many people. I'm ok with the weak moments. I think they are necessary to help a person transcend.



What's next? No telling. I love the uncertainity of tomorrow. I think that the majority of people who are even taking the time to read this know me well enough. I really don't care what most people think but they also know me well enough to know that I worry and think about them every day. People ask all the time, what is a typical day for you. A typical day starts around 8 am (fuck you Jeffho, I really have been getting up that early) and it's either a combo of me working on the boat to fix something that Brian has broken or we are headed into town for some really important function like buying ice. Since he is pretty much done by noon he likes getting an early start. It's funny but I swear I haven't really been chasing ass. Most days I'm content to work on the boat, get a quick dive in before dinner, eat, then read til I crash out. Call me crazy but driving around these islands and seeing signs every couple miles that say things like Stop HIV or Let's Cure AIDS Together doesn't exactly put you in a mood for meeting the opposite sex. Bottom line is this. I am going through some phase that is telling me that going back will be easier but I refuse to give in to those impulses. I'm going to stick things out. I believe in my ability to make tomorrow successful. Brian and I are very different, he is twice my age. I miss Taco Salads, sirens and the burn. The jokes, line up and questions about the rigs. Hold em til 10 am the next morning at my house or pool parties at random houses. The lake and after hours bbq's at my place. Wassabi to Fridays loop followed by drunken hot tub action and Clovis PD at my casa. Late night California burritos from Arsenios and Blue Moon on tap. The Deer in costume drinking Jager from a pink cup and random people we don't know showing up to party. I miss hearing the tone, sliding the pole and knowing we are heading to a worker. Playing loud rock music running Code 3 70 mph through downtown in an 80,000 lb ladder truck just so we could throw a ladder and cut a hole in some strange roof inside of 3 minutes of arriving on scene. It's tough man. Now (even at this moment) all I worry about is if the anchor will hold in this blow. 30 knots of wind on the nose, will she drag. Since Brian insisted on this fucked up spot, will we drag into the smaller catamaran that is less than 100' behind us?

I hope everyone is well and I want you all to know I think of you often. I wish you could all share every experience with me. Please keep in touch and remember...

"A writer writes not because he is educated but because he is driven by the need to communicate. Behind the need to communicate is the need to share. Behind the need to share is the need to be understood." - Leo Rosten