A standard daysail.
The boat is clean, and that’s all I want to say about it.
Between the weekend weather patterns, land-based obligations, and the general malaise of living in the present, sailing has been somewhat sparse. But greater than zero.
Continue Reading "Bear Cove"
As always, Sailing Fortuitous endeavors to investigate the mysterious, the unexplained, the peculiar, the indecipherable, the paranormal, the quasi-normal, the inscrutable, the anomalous, the inexplicable, the mystifying, the stupefying, the supernatural, the semi-natural, the eccentric, the outlandish, the atypical, the weird, the wild, the wondrous, the wysiwyg, the what now?, and the whimsical world of sailing.
Continue Reading "The Mystery Continues"
It’s that time of year: finishing up the lingering maintenance items and checking out ghost wrecks.
Continue Reading "Ghost Wreck"
We awoke on Sunday morning in a void.
Continue Reading "The Void"
I feel like I’ve been out of phase.
Continue Reading "Phase"
Time has no meaning. It’s impossible to tell how much of this is just that I’m getting older and every subsequent year is a diminishing percentage of my total time on-planet, and how much is the fact that the world is still bizarre, but it’s apparently Labor Day. The unofficial end of summer. I was…Continue Reading “Meditation”
I feel like I have only a vague sense of what the phrase “the human condition” means. I tried to look it up, but started getting answers like, “The human condition is everything,” or “Yeah, what is the human condition?” or “The act of asking this question is, in itself, the human condition.” I think I was less than two links away from an existential crisis, and nobody has time for that, so I gave up.
Continue Reading "The Human Condition"
Every weekend has been an endless loop of “hot, humid, and probably thunderstorms” with an occasional side dish of “dense smoke from western wildfires.” We finally decided to give up on the idea of waiting until the weekend. The forecast for Friday was clear skies, 75°F, 10kts of breeze, and a weirdly comfortable dew point of 55°F. There was no way that I could work through that.
Continue Reading "Silver Bay"