Final Posting for Now

Dear Family and Friends:

We’ve come to the end of this sailing season.  It was long (seven months) this year because we wanted extra time to learn this boat and how best to sail it, to understand its various systems and how best to take care of it.  Mission accomplished.

Those of you who have been reading along know that we’ve had great moments and challenging ones.  And we’re so glad that many of you have taken a moment to respond to one or more of the 70+ entries.  Thank you.  You’re important to our life’s journeys.

* * * * *

We want to recognize and say thanks to some new folks, whom we would not have met without this time here in the islands.  We’re grateful for their welcome, interest, encouragement, help.  Among them:

Belongers

Tim Penn, owner of Penn’s Landing

Verna Penn-Moll – Tim’s sister, retired librarian, author, and an active leader in the Methodist Church

Shirley Chalwell – owner of the Laundromat and active in the Methodist Church

Eddie Wheatley – owner of Emile’s sports lounge and pizza parlor

Mohamed Yonnas – boat yard manager who oversaw the replacement of the keel

the good folks at East End Methodist Church

Zane of Zane’s Taxi Service

Islanders

Clive Allen, boat broker who helped us find Azure Wind

Helen and Jeanty Maurose, clergy couple pastors of East End Methodist Church

Geoffrey Williams, boat surveyor

John & Gwen Pitman, managers of the Green Iguana Hotel in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas

and the crew at Penns Landing Marina:  Justin Smit, Clay Rutledge, Duane Strawn, Rick Charron, Michel Picot & Linda Babin, Kalel James

Cruisers

Griff and Carol Williams (Syracuse NY)

Ray and Sandy McCoy (Pittsburgh, PA)
Jim and Deanna Chesson (Edenton, NC)

Jim and Carol Pehl (Boston, MA)

Anne Arey (Maine)

As Well As Our Guests

Bill and Cindy Davidson  (Dallas, Texas & Taos)

Mike and Deb Mahoney  (Tampa, Florida & Taos)

Peter and Donna Sword  (Greenville, North Carolina)

Ted and Rosy Walkenhorst  (Philadelphia, PA)

Wilson and Pam Gunn  (Washington, DC)

Pete Sr. and Pete Jr. (aka Re-Pete) Chamberlain  (Rockport and Dallas, TX)

Stephen and Beth Moll  (Houston, TX)

* * * * *

Through poems and short essays, we’ve been sharing bits of our experiences and reflecting on God’s lessons.  We have much more reflecting to do, but as we leave, here are a couple of thoughts:

Living on the water is so different from living on land.  Ten feet past your back door is water, everywhere.  You get used to the nearly constant movement under your feet.  So you learn to re-think what is solid and reliable: it’s not the ground under your feet but the boat on which you ride. 

Nature’s rhythms seem to be more easily followed, especially in comparison to the city: the sun comes up, you wake up; the sun goes down, time to sleep.

Living on the water means simple living: less stuff, less space, less food, less storage, fewer choices, just less.

And it’s learning to live slowly.  It takes longer to accomplish one thing (almost any “one” thing) from doing the laundry, to replacing a light bulb, to waxing the hull.  And, you move more slowly as you get in and out of the dinghy, or walk on the moving deck.  This is a big part of “island time” living. 

There is a dance that goes on between wind, water and land.  Sometimes it’s a ballet, other times it’s the Twist (my, that shows my age!).

The shoreline has been a wonderful place to witness God’s unfolding creation.   The shoreline changes, grows, shrinks, expands, recedes all the time.  It reminds us that God’s not done with forming this world we know and neither is our role in helping this marvelous undertaking.

Water is an amazing substance.  Not only for its life-sustaining gifts.  But just for its physics.  There’s the surface of the water and then there’s the movement below.  You can be sitting in a calm anchorage, boats are secured, no one is moving, and suddenly the boats begin to roll.  Then you remember: it must have been that ferry boat passing by ten minutes earlier and a mile or two away that caused the underwater waves to surface and roll your way.

God’s aquarium along the reefs is utterly amazing.  What a way to ponder this world’s beauty and diversity, and learn to roll with the tides and look at the creatures underneath!    

More will surely follow as the memories linger.

* * * * *

And among our best memories this season:

a Super Bowl Sunday Sail from Peter Island to Virgin Gorda Sound on one tack

a November Sail (downwind) from Gorda Sound to Fat Hogs Bay (home base) that was sheer joy

Learning to paddleboard in Benure’s Bay

Snorkeling, especially at Waterlemon Cay, and at the Caves on Norman Island

Living without a car, and subsequently hitchhiking and learning the bus system

In the USVI, Francis and Maho Bays on St. John (“Tahiti”)

In the BVI, Great Harbour on Peter Island

New friends and Methodist Pastor, Helen and Jeanty Maurose

The hammock on the bow

Replacing the keel on schedule!

Becoming a solid sailing team and still married!

Writing more poetry  (Marney)

Reading more books  (both)

Taking more pictures  (Dave)

Sharing these islands with our visiting friends

Losing about 20 pounds  (Dave)

Being welcomed by the Methodists and being introduced to some terrific people

* * * * *

Finally, it’s hard to explain why I was called to the water like this:

There was the joy I experienced with tastes of a slower pace (lake sailing in the 1990's: 6 miles an hour at the end-of-a-60 mile an hour work day).  I wanted to experience an extended period of this slower pace (although it certainly had its rushed moments).

There was the fascination of how a boat could be built with enough integrity to stay afloat and contain so many intricate and interconnected systems to keep it moving (sails, lines, rigging, electricity, electronics, plumbing, etc).

Then there was the opportunity to see nature, meet people, learn a new culture, etc. that living on a boat offered. 

And there was the hunch that the institution I served (the church) might benefit from a different perspective - thinking about its life with a view from the water.  I served in a time when the church was in need of some significant adjusting; its traditions were not connecting to the people.  In such a time, you don’t keep answering the same old questions, but you learn to ask new questions – questions that come from having a different perspective.  I have a hunch the same thing could be said about other institutions (from banking to medicine to education).  Those currently in power won’t see it that way, but those on the fringes are more open to a different perspective.

Thank you.

Fair Winds

Calm Seas

Dave and Marney

It isn’t that life ashore is distasteful to me.  But life at sea is better.  (Sir Francis Drake, 1540-1596, Vice-Admiral, English Sea Captain, Privateer, Navigator, Politician of the Elizabethan Era)

Any damn fool can navigate the world sober.  It takes a really good sailor to do it drunk.

(Sir Francis Chichester, 1901-1972, knighted by Queen Elizabeth II for becoming the first person to sail single-handed around the world by clipper route, and fastest (nine months and one day)

The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.  (William A Ward, 1921-1994, author and poet, published in a wide range of periodicals from Upper Room to Reader’s Digest, and regular contributor to the Ft. Worth Star Telegram’s “Pertinent Proverbs”)

Ideals are like stars: we never reach them, but like the mariners of the sea, we chart our course by them.  (Carl Schurz, 1829-1906, German revolutionary, American statesman, Civil War Union Army General, author, and first German-born American elected to the US Senate)

A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.  (Grace Hopper, 1906-1992, US Navy Rear Admiral, computer scientist, assigned to program the Mark I computer during WW II, and afterwards helped to write the COBOL language)

At sea, I learned how little a person needs, not how much.  (Robin Lee Graham, b. 1949, sailed around the world alone in 1965 as a teenager, author of Dove detailing his journey)

full moon

full moon

a night breeze.

water quietly lapping at the shore.

the islands are a dark silhouette

the color of charcoal

soft and full of shadows,

the water a slightly lighter

flatter shade of gray,

the beach a thin line of cream

between them.

half a dozen anchor lights

from neighboring boats

send muted shimmers of light

across the water’s surface.

overhead the skies are pale

luminescent, almost colorless,

with only a few tiny stars,

the passing clouds fluffy and white

as if it were broad daylight

instead of the middle of the night,

the whole landscape

looking rather like

an old black-and-white photograph,

all of it lit from above

by a shining circle of moon

that hangs in the sky

casting a brilliant yellow light.

I feel like I am the only person

awake to see it!

God and I have a secret.

what a great beauty the night is!

saturday 21 may

3:00 am

ordinary time 2016

Great Harbour, Peter Island

P.S.

some of the beaches here

host a “full moon party” each month

complete with live music and dancing

bonfires, conch fritters and plenty of beer.

we’ve never gone,

the real thing being

a vastly more commanding mystery
than any mortal celebration.

Making Our Lists

So…we’ve said goodbye to our last company, Stephen and Beth from Houston.  Had a lovely week, reprising some of our favorite places we found this year (Peter Island, Gorda Sound, Sandy Spit, West End, Benures Bay) and enjoyed the beaching and snorkeling and some paddleboarding…(especially the snorkeling on Norman Island).  All good.  They’ve headed home, and this little ditty came to mind:

Oh, you better watch out

            (always a good thing to do when you’re sailing)

You better not cry

            (I don’t know why not on some days – thinking about a keel accident)

You better not pout

            (pouting is like complaining – what good will it do?)

I’m telling you why…

Marney and Dave will soon be headed home

They’re making their lists

            (several of them – the inventory, chores still to do, what to pack, what to leave)

Checking them twice

            (at least twice a day!)

Gonna find out

            (you keep asking yourself, what are we forgetting?)

What ropes to splice

            (among other final tasks, we have to replace a reefing line for the main sail)

Marney and Dave will soon be headed home

Each morning now, we wake up to the lists over the electric panel and the cabin doors.  

But we also look around the walls to other reminders:

The beauty here….

One conch shell came from our children
when they attended the Full Moon beach party at Trellis Bay in November;
the other was found on Cow Wreck Bay, Anegada

Momentos and gifts

 

A miniature "Wilson" from the movie Castaway (Tom Hanks),
printed on a tennis ball (Wilson brand), and
given by good friend and colleague Wilson...Gunn!

Family back home…

 

This is the special calendar we lived by, with pics of our grandchildren

There's nothing like children's art, some quite impressive!

And here's Alice the Ant, a favorite character
in the Wasserman grandchildren bedtime stories

 Here's a view of the galley that fed us so well!

Once we’re home, we’ll be ruminating and making that list of God’s insights from this time here.  It has been such a gift…such fun…

We’ve a several things to do, but hope to write one more time from here…

Until then,

Fair winds

Calm seas

Dave

We try to remember:

A bad day sailing is 100 times better than a good day at work      -- Anonymous

We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.     -- Bertha Calloway (African-American community activist and historian from North Omaha, Nebraska…she’s written about the African American cowboy and, obviously knows something core about sailing)

shelling

shelling

pale peach blending to rose

a delicate lavender

brilliant burnt orange

dark pink

just a touch of canary yellow –

the bits of shell we found on the beach

are all the colors of the rainbow

there are whole ones too --

miniature conch shapes

(some speckled brown and white

others a tawny orange gold)

and snails (tiny black and white ones

and big sworly ones the size of a baby’s fist)

lots of Mexican hats

and those elongated white curls

the beaches here are mostly

fine white sand (all the shells having been

ground up in the surf!)

but Sandy Spit is a tiny paradise

complete with beach and palm tree

rocky ledges form its windward shore

while grainy sand piles up high on the lee side

hiding dozens of the sea’s small treasures

we swam ashore in azure waters

and walked the island,

waves crashing loudly against the rocks

and gulls crying overhead

and a Caribbean beat drifting faintly

from the radio on a boat nearby

we combed the shoreline

bending to rake slow fingers through the sand

or brush aside bits of discarded seaweed

wading along the rocky ledges

to spot what the sea left behind

at one windward corner

was a backwash pool behind the rocks

where the water was crystal clear

sparkling over smooth black and white stones

a bit of movement caught my eye

and reaching down

my hand found a pinkish brown snail

delicate and whole

with tiny baby teeth across its mouth

(to protect the creature who once lived inside)

I love shelling

(and this was the best yet!)

my mind goes free

it gives me such joy

I am at peace

sunday 15 may

the day of Pentecost
Sandy Spit, Jost van Dyke

Of Treasure Island and Norman Island

Of Treasure Island and Norman Island

Over the last several years, I have played “Treasure Hunt” with my grandchildren out in New Mexico.  I write a poem that has clues to find a treasure.  The grandchildren and I love this game.  It involves the whole family usually, although the adults weary of hiking up the hillside several times as the “pirates” search for the next clue.  Last year, I even made a wooden jigsaw puzzle with a map on it. 

The treasures found are candy and trinkets and most seem to love this 30 minute diversion to one vacation day that has taken me several hours to prepare.

Now all of this is born out of my own childhood and one of the first novels I ever read:  Treasure Island.   I suspect most of us have read this wonderful story written by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894).  As Wikipedia summarizes:  “The book is an adventure novel by Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson, narrating a tale of “buccaneers and buried gold". It was originally serialized in the children's magazine “Young Folks” between 1881 through 1882 under the title Treasure Island, or the mutiny of the Hispaniola, credited to the pseudonym "Captain George North".  Treasure Island is traditionally considered a coming-of-age story, and is noted for its atmosphere, characters, and action. It is also noted as a wry commentary on the ambiguity of morality—as seen in Long John Silver —unusual for children’s literature. It is one of the most frequently dramatized of all novels. Its influence is enormous on popular perception of pirates, including such elements as treasure maps marked with an "X", schooners, the Black Spot, tropical islands, and one-legged seamen bearing parrots on their shoulders.”   Just remembering the names of the main characters can be enough to bring back fond memories of our own childhoods:  Jim Hawkins, Dr. Livesey, Long John Silver, Captain Smollett, Billy Bones.

Lore has it that Stevenson had a particular island in mind when he wrote his novel.  Several islands have been suggested.  Stevenson never said.  But one of them, Norman Island in the BVI, is at the top of the list.  For good reason.  Again from Wikipedia:  “Norman Island has a documented history of pirate booty being stowed upon the island. In August 1750, a Spanish treasure galleon named Nuestra de Senora Guadalupe sought shelter from a storm on the North Carolina coast. The crew mutinied and the treasure, said to consist of (amongst other things) 55 chests of silver coins, was loaded into two bilanders (a small two-masted ship often used by privateers and pirates), one of which was manned by Owen Lloyd. The first vessel perished, but Lloyd escaped to St. Croix. After disposing of some of the money, he proceeded to Norman Island where the treasure was buried. Lloyd and his crew were later arrested in St. Eustatius, but word of the treasure spread, and residents of Tortola went to Norman Island and dug it up for themselves. Part of the booty was later recovered by Gilbert Fleming, Lieutenant-General of the Leeward Islands at the time, who travelled to Tortola with two companies of soldiers. Fleming persuaded Abraham Chalwill, the acting Lieutenant Governor of the British Virgin Islands (who had coincidentally lead the search for the treasure on Norman Island) to issue a proclamation whereby the treasure would be returned and the people who had dug it up would receive a one-third share as a reward.”

So…Norman Island sits on the southern group of islands in the BVI.  Tortola frames the northern side of the Sir Francis Drake Channel and then (from east to west) Ginger, Cooper, Salt, Peter and Norman Islands line the southern side of the channel.  It has a great harbor called the Bight, lots of hills and steep edges (not much in the way of sandy beaches)….

….but….

It has caves...where buried treasure might be!

Yesterday, we swam Treasure Point and its caves.  We took a swim in God’s aquarium and found treasure, but no doubloons.

I love the gift of imagination.  I love great stories that the human mind and heart tell.  And I love God’s imagination.  See for yourself:

I hope your day today is as wonderful as my yesterday!

Fair winds,

Calm seas

Dave