“Trim my sails to greet the breaking morning, past the headlands to the open rolling sea

And it comes to me

I have never been so free

As when I’m listening to the song of the sea”

-Dan Fogelberg, Song of the Sea

I went to a Port Isabel Planning and Zoning Committee meeting last night with Island Time Jim and Janice. On the way in we were talking about one of the items.

Doug (Wind Fit) was going to comment on the Cities general lack of attention to the Tow Boat US operation being run out of a residential area next door to Wind Fit and Olivia. It has become a major sore point with Doug, who prizes his solitude and peace within his heavily forested compound next door. He becomes irate with ‘smogboat’ every time he fires up the decrepit vessels, which belch dense clouds of smoke, and discharge never ending sheens of soot and oil on the water, not to mention the wake the operator throws with apparent impunity, so far immune to any City ordinance (even though they are there, just un-enforced).

I have had my own history with the owner of the smogboats.

In 2003 we suffered an accidental fire which destroyed everything we owned, including our land yacht, a 36’ motor home. Not to rehash an old tragedy, we found ourselves under threat of lawsuit by the smogboat owner, who we were leasing the property from. I’ll spare the gory details, but suffice to say that we were in the right, and a bitter dispute arose….resulting in all of us here at Olivia’s mooring carrying around a lot of anger for many years against this pathetic little fella.

For the past several years as those of you who know us from this journey are aware, we have participated in the lighted Christmas parade….and so has smogboat. I have viewed the event as a sort of time of laissez-faire, and I would push my disdain for this guy aside for that one particular event. Following this year however, I made a stalwart resolution to just stop being angry at the guy. Not that I like him….no far from it. It’s hard to elicit a response as strong as  “like” or “hate” towards someone you have no respect for, so I simply let my anger go over this, and offered an olive branch by no longer actively walking around pissed off with the guy. Anyway, I do know the way karma works too…..

Whatcha do comes back around to you.

I told this to Island Time Jim on the way in to the meeting. Said I just didn’t have enough anger to go around any more….not at this stage of my life. I’m just getting too old to be pissed off (unless it’s quite necessary of course).

Every year around about this time I allow myself the luxury of personal reflection. This year is no different. With very close to another years worth of mileage under my keel, I turn around and look back at all of the things that go together to create the lights and the brightly painted ponies of this crazy merry go round ride.

First, I am most thankful for my family, who put up with the nonsense and madness on a daily basis that define the vessel that is me. I am left quiet and contemplative by them.

Then there are those who make up the many pages of the story.

I am thankful and humbled by my friendship with people who will leave indelible marks on my soul regardless of where I travel.

Among these are the commander, whom I have crossed a few miles of open water with, somebody who I would trust in a full gale, either on or off the water. There’s Captain Sean, who I’d like to be just like if I ever grow up – my admiration extends to his youth and his commitment to travel from one adventure to the next, unencumbered by the mandates of society. There’s Island Time Jim and Janice, both only a couple of steps beyond on the journey, mentors of both the sea and life, people one feels comfortable to just be around and say nothing to…which is my highest compliment to friends.

I stop and think of Gary, and Roach of Sol Mate, friends and brothers who took me to the pinnacle of my fishing  career, an honor and a debt that could never be repaid. There's Doug of Wind Fit, a true sailing fool. And of course there’s Art, Valerie, Olivia and August. I see them in every line and loving restoration to the boat each and every time I am there. Far from buying just a boat, we became lifelong friends with this amazing family.

There’s those who read the pages of the story and share in the steps of the strange dance that it weaves in and out of time. They too leave their mark on the sails of my ship, in the logbook of my life.

I’m thankful for Don and Donna, Lee and his hairless cat ET, Littleman and Emily, just a few of the friends who drop in and see what’s going on here. And there’s our distant cruising friends -  Magna Carter, Holding Pattern, Storyville and Sereia all journeys that we follow, take part in and live vicariously, journeys that encompass thousands of miles distant oceans. We hungrily follow all of their triumphs and tribulations which in turn color the pages of our own story.

And there are others as well. There are the actors, the players, the jesters and clowns. People who inhabit the tall tales of my stories.

Mark,  Dockboy and Dock Mama, DB2 and the Cussing Man and all of the other flotsam and jetsam that wash ashore in this coastal community with each ebb and flow of life’s tide.

There's even the smogboats owner...

In an odd and almost twisted way, I am grateful to them as well. Because without their presence there would be no tall tales and stories

I have vowed to come about, assume the starboard tack into the wind this year. Sheet the sails in tight and just hang on as the little ship bounces over uncharted and unfamiliar seas. I have made a promise to myself to write more, try and assemble some new stories and tales into some sort of chronicle outside the pages of Olivia’s Journey.

Changes are in the wind.

Thank you all.