Finding My Way In The Fog

Destination unknown...

The fog is drifting through the outside anchorage at Cuttyhunk, which is as remote and wild as it gets this close to the East Coast. The crash of waves on the southern side of the spit protecting the anchorage, and the call of gulls, is evocative background music. I welcome the fog. It delivers a moody, contemplative ambience, and keeps things cool. I’ve been on Laughing Gull for almost a month, and the ever changing moods of the Buzzards Bay seascape keep all my senses engaged. 

I’ve been radio silent for quite a while, because I have been thinking about what I really want to be writing about in this space. So far, I have come to at least one conclusion: I don’t want to simply write a cruising log. There are innumerable blogs out there focused on the the details of living and traveling on a sailboat. The maintenance. The sail changes. The navigational strategies. I have done plenty of that sort of writing in my life. But more recently, when I have drifted into that cruising log mode, I have bored myself. Maybe (probably?) you too. It can be interesting for hard core boaters. But, for me, in this moment, it doesn’t feel particularly meaningful to produce. 

Also, I don’t want to simply cruise. I came out here in the first place because I was living a life that was too comfortable, and too predictable. I wanted to scare myself, and push my limits, more. I wanted to put myself in a new creative environment. Most important, I felt a compulsion to shrink and simplify my life and its impact on the planet. Somehow, without truly realizing it or acknowledging it, I came to be living in a world where I didn’t really fit, or feel comfortable, or happy. Why? Because I am squarely in the Greta Thunberg “Our house is on fire”, “Blah, blah, blah” camp (out of the mouths of babes…). And if I believe that our house/planet is on fire (and worse, if you throw in the 6th Great Extinction, the steady impoverishment and degradation of the oceans, and the relentless destruction of forests and vital landscapes), how could I keep adding fuel?

The short answer is that I couldn’t. For most of my life I was part of the problem. For the rest of my life I want to try to NOT be part of the problem (I’ll address my thoughts about individual action vs. global solutions at another time). How to do that is something I want to explore and write about. And I want to do it (mostly? often? frequently?) from the simplified, yet also highly complex, world of a sailboat that is putting miles under its keel and taking me to new places. That is a world that energizes and uplifts me.

So that is what this will be. Or try to be. An exploration of the world by sailboat. And a personal exploration of how I am trying—on a heating, threatened planet—to live more in line with my values. I won’t be perfect, and I will make some bad calls I am sure. But I am going to try to live differently, and will do my best to make it matter. I hasten to add that how I choose to live is my own thing. I am not going to evangelize. I have tried that in the past, and all that happened was that I found myself stuck in corners that felt bleak and depressing. I finally discovered that the way out of those dark corners is to accept that all I can really do is make my own choices. And try to explain them, both to myself, and through writing to anyone who cares to read. That is a goal that feels reasonable, and (hopefully) meaningful. Sort of “Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance” afloat.

I’ll try to maintain a good balance between the personal stuff and the adventure stuff (And I’ll use Instagram as a sailing and cruising log). I’ll try to make it engaging and funny. I will try to keep it short and worth reading. And I’ll try and publish at least once a week. We’ll see. This is still a work in progress. Then again, every life is a constant work in progress. That’s kind of the fun of it. 

Stuff Worth Noting:

1. There’s gonna be a lot of regret over how we handled (or failed to handle) climate change if the Gulf Stream shuts down, especially in Europe where ice age conditions will likely return. This sort of science and modeling is never certain, but a recent study concludes that a tipping point could happen a lot sooner than expected: in decades instead of centuries..

2. Would you stop eating meat to try and save the Gulf Stream (and a lot of other things)? If so, you can cut the climate footprint of your diet by 75% if you eat plan-based foods instead. (I’m not saying vegan because people hate vegans and vegans just have to accept that and move on). Imagine how much easier it would be to solve or at least greatly mitigate the climate crisis if large numbers of humans made this simple change. But even if you don’t think you can give up meat completely (I know you can do it, but I’m not going to argue), every increment of reduction in meat consumption you make (especially red meat) is a climate bonus. Give it a try and see how far you can go. It’s just not that hard. I promise. Animals everywhere, and the planet, will thank you.

3. Besides, cows are awesome (click the image for the video)!

   

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