Paul enjoys the ride forward…

more great details aboard Bolero

Last Sunday afternoon, i went for a great sail aboard my friend’s classic all-teak sailboat Simba. Simba is a classic Cheoy Lee Lion-class sloop, 36 feet long, 9 feet of beam, and 6 feet of draft. Paul rowed ashore from his mooring to pick me up, and took me out to the boat a short ways away at the head of the harbour.
Then a remarkable thing happened. We sailed away. Now, you’d assume that’s what you do on a sailboat, but these days most folks are all too quick to fire up the motor and power far out of the harbour before even taking the covers off the sails. Not so on Simba! We sailed downwind through the many other moored boats here in Soper’s Hole, around Steele Point, and over to Sandy Cay and Jost Van Dyke. We didn’t stop anywhere, just poked into a few harbours, tacked out, and enjoyed the fine day, the fine breeze, and the fine company.
The best was saved for last. Reaching down back around Steele Point into Soper’s Hole, we were faced with quite a few tacks to get back into the harbour. Still no engine. Half a dozen tacks later, against both wind and current, we were in amongst the many other moored and anchored boats packing Soper’s Hole. We were quite a sight to many folks! The bareboaters goggled at us, tacking and cutting close by their rented boats, while the occasional salt grinned and waved at us as we sailed Paul’s house like a dingy.
We sailed smartly right up to his mooring, dropped sail, and sat down to chatter, the sunset, and a round or two of fine grog (the real stuff!). What could be better? i don’t suppose any non-sailing readers will really understand my excitement at all this, but there it is; a day of sailing, not motoring, and that’s a rare thing these days indeed.

Waiting for sleep a few nights ago, i said to myself, “Y’know, this is really all okay.”. i gave a start! only “okay”? i recall times in the bus, falling asleep in the coldest winter gloom, the fire out, and frost gathering on my blankets, smiling like an idiot, and telling the cat, “Boiler, this is as good as it gets! As good as it gets!!“! Just so happy to be alive and living in my bus, with my cat. Alive!
Now? Only “okay”? What gives? Ah… i’m thinking of this new Mark Knopfler song that’s been playing on the radio; there’s this line, “sometimes you have to be an S.O.B./if you want to make a dream reality”. Am i being a shit towards myself to further this dream of having my own boat?
Ah well, it’s probably just Christmas; like most annual holidays/events, it serves as another reminder of another whole year gone by full of failures, hesitations, and denial. i came to the Carib for the opportunity to end that cycle, just as i once came to my bus. Sacrifice, sacrifice… at least i can finally see an end to it…