Means of Seeing what the eye brings

Hunter S. Thompson shot himself last Saturday night. i was reminded of another great writer, Richard Bratigan, found dead in the woods behind his place, a .45 and an empty whiskey bottle at hand.
Shades of Nick Jones too, my friends; the mad mystic, the creative force not so much driven to destroy itself so as to choose its own ending, its own destiny. Kim and i discussed this once. She told me that she had long-ago determined that she felt she wanted to kill herself in the end; not so much out of a sense of helplessness or depression, but as an act of supreme self-determination. My own suicidal tendancies always ran in a more melancholy vein. In any event, we agreed that we’d rather not live our last days tied to some medical machine or otherwise wasting away.
Over the last few months, i’ve been embracing stranger energies again, letting my life be governed by circumstance. In a great discussion last night with H.E. (my old Rasta friend), we got talking about theology and spirituality. We agreed that the path you take that is greater than the destination or departure point. All endings ought to come just as they naturally do; in the end.
Hunter S. always blurred the line between observer and participant in life’s circus. Perhaps the act of ending his life was the best obituary he could write…

Rigged a new spinnaker pole on the Dink and got out into the harbour this afternoon. Blasted downwind past the usual flotilla of bareboats and cruisers out into the outer harbour to do a couple laps around a special lady anchored out.
Yup, Velsheda is in Soper’s Hole for a couple nights. The last J-Class yacht in Soper’s Hole was Ranger, which i (unfortunately) missed getting up close to. Not so this time! i got a great look of Velsheda… perfect!

Busy busy lately. Taught and coached sailing on Saturday, raced on Sunday. Great winds, great boats! The downside? Getting into the dinghy to go out to Ruffian (my race ride for Sunday), i heard a sickening “kerplop”, and turned my head just in time to watch my (fairly) new digital camera make time a stone for the bottom. Snatched it from the water, but it was too late. i removed the battery and memory card, wiped the worst from it (some parts still dry, as it was in a case), and left it to dry a bit. Later that day, dissassembled it and washed out the salt scum with fresh water, and dried it more carefully. Still, but for one brief flicker, nothing. Ah…
On the other hand, we had a great race, and i’ve finally gotten myself a new coveted Mount Gay “Red Hat” to replace my lost BVI Sping Regatta one (which i have a feeling i left in Seattle). Some trade, eh?

Indeed! This weekend was the Loyal West End Yacht Club’s 27th annual “Sweethearts of The Caribbean” Regatta. On Saturday there were two races; the schooner race and the single-handed race. Unfortunately, the schooner race was abust… only one schooner showed up! Recently, a well-known schooner owner from the USVI had died, and most of the other local schooner owner/captains were aboard his old boat back in Cruz Bay holding a memorial of sorts.
i missed most of the Saturday action, however. i had my usual morning commitment on the Spit, helping with Laser sailing with KATS. The previous evening, one of the WEYC race committee members had cornered me and convinced me to fill in for his usual Saturday afternoon KATS commitment. So, after morning Lasers, it was off to Nanny Cay and to join a few other kids for racing aboard an IC-24.
Back in West End, Sunday was scheduled for two more races, the Classics (boats whose design or manufacture is greater than 30 years old) and the Wannabes (25 yrs old). i had the great priviledge to crew aboard a great competative boat in the Classics class, a Kinney Pipe Dream 36 called Ruffian. i had just finished a bunch of interior woodwork on the boat, and the owner, Marty