"We are disassembling our life," I said to Steve last week as more components were packed and winterized.. boats are already heading south as we SPAR WITH MOTHER NATURE...
Duncan is a skilled craftsman. I think she is in good hands with this repair. But, oh, if it's not like watching a beloved undergo major surgery! It hardly seems possible to imagine everything will work again as its meant to some day. One thing's certain: This revised plan will leave an indelible mark on your stories. I hope it brings an opportunity to build lasting relationships and familiarity with place that would have been less likely had you continued on straight through.
Yesterday, at the community garden, I had a brief conversation with a live-aboard woman making her way, with her husband, on a catamaran from Canada to parts much farther south. (She mentioned, among other places, Cuba & Belize.) But they are currently without a mast while it's being re-rigged.
I thought of you, and how much more of an investment your project is.
God willing and the Creek don't rise: I'll never think of this expression the same way. Love the historical interpretation. It makes so much sense!
It is reassuring to hear that you man imagine the scope as most cannot and it is a bit overwhelming some days! We are disassembling our life and it's complicated! Also, you are correct an opportunity to learn a new place and find some good people. Duncan is certainly one of them.
And we, too, will get to Belize before those reefs are forever changed. Good Lord willing and the Creek don't rise...I'm very pleased to have conveyed something so memorable!
Wow, Steadfast is beautiful. I'm so glad I found your page. I tend the office for the Schooner J. & E. Riggin, a 1927 gaff rigged wooden schooner that started life in NJ as an oyster dredger and is now in windjammer service here in Maine. I am aware of what it takes to keep these boats going and how many curveballs they throw at their stewards. While I plan to build a wooden skiff next fall just to learn what I consider another art medium and test myself a bit, when asked if I would ever like to own a wooden sailboat, my answer - which is all about my own limitations, not the glorious boats themselves - is "no." I have the deepest admiration for those of you who do, because you are keeping this history alive and there is no substitute for these vessels.
Hello Elizabeth! You made my long day of refit and revitalization ALL WORTH WHILE! I absolutely cannot thank you enough. I wrote THE WOODEN BOAT PHENOMENON a few weeks ago so if you go back to my homepage I believe you will enjoy and understand it. I will search your J&E Riggin' and look forward to seeing what you are a part of.
When I am sailing on STEADFAST it is all worth while, but our next year, emotionally and financially, I wouldn't wish on anyone. She will be worth it. Some day we will show her off up north and will ge to meet some of you wonderful people. We picked her up at Front Street in Belfast, ME three years ago, sailed her down. Our life is grand. I will enjoy following yours.
I am familiar with Front Street in Belfast! Yes! Do bring her back to Maine and maybe we can get together. I think you’d love our Captains too. You can easily find our website at schoonerriggin dot com. xo
There were two common sayings in my home when I was growing up.
My grandmother, born in 1903, and who possessed a beauty unique to the Irish, always lamented (in a humorous way), "Why couldn't we have been born rich, rather than good looking?" And it was always funny, because she had always been a looker. My internet searches have not turned up a source for this particular saying, so for now I'm going to say that it was probably common to the vernacular of her time. Though, she was an English teacher, so she may have picked it up in literature.
My mother often said, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." This phrase has quite a history dating back to the 12th century and I'm sure she intended it with its original intent, as she was one of those people who was often "disappointed" by the men in her life. This was her "walk away" line.
Maybe this is something more common to the digital era, but my own children regularly quote from TV shows and movies (i.e. Friends, The Office, Madmen, etc.) to speak in shorthand. For example, the classic, "We were on a break" when somebody should've known better; or "No thanks, I'm a Fruitarian" when we don't want to do something.
My grandmother Pearl, born 1903, also a teacher, had many such pearls of wisdom. They do bring back tremendous memories, and the entire FEEL of the moment, if we're lucky!
During a good day anywhere my mom would ask us, " I wonder what the poor people are doing today." We were the (almost) poor people but were still enjoying every ounce of what we had. Another great lesson. I am still envisioning your Irish grandmother.
And we've all been on that road to hell, haven't we?!?
Thanks Scott, as always, great to have you here. J
Janice, I immerse myself in my own Chesapeake memories when I read your posts. Some of the finest mornings in my life were spent at sunrise on my Enterprise while watching the sun rise and the morning life on Jones Creek.
I thought of something ol’ Thoreau said that seems to fit your quest:
“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
It’s early autumn there in Cambridge. What a grand time to see your dreams, maybe still a little wrinkled, as they unfold.
"We are disassembling our life," I said to Steve last week as more components were packed and winterized.. boats are already heading south as we SPAR WITH MOTHER NATURE...
Duncan is a skilled craftsman. I think she is in good hands with this repair. But, oh, if it's not like watching a beloved undergo major surgery! It hardly seems possible to imagine everything will work again as its meant to some day. One thing's certain: This revised plan will leave an indelible mark on your stories. I hope it brings an opportunity to build lasting relationships and familiarity with place that would have been less likely had you continued on straight through.
Yesterday, at the community garden, I had a brief conversation with a live-aboard woman making her way, with her husband, on a catamaran from Canada to parts much farther south. (She mentioned, among other places, Cuba & Belize.) But they are currently without a mast while it's being re-rigged.
I thought of you, and how much more of an investment your project is.
God willing and the Creek don't rise: I'll never think of this expression the same way. Love the historical interpretation. It makes so much sense!
It is reassuring to hear that you man imagine the scope as most cannot and it is a bit overwhelming some days! We are disassembling our life and it's complicated! Also, you are correct an opportunity to learn a new place and find some good people. Duncan is certainly one of them.
And we, too, will get to Belize before those reefs are forever changed. Good Lord willing and the Creek don't rise...I'm very pleased to have conveyed something so memorable!
Thanks and great conversation with Jeff, as well.
J
Wow, Steadfast is beautiful. I'm so glad I found your page. I tend the office for the Schooner J. & E. Riggin, a 1927 gaff rigged wooden schooner that started life in NJ as an oyster dredger and is now in windjammer service here in Maine. I am aware of what it takes to keep these boats going and how many curveballs they throw at their stewards. While I plan to build a wooden skiff next fall just to learn what I consider another art medium and test myself a bit, when asked if I would ever like to own a wooden sailboat, my answer - which is all about my own limitations, not the glorious boats themselves - is "no." I have the deepest admiration for those of you who do, because you are keeping this history alive and there is no substitute for these vessels.
Hello Elizabeth! You made my long day of refit and revitalization ALL WORTH WHILE! I absolutely cannot thank you enough. I wrote THE WOODEN BOAT PHENOMENON a few weeks ago so if you go back to my homepage I believe you will enjoy and understand it. I will search your J&E Riggin' and look forward to seeing what you are a part of.
When I am sailing on STEADFAST it is all worth while, but our next year, emotionally and financially, I wouldn't wish on anyone. She will be worth it. Some day we will show her off up north and will ge to meet some of you wonderful people. We picked her up at Front Street in Belfast, ME three years ago, sailed her down. Our life is grand. I will enjoy following yours.
J
I am familiar with Front Street in Belfast! Yes! Do bring her back to Maine and maybe we can get together. I think you’d love our Captains too. You can easily find our website at schoonerriggin dot com. xo
There were two common sayings in my home when I was growing up.
My grandmother, born in 1903, and who possessed a beauty unique to the Irish, always lamented (in a humorous way), "Why couldn't we have been born rich, rather than good looking?" And it was always funny, because she had always been a looker. My internet searches have not turned up a source for this particular saying, so for now I'm going to say that it was probably common to the vernacular of her time. Though, she was an English teacher, so she may have picked it up in literature.
My mother often said, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." This phrase has quite a history dating back to the 12th century and I'm sure she intended it with its original intent, as she was one of those people who was often "disappointed" by the men in her life. This was her "walk away" line.
Maybe this is something more common to the digital era, but my own children regularly quote from TV shows and movies (i.e. Friends, The Office, Madmen, etc.) to speak in shorthand. For example, the classic, "We were on a break" when somebody should've known better; or "No thanks, I'm a Fruitarian" when we don't want to do something.
My grandmother Pearl, born 1903, also a teacher, had many such pearls of wisdom. They do bring back tremendous memories, and the entire FEEL of the moment, if we're lucky!
During a good day anywhere my mom would ask us, " I wonder what the poor people are doing today." We were the (almost) poor people but were still enjoying every ounce of what we had. Another great lesson. I am still envisioning your Irish grandmother.
And we've all been on that road to hell, haven't we?!?
Thanks Scott, as always, great to have you here. J
Check this out (if it comes through)...Wooden Boat Festival near Port Townsend. https://www.peninsuladailynews.com/news/racing-shells-made-from-cedar-built-with-oral-tradition/ Wishing you an inspired day.
Janice, I immerse myself in my own Chesapeake memories when I read your posts. Some of the finest mornings in my life were spent at sunrise on my Enterprise while watching the sun rise and the morning life on Jones Creek.
I thought of something ol’ Thoreau said that seems to fit your quest:
“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
It’s early autumn there in Cambridge. What a grand time to see your dreams, maybe still a little wrinkled, as they unfold.
Bravo! Thank you for sharing challenges, commitments, and the joy of sailing. Wishing you the best from your Piscean friend in the far NW of the USA.
So pleased you are following along my journey...how's yours shaping up my friend?
One day at a time. One breath at a time. Grateful!
ODE TO TREE FRIENDS
I lean against you as you sway—
my arms wrapped around your nakedness,
sweet scent of rain and wet bark,
you and I married to life, holding on,
rooted in the dark of night and light of day.
How many feathered friends visit you,
cawing, tweeting, screeching, caroling—
weaving threads of a newly built nest,
then laying of eggs…birth, love and first flight,
wings waft and flutter in brilliant moon light.
Beautiful tree, withstanding winter winds—
bend, bow and lean as if teaching Tai Chi—
the art of grace from beginning to end.
Yes, you too, moan. I know I’m not alone,
and eventually we let go of life.
Whisper, moan and creak, but never complain—
your roots teach me the art of withstanding.