"Wherever we want to go, we go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. That's what a ship needs. But what a ship is...is freedom" Captain Jack Sparrow.
‘tis true. I've never known freedom like that of the open ocean. I was adamant; I am not doing an overnight passage. But then, I changed my mind. After months of planning, weeks of staging and repairs, emotional ups and downs, with the open ocean in front of me, freedom was calling. When you toss your bow lines or raise your anchor, and point your bow to the open ocean, there is something within your soul that changes. You breathe in the salty air, and you exhale the troubles of the world you leave behind. I don't know if it is the possibilities or the unknown, but there is something that lets you loosen the ties that bind you on the land. There are no fenced in yards, no lanes of the road, no offices with bosses and deadlines, no schedules. Freedom. If you have ever longed for freedom, perhaps my friend, you truly long for the sea.
‘tis true. I've never known freedom like that of the open ocean. I was adamant; I am not doing an overnight passage. But then, I changed my mind. After months of planning, weeks of staging and repairs, emotional ups and downs, with the open ocean in front of me, freedom was calling. When you toss your bow lines or raise your anchor, and point your bow to the open ocean, there is something within your soul that changes. You breathe in the salty air, and you exhale the troubles of the world you leave behind. I don't know if it is the possibilities or the unknown, but there is something that lets you loosen the ties that bind you on the land. There are no fenced in yards, no lanes of the road, no offices with bosses and deadlines, no schedules. Freedom. If you have ever longed for freedom, perhaps my friend, you truly long for the sea.
We sailed through the pass at sunrise. Our first anchorage making our way to the Keys was a 10 hour sail. With the predicted 10-15 knot winds, we would anchor just before the last light of the day. But forecasts are a funny thing. The weather doesn't always listen to what it is supposed to do, and our 10 hour sail quickly turned to 12-14 hours in the 5-10 knots of wind we actually had. So we were faced with entering the pass and anchoring in the dark with no moon, or we could keep sailing through the night and make it to our next anchorage during daylight. With the open ocean and calm seas in front of me, it took no twisting of my arm to convince me to sail through the night. I truly wanted to. The ocean was calling to me. We looked at our charts, and decided not only to sail through the night to the next anchorage, but sail straight to the Dry Tortugas, skipping the three anchorages I was adamant we stop at to prevent the overnight sails. We pointed our compass to 180, and 30 hours later, we were in paradise. The night passage was uneventful, no near death experiences by airplane, no pirate ships turned US Coast Guard, and no rough seas, although fairly rolly and uncomfortable seas.
