A pirate looks at 61, 8 Sep 19

17º 30.047s 149º 29.789w

Tue Sep 10 2019

With apologies to Jimmy Buffett. . .

Bailing out of full-time work at the age of 56 seemed like a pretty big deal to me back then as I looked around at my peers who were still planning to work until they could get medicare and social security. Funnily enough Isabel and I continue to meet folks who escaped in their late 40’s and early 50’s. Good for them I say, just glad I got out when I could. At first it was a bit of a worry after 30 something years of working 40 – 60 hours a week, with some in the 80-hour range, but as time went on and JollyDogs demanded my technical attention the transition became easier. No doubt about it – the cruising life is demanding and pretty much an ideal occupation for a pilot / engineer type.

As I reflect upon my 28 years at Boeing there’s a long list of individual and team accomplishments to be proud of. Those patent plaques now collect dust in Jack’s garage attic. The various corporate awards and toy rotorcraft and even my “executive sandbox” that I left on my desk the day I walked out met an unknown fate. Don’t know, don’t care. A few video clips created mostly by my old friend Dan Cierna live on a USB stick, and I do occasionally have a peek for old time’s sake. We did good work. Jack helped drive the success of the most complex flight test program I ever designed, taking a huge part of the operations load off my shoulders so I could concentrate on test execution safety and technical details. Having dropped out of the US Air Force Academy after 1 ½ years (that life just wasn’t for me), working various programs for the US Marines, Navy, Army and Air Force as well as the general public ensured that the US taxpayers got their payback.

After all that it’s interesting to reflect upon the opportunity that surfaced after my full-time work retirement. In 2015 a little start-up called Near Earth Autonomy called one day to enquire if I might be able to find a little time to assist in a flight test demonstration for the US Marines, an effort funded by the Office of Naval Research. That led to about 3 ½ months of intense effort in 2015, another 3 months or so in 2016, and a week each in 2017 and 2018. I’m still on the company employee roster, but they haven’t tasked me with anything in 2019 so perhaps I’m done there. Even after all those years with the aerospace giant working with big teams and travelling to interesting places around the world, the opportunity to be part of something just taking off, bleeding edge technology developed by a tiny company of incredibly smart and focused people, THAT might have been the most exciting part of my professional life.

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What to do to celebrate 61 revolutions around Sol? Well, pop up like a piece of toast at dawn, make a French press of nice coffee, a gift from my new friend Ian, a Welshman from a steel cutter in the anchorage, and watch the day come together. Done with the coffee, toss the stand-up paddle board in the water and go for a good paddle for an hour or so, then end up on Amalie, a British flagged Oyster 53’ having a coffee with Stephen and Debbie, the lovely couple who have sailed her around the world once in a great hurry, and are now doing it again at a much slower pace. There’s something to be said for a whistle stop tour if you can muster the time, energy and resources to rinse and repeat on your own schedule. . .

After seriously good coffee on Amelie, mark the birthday occasion with some pink wine from Provence (my nod to Gerard and Sophie who “grow their own” near Marseilles) along with a lunch of pate, compte cheese and cornichons, then a nap in the hammock followed by an electrical project and some adjustments to the steering system. Make a load of hot water while there’s excess solar power, then enjoy a hot shower before a sundowner beer on Amalie and then dinner with Welshman Ian, a decent curry he’s whipped up. Everyday includes some fun, some work, some adventure, and some socializing. The cruising life is good.

As I reflect upon all the wonderful events of the last 61 years, by far the most important is the discovery of my lovely wife Isabel. Without her I likely wouldn’t be doing this; with her it’s magical. She’s doing well with her yoga instructor’s course and I’m excited to reunite with her in about 9 days, but for now it’s best she does her thing and I do mine. Tomorrow I’ll be back to kite surfing and more boat fixing, and she’ll be getting closer to a yoga instructor’s certification. What a deal! An incredibly smart, pretty woman who loves me, is a great sailor and great cook, and the best friend anyone could have. Of all the good things that have happened in my life, stumbling upon her on a live-aboard SCUBA boat in Australia far and away tops the list.

I’m also very lucky to have the brother and sister I grew up with. While we have our moments and the occasional “go” at each other, when times were really bad for me they both dropped what they were doing and got their ass on a plane to look after me. I don’t recommend crashing a 15-meter wingspan sailplane to see what might happen next, but in many ways it was a very positive experience. I found out who my true friends were then, and how strong my family bonds were. Perhaps I’ll be able to return the service someday, in the meantime we do our best to look after our tribe of cruising companions.

My mom and dad are now dust in the wind. Many of my closest friends lived full lives, burning the candle at both ends and they are now gone forever. In several cases I was fortunate enough to be with them in their last days, to see and feel the pain, joy, sadness, and finally the resolve that they would soon be at peace. Apparently it’s not my turn yet, and I’m going to make sure that every day is full of joy and accomplishment until the reaper calls my number.

Let’s go sailing.