Saturday, August 26, 2017

Sombrero Reef: this is so great

        8:30 p.m. and I have just come below to write.   My requiem playlist is playing on the Megabooms in the cockpit. A fuzzy first crescent moon is visible through hazy clouds,
         The last day trip dive boat left an hour and a half ago as I expected it would and since then I have been alone.  I breathed deeply and felt the light wind blow against my skin more essential than blood, as I have with poetic license written, yet for me it is almost true.
        If you were to meet me in person I hope you would find me friendly and reasonably socially adept; but I am an only child, a good preparation for a solo sailor, and it took.  I have spent eight or nine or ten years totally alone at sea, and I have a need for solitude.  And to be on the edge.  And for endless horizons.  Cuba is ninety miles to the south, but I am surrounded by water and open to Ocean,
        Occasionally people travel some distance to meet me.  One, a successful tech entrepreneur, said that as he was driving to our lunch engagement he thought:  I am going to meet the Steve Jobs of sailing.  Steve Jobs had many qualities I do not and I am not sure the comparison is valid, though I do like to believe that we are both originals,
        I sometimes wonder if those who meet me in person are disappointed with the reality of Webb Chiles, as I have sometimes been disappointed by reading biographies of writers and artists I admire.  Australia's Nobel Prize winning Patrick White particularly comes to mind.  Perhaps like Greta Garbo I should keep my distance and mystery,
        I love being out here,  
        I may return in January and, after swimming and looking at fish looking at me, sail for Panama from one of these moorings,
        The playlist is to one of the three renditions of Bach’s ART OF THE FUGUE.  
        The wind is blowing through the forward hatch against my skin and I am about to pour Laphroaig into a Dartington crystal glass and drink it standing in the night.