Freedom

If you have just read the title of this posting, you are probably thinking that I am going to write something about our great country or quite possibly the 4th of July. Well, you are wrong. This little bit of nonsense has to do with a text that my brother sent me a couple of weeks ago asking for pictures of what freedom looks like. I'm sure he was knee deep in the daily grind and wanted to have a little day dream of what it's like to not have a care in the world, so of course I texted back a picture of exactly what we were looking at. We had just rowed our dinghy to shore and were staring back at our boat that was anchored in a beautiful bay. Freedom is a wonderful thing, and for us, it comes in many forms.

When I took the picture and sent it back to my brother, we had been back on the boat for about 14 hours. We had only motored about 8 miles to where we dropped the anchor to stay for a few nights while we put the boat back together. A few days of putting the boat back together later, and I was starting to wonder what it was that we liked about being sailors. Another day or two after that of boat projects forced me to say “screw it...let's go!” and we decided that what wasn't done was going to possibly get done at some point this summer...if we got around to it...because for now, it was time to have some fun.

The boat was put back together enough for us to raise the sails and cover some ground, the water maker was flushed out and making water, the solar panels were soaking up the sun and making electricity, and we had enough food on the boat where we could comfortably be away from a store for a few months (if we didn't mind eating canned food, powdered milk, and beans and rice...we do mind all of those things, but if we had to, we could do it). We were back to being self sufficient and self reliant and it felt pretty good.

When we left our anchorage of boat projects at Spencer Spit and started our summer of fun, we had a stiff breeze that was pushing us along to our next anchorage at Jones Island. Our sails were full and we were being propelled by nothing but the wind. We were sailors again and our first day back as sailors reminded me of why I love being on the boat. There is an overwhelming sense of freedom that I have never experienced with any other mode of travel. With enough time, we can go anywhere in the world we want and we can get there with nothing more than the help of a little breeze from Mother Nature.

The few hours of sailing that it took to get us to Jones Island went by pretty quickly. I wasn't ready to drop the sails and lower the anchor even though the bay we were going to anchor in was staring me in the face. I was having a moment of clarity that my muddied mind doesn't have all that often. I was feeling free. I was feeling exhilarated. I was ready to make a pot of coffee, get settled in for a long night, and let the south wind we were experiencing blow us all the way to Alaska. I was jacked up on freedom-juice and the wind in my hair felt incredible...so I kept on sailing toward Alaska.

You have to know that I hadn't really thought my plan through. I didn't really have a plan. I was just feeling great, and since the boat was full of food, water, and fuel and pointed toward Alaska, why wouldn't we want to go there? Up until that point in my lack of a plan, Brenda had been down below doing whatever it is that she does when I am pretending that I am Captain of our ship. She came up to the cockpit, looked behind us and said, “isn't that Jones Island way back there?” “Um, yeah.” “Aren't we going there?” “Um, we were.” “I thought we were going to hike around the island.” “Um, not any more...we're headed for Alaska.” Then she said something that brought my feeling of freedom crashing down to reality. “We wanted to hike around that island.”

That last statement might not seem like something that would deflate an over inflated sense of freedom, but you would be surprised at what happens to a man when someone higher up the chain of command lays down an order...even if that order was laid down with the tone of a suggestion. The short version of this story is that we anchored at Jones Island for a couple of nights, hiked around, and had a great time. Jones Island wasn't Alaska, but the feeling of freedom I had as I was sailing towards our first fun destination of the summer was overwhelming. It is a feeling that I will hopefully not forget the next time I am hanging upside down in the bilge or when the Captain is barking orders at me.

For my brother, here are some pictures of freedom (you are welcome to look at them too).

Anchored at Jones Island

Bacon Maple Bars at the Orcas Island Saturday Market.  The most delicious thing that has ever been invented.  You can trust me on that one, I'm a doctor (I'm not really a doctor, but I do play one on tv so you can still trust me...mmmmmmm)

Sometimes to celebrate Freedom, we like to blow stuff up.  These guys are getting the barge ready to do just that.


Yep, blowing stuff up in the name of freedom.

Moon rise over Roche Harbor

Another beautiful bay at sunset

the Strait of Georgia

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