My Quest

Chapter 1: Portage de Sioux


When I talk to people about my dream of retiring on a sailboat, the first question is always the same: How did I decide on a sailboat? Well, the answer, is a series of events that led us on our current path. Several years ago, Martina and I visited Puerto Valarta Mexico, while there, we chartered a Whale watching cruise: It was aboard a sailboat. I liked the way the boat glided through the water with only the sounds of the wind and ocean. The Captain told us stories about his sailing past and his desire to sail on to Hawaii after the tourist season. This gave rise to an idea in my mind and watching those majestic creatures swimming so close to our boat just added to the appeal.



Martina also had a friend that she worked with who, along with her husband, had purchased a sailboat and started reconditioning it as a live aboard. After several years of sailing lessons, sailing trips, and finishing their boat, they quit their jobs and set sail. They had planned to go to Belize and start a sailing charter business, but ended up starting their business in Mobile Alabama instead. After the oil spill in the Gulf, they sold their boat and moved back to land.


Martina and I started talking about the possibility of using a sailboat to travel the Mediterranean. I love history and love visiting ancient sites and could spend many years exploring the Med. We decided to buy a cheaper starter boat to see if we even liked to sail. The boat we chose was a Lancer 25. It was listed on Craigslist as having a motor that didn't run and a good list of included items. When we looked at the boat I noticed that it has several bags of sails, and the engine didn't have an electrical cord. Being from a mechanical background I was confident I could fix the engine. We settled on a fair price and the lancer was ours.


We renamed her Sentio Ventus: Latin for Experience the Wind. I repaired the electrical cord on the engine and after new spark plugs, new fuel, and a shot or two of starter fluid, she fired up and purred like a kitten. We also hit the jackpot with the bags of sails; We had two main sails, two front sails, and a storm sail, all in good condition. The boat has originated in the great lakes and came packed with safety gear and charts for the Mississippi and great lakes regions.


Even though I had never had a sailing lesson and had only been on one sailboat in my lifetime, I felt confident that I could sail: After all, I had read several books about sailing. So we prepared the sails, pulled the lines and backed out of the slip. We motored into the canal leading to the river and the engine promptly died. After pulling on the rope for what seemed like eternity and using a few choice words, the engine not making a peep, we paddled the boat out of the way of other boats and tied up to a bush. After pulling the rope for another eternity with no results, I called the Marina owner and requested a tow.


After being towed back to the slip and securing the dock lines, I tried the engine again and it fired right up and ran like a top (of course) but after running for a few minutes it stalled again. The engine was overheating and I hadn't even noticed the fact that no water was coming out of the back of the engine. The elderly sailor next to us pointed out that the pump wasn't pumping, grinning at my lack of marine knowledge as well. So off the engine came and into the back of my Explorer it was laid to make the trip home to be repaired. After wrestling with the three foot long shaft on the motor and replacing the impeller, back to the river we went.


This time after starting the engine, we got the stream of water out the back that I should have noticed missing on our last trip. Once again we prepared the sails, backed out of the slip, the boat abruptly turned the wrong direction and we ended up motoring out of the Marina in reverse. After correcting our direction we pointed her into the wind and raised the main sail, shut off the motor and turned to let the sail fill. Fill she did, and the boat heeled over hard to starboard and scared Martina and I out of our wits. Martina was frantically trying to pull the sail down while I started the motor (yes, it started) and back into the Marina we motored. It turns out it was too windy to sail that day,  Hell, I thought you needed wind to sail. My neighbor was there grinning again, asking about our sail when we returned.


The next trip out seemed to be perfect, We motored out and set the sails and sailed out across the river and even had our first tack to bring us back. After sailing up river towards the Marina for about an hour I notice the statue of our lady of the river was still on my port side and had been there after we tacked. Yes, we were sailing but at the same speed as the river current and not gaining any ground, but the sailing was relaxing and the background of the cliffs on the Illinois side made for a perfect day.


We decided to motor in the rest of the way and fired up the old Evinrude. Just outside of the Marina entrance there is a whirlpool and the boat jerks back and forth as you motor through. Right in the middle of the whirlpool our motor jumped up and down and abruptly fell off the back of the boat with me still holding the tiller in my hand. No, I'm not making this up; our engine would have gone to the bottom except for the fact that I left it tied to the steering shaft; I tied it there when reinstalling it so it wouldn't fall overboard as I remounted it. The sails were still up and I quickly adjusted them so I could sail into the canal. We barely made it in before the current pushed us past and tied up on a log. I reinstalled the motor and even though shaken, we motored back to our slip.


The motor came loose a few more times and we determined that the transom was loose. I repaired the transom and through bolted it with stainless steel bolts so it would never come loose again. We sailed a few more times on the river and then decided we should move the boat to Carlyle lake to a better learning experience. We visited all the Marinas at the lake and decided on Boulder Marina. The Harbor Master, Schmitty, even offered to move our boat.


The day we moved the boat, Schmitty showed up with a trailer and I motored over to the haulout area. He backed the trailer into the water and I pulled the boat on. Schmitty said the trailer didn't fit the boat and would have to be adjusted and that he would pull the boat out first and then make the adjustment. Out she came for the first time in who knows how long and up the hill we went. The boat was balanced on her keel and Schmitty yelled up for me not to move at the same time that I did, and you guessed it, the boat fell over on its side, crushing a trailer fender in the process. After righting the boat using the mast and mainsail halyard, we adjusted the legs on the trailer and bent the fender back to make it road worthy, and off she went.




Chapter 2: Carlyle Lake

By now you may be wondering why I even continue to sail? Well, the short answer is that I like it. When Sentio Ventus arrived at Carlyle Lake it was the beginning of the sailing season, so we took advantage before putting her in the water to make some improvements, we had her bottom painted and replaced the old Evinrude with a four stroke electric start motor.

With spring Martina and I signed up for sailing lessons with St. Louis sailing and learned the ropes from Bill Learn. Bill is the best sailor I have ever met, I would trust him in any boat in any weather. The weekend we trained it was cold and rainy with high winds and high waves, the worst conditions to sail in but the best to learn in. Over that weekend Bill taught us things that we never even thought about, his confidence and ability showed me what a seasoned sailor could do with only the wind as engine power. I will take his lessons with me whenever and wherever I sail.

We decided to enter a few races to hone our skill and with new found friends in the Marina we had willing crew members to help. One particular race, a night race comes to mind. I had never sailed in the dark and wanted to try it. Martina opted to sit this one out, but William (my son), our slip neighbor, and I accepted the challenge and set off into the twilight. Its an eerie feeling sliding along in the dark, at one point we had to round a tower, actually a partially submerged grain silo; seeing that tower emerge from the shadows and closing in fast lead to a tense few minutes, but reflecting back after the race makes me proud of how far I've come. One of our crew falling into the companion way after docking because he had a few too many made it priceless. he didn't even spill his drink.

After a trouble free season of sailing we decided to upgrade to a bigger boat, one that was more in line with the one we will live on in the future, all be it a smaller version. We looked at several boats and decided upon a Catalina 27, it was big enough to be comfortable but still small enough not to be too intimidating to sail. I also like working on and upgrading her. We named her Aquilon: Latin for North Wind, because she is fast and nimble. Trouble, however, caught up with us again, on our second trip out, while motoring back to the Marina, smoke started bellowing out of the engine compartment. The impeller had failed and the engine overheated; sound familiar? This engine, however, is a inboard diesel, I have experience working on diesels, so it was an easy fix.

In the time since we have had Aquilon, we have upgraded the interior and I also built a custom folding bed to make for more comfortable sleeping, we have also made many upgrades topside including changing the sail covers from red to blue. We added a gas grill and using it to make breakfast along with fresh coffee is one of my favorite times on the boat.  I like listening to the wildlife around the Marina in the early morning hours (except for the Carp banging on  the bottom of the boat all night). Recently I finished staining and sealing the teak on the top of the boat and this winter the headsail is getting an overhaul along with a blue uv cover to match the other covers.

I will continue to sail and enjoy the sounds of the wind and water and dream of sailing on clear blue seas. I know that every mile I sail makes me better and every challenge I overcome make me stronger and I have made many friends who share the same dream and that encourages me even more.

Friends Lost

I have been working in the same field and at the same place for most of my adult life, in those 20 plus years a lot of people have come and gone, some become good, close friends.When you work closely with people for many years you get to know them very well, sometimes better than their own families, Lord knows we spend more time with them. You share their heartache from lost loves, their pain through the loss of a loved one, and their different joys in life as well. I have had several  friends that passed away for one reason or another over the years, but 4 that I considered close friends and this story is about them.

I will only mention first names in my story out of respect for their families:

When I left the Army I bounced around several jobs until I found my niche: I started working at a Ford dealership as a apprentice mechanic and Sonny was my teacher and friend. If you saw Sonny in a dark alley you would probably turn around and run the other way. He was a 6'2" bearded giant who could pick an engine up off of the floor and set it on his work bench with little effort. Sonny was the personification of a "good ole boy", farm raised with country values, although a giant, a gentle giant. He joked all of the time and used the funniest sayings to describe any and everything: we called them "Sonny-isms".

Sonny was in some ways a Father figure for me, my own father had passed away a little over 3 years before Sonny and I met. He taught me, not only to work on vehicles, but more importantly, how to diagnose what was wrong with them, a skill that some mechanics just don't have. Over the years we stayed close and I survived his practical jokes. His favorite joke was wiring my toolbox to the ignition of a car, so when I went to get a tool out, he would crank the engine and I would get shocked. If you asked him if he was busy you would usually get a reply like " I am busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest". He always put a smile on my face and I miss him dearly.

Ken, we called him Kenny, was a straight laced, no bullshit, kind of guy. Kenny wouldn't give you a second glance unless you earned his respect, and you had to earn it. I worked next to him for over a year before he would even talk to me. The first time he did, he embarrassed me: He told me my ears were dirty, and to this day, every morning when I clean my ears, I think of him. After I earned his respect, we were good friend. He was a quite, hard working man, that loved his family above all else. He was clean and organized and taught me a lot about being more efficient through organization. You could always count on Kenny to tell you like it was and his word was respected by everyone in the shop.

Kevin was a tall lanky fellow that also liked to goof around and joke. He had a drinking past but stayed sober for many years, mainly for his son who he loved dearly. I remember Kevin crushing his foot with a manhole cover, and I, carrying him to my office to wait for an ambulance. I also remember banging said hurt foot on the door frame going into my office and Kevin howling in pain while all the mechanics giggled and laughed. Kevin rode a Harley and together we logged a lot of miles, cage free. Sadly, Kevin's wife left him for another man, and he turned back to the bottle to find solace for his pain. One night he took a final ride after leaving a bar. His name is painted on the water tower on highway 100, and he is missed by many. He died too early in life and to see his slide into depression left us all feeling guilty that we couldn't do more to help him.

Tom was in sales. He used to ride a foreign bike until we finally shamed him into buying a Harley. He was so proud of that Fat Boy; the look on his face the first time he rode to work was priceless. We also logged a lot of miles together. He was the only salesman that was ever accepted in the shop as one of the boys. Tom liked to stop in and sample many a dish at greasy spoons along a rides course and I share his enthusiasm for that. Tom and I and a few other friends would meet at the gun range in Busch Wildlife and shoot clay birds almost every weekend in the summer and hone our shooting skills. You could almost always count on a cold drink and snack to follow. Tom went into the hospital one day for a problem with his leg and never came out. He had cancer and didn't even know it.

Three of the four died of cancer, all died much too young. One of the hardest things in life is see proud strong men wither to a weak defeated frame. Going to the hospital to say goodbye to someone that has been a major part of your own life for many years, leaves you with a sadness that lasts a long, long time. I have made that trip too many times and attended too many funerals. My greatest hope is that I measured up in their eyes because they were the best I have ever had the honor to know.

Imagination

I have always been a very private person, keeping to myself and sometimes lost in my own thoughts. As a child, I sought to create a world were I could hide from the demons in my life. I built mental walls around me, and then walls around those walls, creating, an imaginary world where my mind could take me anywhere I dreamed of. Within this world I had an imaginary friend: I named him Michael. Michael and I shared many adventures. He was the one person I could always count on to never hurt me and always be there when I needed him.

Behind our house was a stand of trees, just a few trees, but to a young boy of 6 or 7, they seemed like a vast forest. In the forest I would build a fortress out of collected junk and defend the neighborhood, with the help of Micheal, from all enemies real and imagined. In my forest, I was always a Knight, I fashioned weapons from wood and armor from tin cans and cardboard, I even had a drawbridge over a ditch. My sister, who I hated at that age, was the Maiden that needed to be defended and many battles were fought in her defense. I'm not even sure if she was aware of the danger, but she was defended none the less.

After a few years we moved to a rural area and my introverted world expanded. I now had real forests with cliffs and a creek to explore. My favorite spot though, was a draw running through our back yard. On its sides I would dig defense works for toy soldiers and dig defenses for the opposing troops on the other side. I would spend the entire day engrossed with troop movements and lobbing rocks (artillery) at the enemy. As I aged my BB gun would replace the rocks and I had more accurate artillery fire: That's how I honed my shooting skill.

It's really sad that children today sit behind a tv or computer and never have a chance to experience their own imagination. I didn't realize at the time, how fortunate I was to have mine, but now I feel blessed that I did.

Over time Michael stopped visiting and I moved on to other interests, But I never lost my imagination, and to this day, I can close out the world around me and go anywhere or be anything I want to. I think that is one of the reasons I want to sail the world, because after a Knight, I was always a Pirate.

Religion: The Root of all Evil

I will start by saying that I do believe in God, or at least in a higher power. What I do not believe in is organized religion. Organized religions have an agenda, just like companies and governments and that agenda has more to do with control and making money than saving any one's soul. So called saved Christians, are in my opinion, the worst. They run around quoting scriptures and praying for this and that while ridiculing anyone that doesn't believe in their version of religion. Jesus would be appalled at them using his name to slander other faiths and people that do not conform to their vision of what is right.

There are many more "non" Christian, Islamic,and Jewish people on this planet than the three combined and  according to their respective teachings, anyone not of their faith won't enter Heaven. I don't think that a God of any religion, who created all people, would condemn the majority of them to hell because their version of religion differs from others. To believe otherwise you must be ignorant, uneducated, or just a fool.

To enter the Kingdom of Heaven, whether your version is Valhalla, Nirvana, Elysium, Heaven or any other name; be kind, be respective of other peoples faith, be tolerant to people whose lifestyle differs from your own. You wont find God on a TV evangelical show, or in a mega church preaching salvation. You will find God within yourself, deep down, during the worst time of your life when you don't think you can continue, and suddenly you find an inner strength to carry on.

God gave us the ability to think for ourselves and the will to follow our own path, so why do many of us choose to blindly follow certain religions? Is it fear, or a desire to belong to something larger than ourselves, or is it much simpler? Is it because our forefathers believed in it and we have been indoctrinated from birth the believe the same thing? Not too long ago in our violent past, people were burned or hanged for choosing to live a life contrary to Christianity. Wars were fought; pagans were hunted and killed; lets not leave out the inquisition, where a pointed finger from a so called friend would see you burned at the stake or drowned to prove your innocence.

There are places in our world that have a spiritual presence, so to deny that that God exists would be wrong. One such place that I have visited is Bear Butte in South Dakota; It is revered by the Native Sioux as a spiritual mountain and to walk its trails will leave you without a doubt that you are not alone. There are mysteries on our planet that cant be explained, ancient long gone peoples and empty cities. Our history may be older than we think and our origins much different than believe. We may never know the truth. The Universe is vast and unending and to think that we are alone in it is simply irresponsible.

One day, I hope that people can get past their prejudices and accept people for who they are without first judging them. Until then I will continue to think for myself, make decision on how I live my life based not on some old book or the words of people I am told to believe, but on what is right and good and decent.