She’s just ecstatic. Plans to hire a tutor to learn the rudiments of celestial navigation, for the fun of it, as well as how to rig and tend an automatic pilot for nights. I’ve read a list of the equipment he has for emergencies on and off the boat, and it seems to be more than adequate for all personal and boat emergencies including sinking. Includes emergency electronics and de-salinators.

As an aside, I just spent three days at her place on Hood Canal. She has a house on a secluded spit which sticks out a ways. There is a sea wall, 4 feet high, then a gravelly beach maybe 6 feet wide at low tide. At high tide the ocean comes up and touches the wall. Maybe about a foot up at some tides.

At low tide some of the oyster beds are exposed. At high tide, maybe 2 feet under water. The beds form a band about 5 feet wide and 100 feet long in front of her place. All oysters, with clams under them and under the sand. For the plucking. Oyster after oyster after oyster.

I used one of those grabber things from Harbor Freight, waded out about knee deep and had a feast. An absolute feast. Ate my fill and then ate until I’m tired feast.

I love oysters (and razor clams, but none of those here). Like hanging out in a candy store, it is. And I have an open invitation including all the numbers and a letter to caretakers, neighbors and so on if she’s off somewhere.

She has a 20-something power boat, small catamaran, dinghy, and 4 kayaks laying around the place, as well as a Polaris ATV dedicated to the task of launching them from various trailers. So at least she knows something about the water and claims no knowledge of deep-water sailing.

But yes, I did see your post on OT and was planning to reply (with nothing as childish as I did here). Many years ago while acquiring a BFA in production design, I did 3 years of film history at university. What you describe on OT, the matter of actor’s delivery, is a popular topic of late-night discussion in film geekdom.

And it is for sale, $600. plus shipping.

I’m never going voyaging again, and if I should, I won’t be navigating, and if I were, I’d buy a GPS and have change left over.

But I’m afraid I’m not her man. I’m all tired out. Used up. Not physically (or at least not entirely, not yet). But mentally, spiritually, emotionally. I’m worn out, faded away, blown out on the trail. I need to rest. No inspirational or motivational sermons, please, I’m self-critical enough already, I don’t need any external help.

Tell the lady my sextant is for sale, and I’ll throw in some free lessons. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do for her.

I started out and harvested some oysters. Brought ‘em back and threw them on the grill. Low heat.

I waded out again, harvested some more, traded the warm oysters for the fresher ones, and ate the cooked ones. And kept doing it.

I am amazed at how many oysters a person can eat when they are free and there’s nothing else to do. I didn’t get full, bored, embarrassed or anything. I ate until I was tired. Then off to bed with a good book.

All free. Did replace some of the sauces I used.

TB, I remember times such as that and realize I have to be one of the luckiest people alive. More for the people who let me do things like that than the event, but the event is pretty damned good, too.

(And, SOB, I could head up there right now, stay in my van should I choose, and hustle oysters and clams. I forgot that’s available. She even has wifi. Double SOB!)