To be a sailor…

I think I have always dreamt of being one, but naivety has plagued me forever. I have never dared to contemplate the disasters that could occur. And if they do arise, I push them back down.

The open air. The vast sea. The freedom.

Whether or not I ever actually partake, these sentiments are the same that nudge real sailors to sail.

Moitessier, the one-man, French crew, embarked on a Round the World Race for single-handed yachts. He rounded all three capes and was to head back to Plymouth, England when he decided… not to.

I cannot for the life of me figure out what year this was. Moitessier died in 1994, and the book was published in 1995. But I guess it doesn’t really matter. Whatever year it was, there were no means to communicate quickly to anyone back home. He left his wife and kids for nearly a year.

The difficulties in that alone or worthy of tremendous respect. Or criticism. I’m still not sure which, but I ended my mid-life crisis reading material with The Long Way.

I dare say it was the better of the three.

While I consider whether this free-spirited man deserves Knighthood or Capital Punishment by Death Stare, I hang on to these words of his the most:

“Suddenly, I thought very hard of my children. We had often talked about the voyage. Had I been able to make them understand, in those days when technical preparations called for all my mental and physical resources? I think they felt the essential, and will know enough to obey their own inner voices.”

I’m leaning towards time served.