A Sailor's Gratitude

Article by Brad Kurlancheek

This morning there's a few inches of snow on the ground. For the third time in the last two days I've cleaned the car off to let the glaze of ice on the glass melt. And I've brushed the snow off the boat covers, again, too. Yes, boat covers, as in plural. Everyone has a few boats in their yard, don't they?

Earlier, before that, at sunrise with warm coffee, I was reading on the Kindle, James Baldwin's Bound for Distant Seas: A Voyage Alone to Asia Aboard the 28-foot Sailboat Atom. Young Baldwin's just passed the northern edge of the band of doldrums near the equator, as he sailed slowly northwest for Hawaii. Atom had no engine. Baldwin has serious gall to try that, wouldn't you say? As a friend of mine who has no problem putting engines on sailboats might say, "He's such a purist!" Yes, and he might also be nuts. Not my friend. Mr. Baldwin.

That aside, while ghosting nowhere in the doldrums, Baldwin's enjoying the solitude and lack of movement, though now and then he wonders if he has enough food to last until Hawaii, which lies at least 1000 miles away, across the Pacific, as he inches along in his 28-foot engineless sailboat. The flour's "weevily," and barnacles crowd his boat bottom. Even so, he's a happy man.

So with Baldwin in mind, this is what I want to write about: Gratitude. Yes, I know it's not a new topic. Heck, probably enough gratitude going around for the next few eons, for all sorts of things. Here though, I want to write about gratitude as a sailor, as in, I'm grateful, to start with, for boats to do that sailing in. And for lakes and bays aplenty in this wonderful country of ours. For the right—legally and personally—to launch one's boat on most any of them, without having to get prior permission. Moreover, one need not file a sail plan with the government, nor make a reservation, or even have to check in whenever you arrive. Plus we have this law in our country known as the Navigation Protection Act that says all navigable waterways are owned by the public; moreover, navigable waterways cannot be owned by an adjoining landowner. Otherwise, you know, they would.

Gratitude...for the know-how and ability to do the sailing. For the many friends—in life and in books—who've taken the time to teach us how to sail, and are still teaching sailing to sailors, young and old, everywhere, in all walks of life. How grateful one can be for the world of sailors, in every continent, on every sea.

As sailors we are all brothers and sisters on a voyage of a lifetime. We know this innately. You see another sailboat on the waters you ply, and you can't help but feel a sense of kinship. If you get in trouble, you know you can call on them for help. If they're in need, you know it's your duty to help, and to put most every personal concern aside. That's an international unwritten law known as The Law of the Sea.

The boats outside the window this morning lie in peaceful slumber, under covers topped with fresh snow. But adventures await, soon to come, where one hopes they'll be standing on deck, raising the halyard, sailing away into the horizon, or around the fishing pier. Once more. With gratitude. •SCA•