I’m feelin’ some schooner excitement

Somewhere in my youth I fell under the spell of windjammers – vessels under full sail in the wild ocean. Those were as far away from my native Ohio as were the white-capped mountains that also caught my fancy.

Over the years, though, even as I came to know first the Pacific Northwest and later, coastal New England, I never considered actually going on an overnight windjammer cruise. Dismissed it as too expensive on our limited income. For contrast, I should note that I’ve never had any interest in an ocean-liner cruise. Zip.

But in late May, a dear friend from Vermont stopped by for a few days on his way to his annual windjammer trip on Penobscot Bay and that, well, reignited those dreams.

My wife looked at our budget and encouraged me to join him on his early autumn return. For the record, she’s declining to go too, remembering a bad seasick whale watch excursion when we were first together. No way would she venture forth for so many hours or days.

Upshot is at the end of next month buddy and I will spend the better part of a week under sail on a historic schooner exploring some famed Maine waters, especially the lighthouses along the way.

I have to admit, a windjammer should be my kind of excitement. And because my buddy grew up sailing, I’ll certainly be privy to a deep source of inside information. At least maybe I’ll have more of the terms right when I report on our adventure.

In addition, many of the classic sailing ships were built only a block or two from our house, back in the heyday of masts and canvas sails. The remaining keel of one schooner is exposed at low tide only a block or two from my house.

I’ve started counting the days till we set sail.

If you missed my latest Zoom presentation

You can catch up with my insights on “Quaker Meeting as a nest for social justness” via YouTube, thanks to West Falmouth Friends on Cape Cod.

The event, the latest of the special presentations based on my book, Quaking Dover and the New Hampshire city’s 400th anniversary, was recorded and is now available.

Many thanks to all involved.

To see what transpired during the hour, click here.

This is a clue to what really occupies my mind some days

Ten random notes in no particular order:

  1. I’m still learning to spell Katahdin.
  2. Was it a mama moose I hit that cold night on my commute back from the office, rather than a deer? Now that I’m getting to know deer, I think the collision involved something bigger.
  3. Red states? They’re where nobody really wants to live. Or at least the paying jobs.
  4. How dark the house is at night in an electrical power outage! There’s no ambient light from the street lamps or apparatus power-on buttons.
  5. Glyphs = little typographic devices.
  6. I dreamed I was playing violin again. In an orchestra, no less.
  7. How deeply backpacking as a youth shaped my values (forget efficient as a factor). It’s that travel light thing.
  8. After living in New Hampshire, I’m still not used to a sales tax.
  9. English country dance lyric, “If love were an ocean / and water was gin / I’d walk a long plank / and throw myself in.” It’s not from “Robin, Mad Robin,” is it?
  10. A voicemail message for today: “Let me a message or text me. I’ll get back.”

 

Bass Lady in action

Something I’m deeply appreciating in my new community is how much depends on people who step up in public service. One person can truly make a difference. What’s amazing us is that some individuals seem to be everywhere we turn.

Some are born and bred here. Others are high-spirited “people from away” who transform the town in unique ways while respecting is core character.

One of the newer arrivals is Joan Lowden, better known as the Bass Lady jazz host on our community radio station. She loves to give shout-outs to others, so here’s one for her.

The former Silicon Valley ventures whiz is much more than a voice. She’s an organizer, fundraiser, website consultant, active volunteer, and cheerful doer who makes things happen, often behind the scenes.

This weekend’s ArtWalk offers some fine examples.

Here Joan is at our monthly open mic event, both singing and playing bass. She’s also a key player in MICE, the Moose Island contradance band, and a welcome member of varied combos. She even starred at our Mardi Gras night at the senior center while definitely lowering the median age.

Dipping in glorious waters

I haven’t written a real poem
in at last a decade
prose, especially fiction, has taken the fore
plus relocating to a remote Maine island
do I even consider the photography

How else do you think
other than by talking to yourself even silently
or through the fingers or feet

I’ve long preferred instrumental music, abstract
or airs in languages I don’t understand
and usually forget the lyrics and lines in scores
I’ve sung in concert

So I was swimming a half-mile a day
before the pandemic but haven’t been back
in deep water, fresh or surf, indoor or out till today,
my first venture in a little-known river pooling
too rocky for laps but perfect for extending myself
in the familiar chill under a cloud-strewn afternoon sky

yes, it’s glorious and refreshing
in a way I discovered my first year after college
in hippie abandon or the New England coast
and Dover’s Olympic pool later
it’s the sunlight and breeze
stretching above, around

a call to attend to my rooting as well
in meditation, prayer, Scripture, favored poets
all as seemingly impractical