I closed my account
so check this shit out, ill give you the dramatic tale of a solo train rider, tweeker. A wandering idiot that one day got in late march got the bright idea of visiting an island 12 miles off the coast of cape cod. yes, im that idiot. 5 months ago, after an extended trip in th that meth life shit i got it into my addled brain to go to penikese, how do i get there, rent a boat? 900 bucks, who the fuck has that? what about buy a boat? ok. power boats aint cheap, im sure as fuck not rowing this. woods hole, serious business you dont row these waters like that. sailboat. and them boom it hit me. FUCKING PIRATE! had this epifany while riding the highline solo and in a state of hypothermia 12 hours after the beer ran dry. after a brief sojourn in illinois i headed east. after all these yewars i traveled back to mass. been all over, never traveled back tho. so i went to my home town, had my first fight in 8 years. legit, i was in town 2 hours and had to beat a violent drunk to the ground. fucking massholes, the worst. i head to the cape and am welcomed by a couple of great old friends that have an association with the island. witch was formerly a school for teenage boys with "difficulties" when it came to respecting authority. rthats how i was introduced to the place when i was 16. shortly after my father stepped infront of a train. these people got me through it. i have my life to thank for them. so its a peacefull place of healing. i need that now in my life. so i went to the library and read about sailing non-stop. i shopped for boats and boating jobs, i never touched dope, and i got a fucking job. on the cape. not just any job, i am on the water daily. i do moorings (boat parking spots) and the worlds greatest people hired me. not only have i bought my boat a 76 pearson ariel 26ft. but i have a place to keep it on the water, that is the biggest problem with having a boat. where the fuck do i keep it. i struck gold. i have a slip where i work. 6 weeks after i was hired i caught a ride up to salem with the skipper (a living legend), he dropped me and my first mate off and i hander an old dude named brad 1500 bucks for the Cayo. i fucking cried when the old owner left the boat. in no time at all i had bought a sailboat and jay and i motored her out of salem harbor. that was the first time i have ever set foot on a sailboat that was on the water. the first trip was a trip. day one mostly we motored, but did raise saill and fumble along trying to figure out this sailing thing. but it was foggy and i had to navigate by landmarks i know and a vague idea of where the places are in a land i lived in 15 years ago and only ever saw from land. i did it though. the weather was shit but we sailed south past boston, i took a lucky guess at the deer island shit processing plant, i saw the high tension towers i used to climb as a kid, my moms home town, my aunts house, and made it to scituate harbor where i had a slip reserved. as i docked i hit a very expensive gofast boat. not kidding. we are brand new at this point btw. two poor sailpunks jay and dave went out to a nice steak dinner and several rounds at the bar after. thats when we learned from a nice old lady about the cape cod canal. so the next day we motor off, it was a sunny day with seas of glass, good beer and music, this is the life. so the thing about this canal is the heavy tidal ebbs. the canal is not natural and the tidal shifts between the two connected bays are different. that makes passage for under powered crafts dangerous at times. and at that point we werent sure when those times were or what the word ebb meant exactly. so we got a slip. and once again rubbed elbows at yaght clubs with fine white boating people. just for a reference to the humor in this undertaking ill describe us. jay is a young Jamaican man here to work for the summer earning money for his college tuition back home. he is well mannered and dressed. and i am a dreadheaded dirty kid in his middle 30s. so, we drinkin at the yaght club and who shows up but the skipper. no shit in skip all smiles and scotchs. well met sir. (skip is a jolly old man jay and i find very funny and fun to be around) so he steps on my boat for the firts time and says holy moly what a piece of shit! yup it true she aint perfect. anyway we all drink and get cut off. the next day jay and i ride the current through the canal having been informed when to do so as to not be pulled backwards into a bridge abutment.and we were moving right along minding our own business up and outta nowhere we ran into a little place called woods hole. heres a hint when boating. whenever you look at a chart and you see a particular place magnified, and you are going to said place, be fucking aware of your of exactly what you are do and when to do it. we didnt know about the current. the knot ommeter showed 6 knots but we wernt moving with the little motor at full throttle. this was dangerous. unspeakable things happened to my boat. we were afraid. but we made it. less than a mile away from the hole incident the winds pick up, we decide to raise our spirits by raising our sails. warning. when the weather reports say a few isolated thuderstorms, it could be that you are in one of those few isolated places. we were knocked down. this is no joke and it was terrifying. i cant describe the soude sails make as the wind whip them into the ocean 1000 times a minute. it was a hard day but we made it home to port. 3 days, total beginners, and we did it. now im still working, the boat has been named Happy Adventure and the art has already begun on her. im sailing every day, around sailors everyday, and reading about this shit every day. and in about a month ill be heading sough fully outfitted with charts and provisions. the simple mistakes i made a couple of weeks ago were good lessons and im learning daily. this shit is rad. thats my story, im going sailing. peace.