Cutting Corners

Cutting Corners

Usually cutting corners is a recipe for disaster. I have a note printed on the companionway hatch boards that reads “There are no shortcuts.” Every time I head outside I am reminded to refrain from the low road.

Yesterday at 1645 local, I headed the boat Northeast effectively ending my painful but oh so necessary efforts to get around the North Pacific High. I figured to cut the corner of the High and try to get east of a ridge forecast to form in the next couple of days. A shortcut if you will.

I was tortured by this decision. I hesitated. I rationalized. I went looking for excuses to continue. In the end. I turned right.

Dolphins and porpoises are said to bring good luck. I haven’t seen them at the bow for tens of thousands of miles. I have seen them nearby. And heard them through the hull. But they had always left no sooner than they arrived.

Clearing lines at the bow after dropping the spinnaker pole that I had used to support the Solent, I was greeted by this. I am not usually superstitious, but a smile broke out immediately. I pointed to one that had rolled on its side to look at me and said aloud “You! Where have you been all this time?” They wear a perpetual smile, porpoises do. This time, however, the smile seemed just for me.

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