Out of Gas
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Out of Gas

Out of Gas

Out of Gas

I feel like it’s been 15 rounds with Rocky and the judge’s decision has not gone my way. Below, I can tell the swell remains but the wind has turned to whispers. The faint, comforting sounds of the Seaburban slipping through the water are absent and have been replaced by the slaps and bangs of the the waves that remain after yesterday’s blow. The Solent, stable in all but zephyrs, shakes the entire rig.

I am out of gas and not looking forward to another 18 hours of nothing. As per the computer models, the wind has all but evaporated. John has been forecasting this patch for days now. I have been hoping against hope it doesn’t happen. The wind is gone, and I struggle with hope.

And then this. I come on deck to this. How can one feel sorry for oneself with this. To starboard, my companion and now confidante, rests an Albatross. The others wheel in the sky in what must be a Herculean task for I never see them successful. My inconsequential troubles melt away. The clouds, first a smokey gray, quickly brighten as if they too have been healed by the sun. How quickly my sorrowful cloak of woes is cast off comes as a surprise.

How lucky am I? How privileged can I be to have all this to myself when most, like the birds about me, are looking for their next meal and praying for shelter.

The day is yet full of promise. The silver linings shining above and all do not deceive. It is up to me, and no one else, to make a day of it. As it must be for all, even my witness floating off to starboard.

(Side note from Shoreteam: Bert has been feeling the loneliness of being at sea these past 5 months with 2 to go. If you want to send Bert a motivational email or have question about his journey, please send him an email at svseaburban@myiridium.net. He would love to hear from his followers!)

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