Bubba's Boat Diaries (#3)

Saturday 11-3-2012

Gustavia/Saint Bartholomew

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=17.904,+-62.857&hl=en&ll=17.904017,-62.856989&spn=0.043859,0.084543&sll=17.893317,-62.827892&sspn=0.087723,0.169086&t=h&z=14

 Arrival at Gustavia uneventful after sailing about 6o mins from Ile Fourchue.  Captured a mooring ball, then Captain Dave took all passports to customs.  While awaiting clearance, a yellow flag is flown and the vessel considered under quarantine.  Nobody is allowed ashore.  The crew chowed down while waiting on the return of Captain Dave.  Once cleared with entry fees paid, we are required to fly the French flag as proof we have cleared customs.  If questioned onshore, we must name Cutter Cat as our entry point.

 These photos taken on ship shortly after our arrival.  The planes were going right over our head, thru this small mountain pass.  It is hard to see in the photos but there are wind socks on each side of the pass.  Sometimes the socks pointed in different directions, showing the swirl created as the wind passes over the hills.

A contingent of us headed into Gustavia on Cutter Kitty for some shopping and such.  Gustavia is French West Indies.  Local language thus is French, and the currency the Euro...but nearly all speak English and everyone takes the great American dollar!  Still best to use credit card to prevent any locals from being funny with the exchange rate.  Bubba only scored a couple of Cuban cigars, but we did return with ice & other provisions.  Always an adventure on Cutter Kitty to safely transport not just the crew but purchases.

Dinner of quiche, soup, and one awesome fresh fruit dessert created by Deb G....after which we all crashed.  Bubba was down by 2200!!

Sundays plan is short voyage to Anse De Columbier.  This is a national part at the north end of the island.  Word is that since parks took over, the turtles have returned.  Hoping the rumors are true.

Sunday 11/4/2012  Anse De Columbier

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=17.9258,+-62.8702&hl=en&ll=17.921127,-62.866473&spn=0.021927,0.042272&sll=17.922944,-62.868555&sspn=0.010964,0.021136&t=h&z=15

Wind direction out of Gustavia provided opportunity to sail out a bit, tacking back inbound to Columbier.  Other voyages thus far have been fairly much set and go, with only minor adjusts to the genoa sail for tack.  Bubba joined Captain Dave at the helm for most of this voyage, trying to learn more navigation & sailing skills.

Seas were 3 to 5 foot swells with some larger.  We took a couple of really big dives over some larger swells which was kind of cool.  Bubbalicious rode this voyage laying in the stern.  Without the patch she probably would not be doing so well on this particular journey.  Good news is that once we anchor or moor, recovery is pretty rapid.

Back to the voyage, we learned some things about tacking that will prove valuable on our planned long voyage tomorrow.

Moored at Columbier, snorkeling began in short order.  Plan was for an hour of so of snorkel, lunch, then snorkel some more.  Island time however disrupts all plans, best not to make too many.

Starfish all over the bottom around our boat as we swim towards the shore and more shallow snorkeling waters.  Abundant sea life all around makes for loss of time.  Together with Bubbalicious we snorkel our way to the beach.  Columbier is a nature preserve, so this is a very clean and quiet place.  We are moored in a 3 sided harbor surrounded by cliffs similar to Ile Fourchue.  At the beach are stone steps leading up the cliff to a trail at the top.  We climbed these stairs to the top to be utterly astounded at the view provided.  The cliff overlooks the seas on the other side with views of the houses & villages of Gustavia, Ile Chevreau, and I. Fregate.  The waves crashing on the rocks of this harbor make it inaccessible by boat but are just awesome to watch and hear.  And, we have no camera because we snorkeled in!

We snorkeled back Cutter Cat, the rest of our crew trickles in as well.  The intent was lunch and more snorkeling, but reality is lunch and naps for nearly all!  After naps, Deb, Reese, Bubba, and Bubbalicious take Cutter Kitty ashore, this time with cameras and walking shoes.  Some great pics from this inland trip.  Another important item from this excursion, Bubba needs more practice driving Cutter Kitty....having not operated a john-boat in many years.  Not well executed but safely back to voyage another day.

View from the top, looking left

Bubba and Bubbalicious provide bourbon marinated salmon, almond couscous, and sauteed green beans for the meal...after all crew enjoyed one awesome sunset.  This one may have been the best sunset view to date on this trip.

After dinner we load up Cutter Kitty and journey over to the Muscade for cocktails.  Jose Cuervo makes this trip, where he found plenty of sliced fresh lime & salt awaiting his arrival.  Captain Bruce distributed matching shirts to the crew of both vessels in honor of our journeys this far.

View from the top, looking right

Deb and Reese

After cocktail hour we again end up on the tram in the darkness gazing at the stars.  No longer a full moon, along with less clouds, make this the best night yet.  Bubba wishes he could recall his astro-nerd days and identify constellations but has to settle for just enjoying the beauty of it all.  Despite all this activity, and with afternoon naps, the crew is berthed by 22:30!

Sunday morning Bubba's watch has dropped  an hour, no longer be daylight savings time back in the real world.  No extra sleep here!

Bubba and Bubbalicious at the top

Voyage today expected to be longest yet with plans to sail back around St. Martin to the Anguilla side of the island.  This to position us for visit to Anguilla in the days following.  Hopefully some calmer seas, favorable winds, and a great voyage.

Bubbas Boat Diaries (2)

Actual action photo the morning of 11/1/12, Bubba making more entries.  We are anchored in Orient Bay, Saint Martin.  https://maps.google.com/maps?q=18.05060,-63.0081&hl=en&ll=18.049582,-63.007493&spn=0.021911,0.042272&sll=18.106575,-63.021097&sspn=0.010952,0.021136&t=k&z=15

Wednesday 11/1/12

Mediation of the Captains, analysis of wind forecasts, and desire of crew to seek out Halloween festivities cancels planned voyage to St. Barts.  We instead motored across Orient Harbot to Orient Beach.

Arrival at Orient Beach lead to an extensive lesson in anchorage.  Bubba learns we don't just drop anchor.  The anchor must sink into the sand (without a rock base or clay underneath).  Once the anchor sets, the right amount of chain must extend for the depth, then the bridle is attached so the hull takes the stress of the pull and not the anchor chain.  Some good 1500 to 1600 RPM reverses to make certain the anchor ha set.  Then, a visual, as in swim out and double check from above.  This exercise took the better part of an hour.

Tuna salad lunch, then loaded up Cutter Kitty for a trip to Orient Beach to shop and hang out on the beach.  The natives will not leave you alone in their shops.  We are swarmed and offered bargains and or bartering on everything touched.  Bubbalicious got some stuff for herself and our babies.

Did Bubba mention as we walked to the shops, there is a big sign of welcome, along with a warning that nudity is prohibited?   Yes, Orient Beach is a nude resort.

 Feeling kinda awkward strolling down the beach with trunks on, Bubba found a spot for his towel and proceeded to get naked and free.  Not wanting to be left out, of course Bubbalicious had to peel off her suit also.  As much as Bubba likes the swimsuits Bubbalicious brought on the trip, he sure liked her as she was on the towel next to him.  There is something about a skinny dip that is quite liberating.  Bubba looking forward to St Barts at this point for this reason.  Bubba's tan lines caused one of the all tanned regulars to come visit us.  "Congratulations!  You cruise ship folks never come down here!"  Bubba informed the all tanned one that our cruise ship was anchored just off the beach.  "Oh!" was his only reply.

Our agreed upon rendezvous time for Cutter Kitty rescue arrived.  We could see Capt Dave coming since our ship was anchored in our view.  We all embarked into Cutter Kitty only to have a rouge wave swamp the dingy, depositing a bunch of water and kicking us sideways.  Too much water for the voyage, we had to disembark, pull the dingy to the beach, and drain the water. Second attempt successful and we returned to the ship.  The preceding sounds simple and dry, but, if you had witnessed the above crew and event, you would have laughed your ass off.  We did!

Back on ship for showers, dinner, and costume party.  All our wenches (including Bubbalicious) transformed into Biker Bitches with the men as Bikers.  A wonderful dinner of sis kabob a la Rhett and Kelly set the stage for a wonderful evening.  The crew from the Muscade skow, er, ship, came to party with us.

Following the festivities, all ended up on the tram in the quiet of the full moon (PERFECT for Halloween), sea breeze, and star gazing.  Of course some fell asleep (including Bubba), but it is just simply awesome to lay there in the still of the night and see the bounteous sky above.

Our Thursday plan to sail to St Barts, to anchor or moor at Ile Fourche, a small private island just NW of St Barts.  Expecting some great snorkels after a hopefully awesome 3 to 4 hour sailing voyage.

Friday 11/2/12  Ile Fourche

Voyage to Ile Fourche proved to be the first true sailing of the trip.  Only 12 nautical miles to cover over open sea, the captains were indeed accurate on the exceptionally favorable winds.  What was anticipated as a 3 or 4 hour sail ended up a bit over 2 hours.  The shortened voyage was a blessing because of 3 to 5 foot swells.  Like the old Bugs Bunny, "the boat was wocking and wocking."  Bubba struggled a bit but found serious solace on the tram.  Under the shade of the genoa, with water occasionally (actually, often) splashing thru the mesh as coolant, the motion of the ship was again like a big rocking chair or hammock.  No sounds save the crashing ocean, flapping sails, and the wind led Bubba to a stress level lower than ever.  Bubba never sees such a place back in the real world.

Leaving the serenity of the tram changes the preceding depiction significantly.  Exiting the tram means sitting up, then butt crawling to a hand hold.  No step taken in these seas without a hand hold.  The helm is one place where the motion lessens, but, other than the tram, that is it.  There is even a strap that will hold a cook close to the stove in these seas.  Not that any of this crew would attempt such a feat.

Bubba again had holding tank duty, requiring about 5 mins below deck.  NOT A HAPPY PLACE with the ship rocking like this, and no air conditioning under sail.  

About 2/3 of the way to Ile Fourche, Bubbalicious could not hold it any longer and had to potty.  She was forewarned that below deck was not a happy place but ventured anyway.  Back above deck she really had to fight the sea sickness, but breakfast stayed down!  She also discovered laying on the tram as a place to avoid the sea sickness.

We found an excellent mooring ball about 13:30, midway between the beach and 2 excellent snorkeling locations (starboard and port).  there is a relatively new wrecked catamaran beached off our stern on the starboard side.  The cliffs go right into the water with no beach on either side.  Under this water are tons of boulders and rocks that have formed coral reefs teeming with life.  We snorkeled for hours and realized we failed to bring an underwater camera like on our Cayman trip.  Bubba will certainly buy one at our next civilized stop.  Not having pics of these snorkel areas is a crime.  Spotted yesterday more fish types than can list, sea urchins (big white ones), one small male sting ray and one HUGE female ray, at least as big as our deck table (which by the way, all 8 of us eat together here), and a small 3 or 4 foot nurse shark.

An evening meal of grilled burgers after one gorgeous sunset led to more time on the tram in the darkness.

This harbor has zero ambient light as Ile Fourche is uninhabited.  We are also anchored in this harbor surrounded by mountains on 3 sides so it was DARK.  The star gazing was fabulous, including very visible Milky Way and several meteors.  Included as a finale was an awesome moon rise over the mountain to a nearly full moon.  Incredible!

Friday's plan is short voyage to Gustavia (St Barts).  Chart suggests 5 to 6 miles, not sure if we will sail or motor.  Captain wants to sail and not sure I want to argue.  There is something peaceful about nothing but the sound of wind and flapping sails compared to the hum of the diesels.  We ain't in any hurry anyway...riding on island time!

   

Bubba's Boat Diaries (Installment 1)

So, those what know me know I took a 2 week vacation this year with my favorite girl in the whole world (aka my wife).  The vacation was nothing short of fantastic and there are many Facebook photos posted to share.  What has been unknown to this point was a hand written journal that will be shared in a few installments here.  Journal is written with horrible composition skills...alternating between 1st and 3rd person narratives, depending on the mood of the day.  I made it a point to record in the journal every morning with coffee and conversation with whoever else was up, usually Captain Dave, first mate Deb (his wife), and occasionally others.  Position reports are wherever we happened to be moored or anchored at the time the journal entry was made.

The wife and I were the Southern Youth Contingent on this voyage.  Save for one other traveler, we were the babies of the trip at sub 5 decades of age. Given we were the Southerners, and that wife often refers to me as Bubba, I borrowed this nickname + a nickname for the wife from the comedian T Bubba Bechtol...who refers to his beloved as Bubbalicious.  It just seemed appropriate for this trip.

I wish to publish said journals here.  Most will find it boring, some may find it mildly entertaining, but here goes, transcribed from handwritten notes beginning on USAir flight 1560 from Charlotte to Princess Juliana Airport, Sint Marteen, on 10/29/12. But, if you have read this far, why stop now?

10/29/12

Just sit right back and hear a tale
A tale of a little boat trip
That started from St Martin port
Aboard a sailing ship
A bunch of Yankee sailing crew
Except of course for 2
Set sail one day on a 8 day tour

If you hear a tune in your head it shows your age.  See blog Funk 49.

Well, being one of 2 Southerners somebody had to be Bubba.  Guess I win by defualt.  With accolades and credit to T Bubba Bechtol (comedian), Princess has to be Bubbalicious.  

After a long delay on the ground in Charlotte, we are at last on our way.  Clouds broke near Columbia and could see the home town Columbia Metro, downtown, and Williams Brice stadium.  Still a bit turbulent and writing messy.

Time out for now.  By George, I think it is 5 o'clock somewhere (despite that my watch says 1145).  More later. 
.....

Landed over the famous beach at St. Martin.  But, due to our late arrival could not work out a visit.  Thank you Hurricane Sandy [BITCH].
....

Luggage loaded and taxi driver Miguel managed to deliver us to base safely despite all efforts to not do so.  Bubba and the others tipped him, not for tradition, but for not running into any other cars, people, buildings, children, construction equipment, or rolling us off the mountain.

The rest of the afternoon spent unpacking & stocking our ship (Cutter Cat).  Our companion ship is the Muscade, led by Captain Bruce Reheer.  Putting away food & clothes so that things don't shift when underway was not hard but there are 8 of us and it took some time.  Our captain Dave Garland gave us a working tour of our ship:  latching doors, water, toilets, showers, etc.  Having never been on a ship like this, Bubba had much to learn.

Our berth is not as big as the wide lens promo pics but has plenty of storage and the bed is a bit bigger than a queen and works well...though we have to slide on/off from the rear.  Operation of the toilets at night alerts everyone, pumps make some noise.  Bubba's regular night toilet visits go without a flush.

The long delay mentioned in the journal was courtesy of an air traffic control outage at the air route control centers in the Northeast, courtesy of Hurricane Sandy (Bitch).  We boarded and taxied out, only to be detained on the aircraft for nearly 90 minutes.  

The working tour of the ship by Captain Dave was more important than the journal implies.  Making certain doors and all loose items are properly secured is important, otherwise the cabin will get torn apart by slamming doors and items slamming around from the motion of the ocean waves.  Within a day or so, our crew could secure the vessel for voyage in a matter of minutes, everyone took responsibility for their berths, and we divvied up other above deck tasks under direction of Captain Dave. 

10/30/12

A really nice albeit humid morning.  Bubblicious and Bubba are first up but not smart enough to work the coffee percolator.  Captains and probably Reese go to chart briefing at 0900.  We will take on some water and ice, then, hopefully be under way by lunch.

We plan to go to Orient Bay on the French side.  Should be 3 hour or so sailing time depending on the breeze.  Word on the street is Bubba may not have to wear clothes.  Could be a way to have beach alone by scaring everyone away.

We were still at base when the above was written.  The captains were required to attend chart briefing before allowed to take vessels from base.   We were able to set sail around 1300 or so this day.  We purposely took the boats out to sea a bit so the crew could learn some sailing skills.  It was nice to get away from base and into the breeze as the humidity at base dock was vicious. 

10/31/12  (18.06.24 N / 63.01.06 W) Orient Bay St Martin

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=%2B18%C2%B0+06%27+24.00%22,+-63%C2%B0+01%27+06.00%22&hl=en&ie=UTF8&ll=18.106575,-63.021097&spn=0.010952,0.021136&sll=38.573333,-109.549167&sspn=0.072069,0.169086&t=k&z=16 

 Some sail practice on Monday--Bubba and Rhett had some things to learn as Reese and (obviously) Captain Dave know what is going on.  Work, but fun work.  Once wind is captured and optimal, an auto pilot device keeps the genoa sail optimized for wind capture.  Seas were more rolling than expected but not nauseating at all.  Having said thus, going below deck with no a/c and that gentle rolling action did challenge Bubba a bit.  Bubbalicious put on a sea sick patch for precautionary reasons.

After tooling around a bit we land at Orient Bay across from Yellow Beach on Pinel Island.  Vessel secured, we load up dingy now officially named Cutter Kitty.  Cutter Kitty takes us to snorkeling trail near Yellow Beach.  Snorkeling OK but water not as clear as trip to Cayman....thank you Hurricane Sandy (Bitch).  Kitty is a bit difficult for Bubba to enter from the water but strong arms of friends keep Bubba from having to swim back to ship.

Bubbalicious did not become freinds with all the jelly fish.  Bubba was not a big fan either.  Some pretty cool coral formations, lots of angel fish, and various sized needle fish all over the place.  A few large conch shells were on the bottom but Bubba did not make the 8 foot or so dive to retrieve.

After snorkeling some down time on Yellow Beach.  We went there after letting all the cruise ship and motel tourists vacate the place for the most part.  A few families remained but for the most part the beach belonged to our crew.  The restaurant was keeping lobsters in cages just under the water, some big ass creatures.  Lobsters in this part of the world have no claws and can be quite large.  They can be grabbed while snorkeling, not that Bubba would do that.

Cutter Kitty returns us to shop for (much needed) showers, clean clothes, rum drinks, appetizers, and steak dinner.  Bubba tried his black strap rum & coke first, before switching to pain killers with the rest of the crew.  Appetizers & dinner made for full tummies, preventing alcohol from causing true Bubba to escape.

In the darkness on the trampoline, the boat moored in front of us had lights in the water below the catamarans.  The lights attracted fish which put on quite a show of eat or be eaten.  Bubba ended up laying on the tram enjoying a cool ocean breeze, staring at a full moon sky and unbelievably beautiful stars.

Bubba fell asleep on the tram and would have remained so had not Deb roused him.  Bubba retired to his berth with Bubbalicious already soundly dozing.  It was nice listening to the waves lapping under the ship, gently rocking us to sleep.  At the mooring ball, the ship rocks lightly like a hammock, making for some very restful sleep that Bubbalicious still enjoys as I write this.

Are we old?  All of the evening described above was over by 2200 hours!!  that 5th decade must be approaching sooner than expected.

Destination plan for 10-31 = St. Barts.  Expecting a good 3 hour or so sail with favorable winds and gentle seas.  Captain Dave says our travel should be "with the waves" based on current wind forecasts.

End of installment 1.

To All You Mothers Out There...Happy Father's Day

As a youngster, at the the boat drag races at Carolina Marina on Belews Lake, the announcer started the races on Father's Day weekend with the title of this post.  However, it was more of a crudity "...to all you muthas out there" on that day long ago.

There will be a kazillion blog posts, facebook posts, and pulpit diatribes spewed forth Father's Day in honor of Fathers everywhere.   I have a different take.

I heard a comic routine this week that informed the audience that we should respect and love women.  Women, the comic stated, have a Full Reproductive Set installed.  Men, however, possess only a Starter Kit. Underlying all humor is some basis in truth.  This one no different.

Unfortunately in our current culture, there are way too many males that have done nothing other than use the Starter Kit and move on.  The choice of the word male in the last sentence is important.  Most any male can initiate further propagation of our species.  These males are nothing but sperm donors, not Men, not Fathers.

Real Men become Fathers, taking responsibility for the life they helped start, hopefully building a loving relationship with the Women that bear and bring forth the children.  Even in those unfortunate situations where marriage fails and/or a loving home are not present, Men can still be Fathers, taking responsibility for the nurture and love of the children created with said Starter Kit.

The opportunity presented to me 23 years ago this past weekend.  A second opp followed 4 years 4 months later.  My Princess birthed the greatest blessings ever in my life, our daughters.  I consider myself a Father.  Maybe not the perfect example, far removed from the best example, but I have a great marriage and 2 of the most wonderful daughters ever...if not the the best (accept my prejudice here). 

Without our ladies, there would be no Fathers.  If you fit the description of Starter Kit Sperm Donor, I encourage you to look within your soul for the strength to become a Father.  Accepting that a relationship may not be possible with the mother of your children, try.  At the least, civility, cooperation, and understanding. Try. 

We would not have the opportunity to be Fathers without Mothers.  I am humble that my wife chose to carry my daughters to life in our world.  For those that understand all this...

To All You Mothers Out There...Happy Father's Day!!!  (and THANK YOU for what you have given us).

Welcome Home!!

A few weeks ago, I posted a blog essay I named Standing Tall, about a young United States Marine I have never met.  A thin connection to my childhood neighbor and his family was and is the link.  For reasons I cannot explain, I remain moved by his story.

Some digression, perhaps intermingled with thoughts from that earlier post.

I still struggle to grasp the volunteer nature of the service these men and women provide to me, my family, you the reader, your family, and our country and society as a whole.  Previous wars and conflicts sometimes involved compulsory draft service.  Yet, we know even in draft situations there were many that volunteered, some even lying about their age to do so (like in World War 2), putting themselves in harm's way so some fat slob like me can type on a laptop in peace and security.  The draft ended years ago, yet, our country still meets recruitment goals and then some...with an active war zone in place.  

In fairness, give credit here to those non military men and women like police and fire fighters compromising their personal safety in public service to us daily.  It is not just our Military.  Very close to my local geography, 2 police officers were recently killed in the line of duty in a very short period of time.  Even a police dog gave the ultimate sacrifice during this period!! 

War zone or protecting a neighborhood, the ultimate sacrifice IS the ultimate sacrifice.

That can never be taken back.

And they volunteer for this?

The wounds and maimings of such service often cannot be taken back either.  At places like Walter Reed, the best healers and researchers continue exploring and implementing ways to heal and provide prosthesis to our many wounded warriors.  The United States Marine I wrote about a few weeks ago is wrapped in the care of such a place.  More so, this Marine is wrapped in the love of his young wife, family, and who knows how many layers of prayer?  (From the postings, it is A LOT of prayer. Me included).

By now if the reader wonders regarding these musings, through the miracle (curse?) of Facebook, I can report this Marine is Home.  From the Facebook post inspiring this blog:

"We have come so far in such a short month. All the doctors are in shock at how fast...is healing and how independent he already is. They call the date of your injury your "Alive Day" around here, and at first I thought that was ridiculous. But one month ago today...fought to stay alive, he fought to come home to me, and he got a second chance at life."

Obviously for reasons of privacy names are removed.  Yet, the story could be generic repetitive of the many volunteer soldiers that avoided the ultimate sacrifice....getting an "ALIVE DAY" to come home, in pieces, like the inspiration for this essay, but, alive and home.

Continue to thank Those that serve us, pray for them, help when you can, by the means you can.  

We civilians can never repay this debt.  But, try!

Numbering of Days

Our local paper randomly publishes articles from a blog by Rabbi Marc Wilson from Greenville, SC.  This weekend's publish from the Rabbi was actually from a blog he posted back in February.  I linked to it on my Facebook page earlier but few hits from the stalkers out there.  People are moved by different things I suppose.

http://marcmusing.blogspot.com/2012/02/teach-us-to-number-our-days.html?spref=fb

Assuming the link works, if you read this, you can read Rabbi Marc Wilson's post as background.  The Rabbi was moved observing Alzheimer's patients while visiting hospice for his mother in law.  Unfortunately, he worries that he may also face an Alzheimer future, given occurrences already in his immediate family.

From the Rabbi Wilson's post:

"Call me narcissistic, but having passed midlife, I do not so much think instinctively of the grief I might suffer at the illness of others. Instead, I have found myself increasingly contemplating how my own possible appointment with Alzheimer's might look. After all, my father and two grandfathers were senile by age 70, just a scant eight years away."

Alzheimer's is not even on my radar screen right now (knock on wood).  Yet, the Rabbi's blog still speaks to me in as the lead digit of my age changes to 5 less than 300 days from this post.  

What is the deal?  I remember graduating high school and college, now, I gaze in astonishment at the most wondrous things ever given me, my daughters, one already out of college and one graduating high school this year.  It just does not seem that it was over 30 years ago Princess and I walked out of WGHS stadium as graduates, but, time marches on and here we are.  Too many memories to list.  Some good, some not so good, some proud moments, and yes some wishing there were such things as a "do over."  Nothing unique here, I am no different than anyone else in this regard.  Being human I suppose.

Yet, here I am staring at this upcoming digit change, remembering parents, in-laws, friends, acquaintances transitioning to five oh over the years.  My Dad died at the ripe young age of 59, the anniversary of his death just a few weeks ago.  He died on a leap year so every 4 years or so the anniversary of his death is more noticeable to me.  My great friend's Dad also died suddenly sub-60 also.  Now, I stare five oh in the face and wonder what the next 9 years will bring me.  Or, will there be another 9 years?  Things look much different when one crests this life summit and looks at the other half of our finite existence.

Quoting again from Rabbi Wilson:

"I know what you will tell me: Cherish my days and use them wisely, you would admonish me. Show love and share wisdom before it is too late. Try not to contemplate eventualities over which you have no control. Look positively toward the future. And, of course, you would be right."

I have to agree wholeheartedly with the Rabbi at this point.

I was taught that a good essay should have great intro, valid and succinct arguments, and a great closing.  An intro I have here, but, no arguments, only commentary and questions.  There is no closing, this post purposely left open ended because I know not what tomorrow brings.  Nobody does, except Him.

Hopefully, more than 9 years of sand remain in God's hourglass for Lemmy. Trying to make the best of whatever does remain in the hourglass...taking the advice of Rabbi Wilson.

Standing Tall

I have been on Facebook more often this past week.  Like so many others, I reconnected with various college, high school and childhood friends through the Facebook medium.   My next door neighbor growing up is one of those people.  We we ran with different friends in high school, attended different colleges, both moving on with our lives.  I have only seen him in person at high school reunions.  Still, it has been kind of cool to see the Facebook updates of his life, along with the lives of other acquaintances from the past.  

Until this week.

This past week, my childhood friend and neighbor posted something that I have struggled to shake off.   The husband of his niece (daughter of his older sister), a United States Marine, lost his legs to an IED in Afghanistan.  This Marine made the journey to Walter Reed this week and as I compose this blog, there have been on other updates.  But I know that prayers of support for this young Marine's wife, family, transporters, doctors (this list is endless) fill a cup overflowing. And I know that our doctors and therapists at Walter Reed will provide this Marine with world class care and rehabilitation.

I do not know this Marine, his wife, or anything other than his relation to my childhood neighbor.  Yet, something says it is not anonymous, and I do not yet understand why so.  These young men and women volunteer for duty in our armed forces.  Volunteering in a time of conflict, with desire to tour the front lines, is something Lemmy's self preservation brain fails to grasp.  Yet, these men and women do volunteer, and continue to volunteer.  Because they volunteer, we live our daily stateside lives without fear of attack...there will be no IED encounter on my way to work tomorrow....or yours, or your neighbors. 

Saying "thank you for your service" while it is right, just does not seem like enough any more.  Frankly, I am not sure what does just yet.  Something I will ponder for some time.

Like thousands of other US soldiers, this Marine has given something to our country, our safety, and our way of life, that we can never give back.  

Like so many Soldiers and Guardsman that have returned (and unfortunately, continue returning) from Iraq and Afghanistan, this young Marine, now with no legs, stands tall.

Taller than I will ever be able to stand.