Being Tied Up

Whenever my kids would get cold, tired, scared while sailing I would do as my father had done: we would sing! Sea chanteys, sailing songs, out of key and loudly. This always had a salutatory effect on both captain and kids.

Among the songs which remain family favorites is a Gordon Bok tune whose refrain goes:

I got an old fat boat
She’s slow but handsome
Hard in the chine
And soft in the transom

I love her well
She must love me
But I think it’s only for me money

Such is the case with Whisper. I lavish vast sums of money (by my standards) on her, give her love and attention, defend her from all insults and yet.......

Sailing Whisper, often by myself, I am reminded that if I fall overboard she would happily sail away in search of someone more well heeled to lavish his fortune on her. With the advent of self-steering you can damn well bet I’m going to stay firmly aboard and not let that shameless hussy out of my sight.

Hence I have become a devotee of the safety harness and always, when outside the cabin, am clipped in to something Whisper cannot unattach me from. This is particularly prudent given that we frequently sail miles from shore in some of the coldest waters on the planet.

I have too many sins to atone for to meet a premature, watery end.

And I’ll bet some of you thought this post was going to naughty!