Two more years went by and I was able to maintain a pretty dry bilge, other than the aforementioned “leaks” of course. I was, however, watching a small squall begin to build on the horizon. My wife wanted to spend our 10th anniversary in Alaska on a cruise ship. She had always had a fascination with dolphins and whales. (I didn’t consider that to be a leak. What woman doesn’t have a fascination with dolphins or whales?)
She had brought up the idea of an Alaskan cruise a few years back, but I never really gave it any thought. I suppose I figured it was well out of our price range. However, given the raise or two that I’d seen since she first brought up the idea, the squall was looking more and more unavoidable.
I knew that if I stepped foot on a boat, even something as large and disconnected from real sailing as a cruise ship, all of the work I’d done to keep the bilge dry would be undone in a moment. Not only would I hate every second of the cruise—simply because I knew it was going to end in a matter of days—but when I returned home I would inevitably be a crabby old crustacean, drying out in the sun, smelling of low tide and seaweed. The cruise had to be avoided at all costs.
I came up with a variety of alternative ideas, and at times even lied saying, “Yeah, that sounds like a fun idea. We’ll figure something out.”
It was about this time that we realized our oldest daughter’s graduation from high school was the same year as our 10th anniversary—2023. We’d always wanted to do something big for her graduation, like a trip to Lake Powell on a houseboat (another leak) or a weeklong trip to Oceanside, California (a major leak). But we knew we couldn’t afford both an anniversary trip and a graduation trip.
Being the unbelievably loving, sacrificial mother that she is, she opted to spend the money on a graduation trip for our daughter. At this point, I figured I was safe. My daughter would likely choose to go to Lake Powell, which would be a minor leak, but not so flooding as a cruise ship.
I then did something that I never would have done—had I known what it would bring about—though I’m grateful for it now. With thoughts of my daughter’s upcoming graduation on my mind, I set out to find old photos of her. I wanted to compile a small scrapbook of sorts. Something that would start with photos of her as a baby and toddler, progressing through her life up until her graduation. The best place to look for old photos in today’s day and age is on a hard drive.
I grabbed the large black hard drive I’d used to backup several computers over the years before finally retiring it, and plugged it in. I began sifting through folder after folder, finding all sorts of digital odds and ends—photos, documents, music I hadn’t heard in years, etc.
One specific folder that caught my eye was simply titled, “Old Movies.” I couldn’t recall purchasing or owning any “old movies,” so curiosity got the best of me. I clicked into the folder. In it were 5 movie files: Project BlueSphere (1 and 2), Other Peoples’ Paradise, Ice Blink, and a file called, “Sailing Trip.” The first four files had a recognizable thumbnail—they were actual feature productions I had purchased. The fourth was just a square with a play symbol inside. I clicked it.
It was in that moment that every cork, every plank, every bit of tar and pitch, every piece of fiberglass, epoxy, and 5200 sealant that I had used to shore up the leaks in my life, gave way. It was the video footage that I shot during the sailing trip of 2009, aboard my dad’s 43’ Westsail Ketch, MARANATHA.
The salt water poured into the house—and out of me—till I was waist deep, wading around, pushing the flotsam and jetsam of my former life out of the way, frantically trying to find the pause button. I never found it. The entire 15 minutes of footage played while I just sat there, soaked.
When it ended, I played the other 4 files. I watched everything in that folder in one setting. I then walked to my living room and, over the course of the next 2 days, watched Captain Ron, White Squall, Waterworld, and Treasure Island.
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