To Wander – and not get lost – Trimaran Therapy

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A-wandering I have gone on the Great Escape. Up boat and trailered south out of Seattle. Sailed to Catalina Island with Leneman for a Splash at the end of Summer. Hoisted the boat and spent a week paddling and showering nude under Big Sur waterfalls. On the road again to Lake Powell and paddled down a slot canyon in foot deep cow shit. Kept the boat on the trailer. Warned off the Texas coast by a red tide bloom – so took the back roads (Say brother – is that there thang a hecilopter?) and had a delightful week blast reaching up and down Choctawatchee Bay in Florida.

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Flew to Gibraltar, crossed the straits to Morocco and learned I did not want to be a Royal Yacht Association captain after all. Flew back. Skipped down to the Keys – got blown around, acted badly and was redeemed. Wintered over on the Golden Isles of Georgia – became a By-God US Coast Guard licensed captain and fell in love with St Simons. Bonnie Bishop sang her soul and gave mine chills not 10 feet away in a whisky bar/coffee shop in Bluffton South Carolina.  Diverted for a day or two to the USVI to investigate the pirate life of a day sail charter captain and thought better of it. But got to see my old boat there – F-27 Little Wing – and meet her current owner. St Johns is not a bad place for an F-Boat – or any boat for that matter.

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Braved Bahamian Easterlies to cross the Gulf Stream to the Abacos. Danced a magic night under a rising full moon with new old friends on an Island of treasure. Old time cruisers took us under their wings on Green Turtle – and Donnie says Hi. Rode those same Easterlies back across the Stream in company with a long lost friend. Stored the boat and drove up the East coast of the USA. Chased Robert E. Lee to Appomattox, Manassas, Antietam and Gettysburg. Visited the old homestead in upstate New York and shed a tear. Got distracted by hints that my old profession might take me back. They wont.

Cross country again chasing Miss Dawn’s winsome smile and blazing light. Up and over South Pass Wyoming in the wake of the westward migration. Saw their ruts and their graffiti and their graves. Camped under the Grand Teton and traversed Yellowstone in a blizzard. Diverted to Port Townsend while Dawn went to Canada and I nearly bought a classic.

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Luckily, I got better (but shes a beauty right?) Pulled into Anacortes to reunion with Dawn in the Gypsy Love Bus and saw eagles, seals, dolphins and ospreys. Welcome back – where’s the boat? Whoops…..back on the road again – heading South East to Georgia fast as I can go. Across shimmering Montana and Sitting Bull’s holy South Dakota. Chased Lewis and Clark down the glittering grand old Missouri. Crossed them old rebel rivers behind Sherman, to Brunswick and the good life. Changed the oil, howdy the old folks, picked up the boat and back across to Port Townsend for the Race to Alaska.

We didn’t do everything we set out to accomplish on the Great Escape – we didn’t make it to Mexico, Tejas eluded us, and sketchy internet connections kept us from sharing as much with you as we hoped we would. But we did achieve escape velocity – crossed the country SE to NW four times in 10 months….three times in one month. The golden handcuffs are broken and we are set free.  We will be at the start for the Race to Alaska and will shadow the fleet as they cross Juan de Fuca to Victoria. We will chase them up the Canadian coast until we cant stand it anymore. We will run trimaran charters out of the San Juan Islands this summer too – not to make a fortune, mind you, but to celebrate being on the water.

Its Trimaran Therapy, so it is. Step aboard and let us whisk you away……

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