Reaching Toward Freedom

As we sat there, fish began to strike the water's surface around the boat. "Stripers driving bait fish to the surface?" Craig said.

"Either that or blue fish. I suppose it could be tuna. I've never been much of a fisherman. Maybe that's something I'll need to explore now that I'm here."

Craig let out a deep breath. "I'm jealous, Bill. I really am. I wonder if I could talk Gloria into moving up?"

I'd been up here in mid-winter. "If you try, don't bring her in January. Summer is great and fall colors will take your breath away, but winter is intense, and spring is called mud season for good reason."

Now Craig was nodding quietly in the dark. I didn't think it was anything more than idle conversation, but two years later they moved north. Their kids were grown, and they decided there was more to life than traffic and overpriced homes. His coworkers thought they were nuts, and they were not so quietly planning their retirements in South Carolina. It seems that South Carolina is the new Florida.

"Bill, are you feeling any better tonight?"

The question caught me off guard and I honestly had to think for just a moment about what he meant. "Yeah, I think I am. The further away I get, the better I feel." I turned to look at my friend. "Can I tell you something that I'm not proud of?"

Craig just chuckled. "Of course."

"I've been thinking a lot on this sail north and I keep coming back to the same question."

"Which is?"

"Why didn't I see it sooner? Sheila always wanted more, and she was never satisfied with what we had. I wanted the things that enabled us to do what we enjoyed, and I enjoy this. She wanted a bigger house and more expensive cars to impress her friends."

Craig interjected. "Can I tell you something that I'm not proud of?"

I knew this was going to make me laugh. "Of course."

Shaking his head, he said, "We were never all that impressed."

So there we were, two grown men sitting in the dark under the stars, drinking our coffee, and laughing like a couple of kids.

When the wind and the cold drove us below and we closed the hatch, we poured ourselves two last cups of coffee and spent another hour passing the guitar back and forth. Neither of us would ever impress anyone but ourselves with our guitar skills, but that didn't matter. It was still the perfect end to the perfect day, and we were happy.

We turned in and set the alarm clock for six. We still had a good sail ahead of us, but it wouldn't be as long as today's sail if the wind held steady and strong. The last thing I did before turning in was to set the GPS alarm in case the anchor failed to hold. We were surrounded by rock that would be remarkably unforgiving if we dragged the anchor.

Day 9: Monday

The morning alarm caught us sleeping and we were slow to rise. Neither of us were as young as we used to be, but for these few days we were doing our best to think we were. We decided to start out as soon as we were dressed, and then once underway we could make our morning coffee. There are advantages to having a crew aboard.

Once again, the early summer breeze was perfect, and we made good time. We were trying to maintain a course that kept us five to ten miles offshore as we sailed north by northeast along the Maine coast. Looking west to the pine tree coast as we sailed along, I could almost imagine what the first Europeans saw, but of course my imagination was all nonsense. When Columbus arrived in the new world there were more than sixty million natives already living in the Americas. That was almost the population of Europe at the time. The coast was dotted with communities and even small cities of native people. A century later there was only a tenth as many natives. While pondering that reality, it seemed to me that my problems paled by comparison.

I watched the horizon as we sailed. There were a few boats out, but not many and none very near to us. As I watched, one-by-one the towns passed to port - York, Ogunquit, Wells, and Kennebunk. Each passing town brought us closer to Casco Bay and my destination. When we passed Cape Elizabeth, it was like walking through the front door of what used to be my home. I would step over the threshold, drop my briefcase in the living room, loosen my tie, take a deep breath, and then exhale. Only then could I feel the tension leave me. Rounding Cape Elizabeth was much the same that day and for the first time in nine days, I felt like I was home.

Casco Bay is unlike any place I've ever sailed with long slivers of rock all aligned in one direction. It was shaped by the last great glacier that passed over this region carving a record of its existence in the very rock of the earth. Craig and I were in a maritime playground, and we played like two kids on the monkey bars at the park. We beat our way between the islands, reached here, tacked there, and took the most indirect path we could find to reach the berth that waited for Voyager. We were laughing with every mile as we put the boat through her paces, and she responded like the thoroughbred that she is. It was growing dark by the time we struck sail and tied up at the pier that would be Voyager's new home. Simply put, it had been the perfect day and the perfect end to my voyage with a good wind, moderate seas, a capable boat, and most excellent company.

We stowed everything below with the promise to straighten the cabin later, locked the hatch shut, and went in search of dinner. After dinner, we just walked. Our berth wasn't in the Old Port area - I could never afford that. Voyager was tied up where the town grew sparse and increasingly residential, but we found a good place to eat, and the walk was enjoyable. To my surprise, we passed others out for their evening walk and found ourselves in conversation with strangers. If everyone here is as friendly as these, I knew I'd enjoy my new home.

Day 10: Tuesday

In the morning I arranged for my rental car to be delivered. Once mobile, we headed to the Old Port area for a late breakfast and to do some more walking. I needed to walk and stretch my legs.

"What time is your flight?"

"I haven't booked one. If it works for you, I thought I'd fly home tomorrow sometime. It doesn't matter when."

Yes, that worked for me. My solo voyage had burned some of the pain from my soul and now I was enjoying the company of a good friend who cared enough to see me settled.

"So, you need to show me your new apartment, and your new office, and..."

He was deliberately trying to make me laugh. "You are such a girl!" Still, it was a good idea. I needed to be sure that my new apartment was ready for me, and it didn't hurt to check in at the new office.

We stepped through the door of my apartment. I'd been here once before, and I knew not to expect much, but the look on Craig's face told me that he was disappointed.

"It's only temporary until I get my life settled. It's a place to eat and sleep and keep my clothes. I don't need much more than that."

"You rented it furnished?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"There's no room for your office furniture or any of your tools."

"Yeah, I figured I'd rent another storage unit until I get a permanent place."

He didn't say anything further. He walked into the bedroom, looked around, and nodded. He walked around the living room not saying anything and nodded. Then he stepped into the galley kitchen. He opened every cabinet and said, "Did you bring sheets and a blanket for the bed?" I hadn't. "What about towels?" Nope. "You don't have enough pots and pans and you need a kettle." He looked a little more. "You need a good crock pot so you can make stew while you're at work. Do you have a microwave?" I didn't. "We need to get you a microwave. Plus, the curtains in the living room are falling apart."

I looked at him and said, "When did you become Martha Stewart?"

He smiled a gotcha smile and held out a slip of paper in his hand. "Gloria gave me a list of things to check for. Also, you need a table and lamp in here if you're going to read."

I had to admit, when he's right, he's right. I now had a to-do list to keep me occupied and out of trouble for a few days.

I checked in at my soon-to-be office, said hello all around, and told them that I expected to be at work first thing Monday morning. Craig nudged the fellow nearest him and said, "Ask him how he got here!" I gave them the short version of my voyage north and discovered that I would be working with my kind of people. There were sailors and there were fishers, but everyone skied in the winter. I knew I was going to fit in when they made me promise that I'd give them more details of my voyage in the future and take all comers out for a sail. I was never wanting for a crew again, although I still enjoyed going out by myself from time to time.

Every tourist and new arrival in Maine is required by society if not the law to pay a visit to L.L. Bean in Freeport, so that was our next destination. We looked over the canoes and fantasized, we checked out the camping supplies and lied, and then I bought some khakis and dress shirts for work. It was a decidedly more casual office than the one I'd left.

That night we slept on Voyager one last time. I knew I would become comfortable in my small apartment, but for now the cramped cabin of my cutter was home to me.

Day 11: Wednesday

We rose, dressed, and ate well after sunrise. Today was truly the end of my voyage and I knew that tonight I would sleep in the bed of my new apartment. I'd sleep on Voyager again when the desire called me, and I would spend many weekends exploring the coast, but it was time to begin my transition back to a life on land. I took Craig to the airport and said goodbye, then went shopping for a table and lamp along with some linens. The last thing I did that day was to move my clothes, books, and guitar from Voyager to my apartment. I was settled in, and it was no more difficult than that.

As I loaded my possessions into the car and prepared to depart for my apartment, I turned for one long look at Voyager and watched her bob and tug at her lines. She was a thoroughbred anxious to get back to sea and I knew that soon we would go exploring together again. I'd started my voyage sailing north hoping to leave the pain of one life behind as I searched of a new life elsewhere, but somewhere in the wind and the waves, or maybe huddled below in my cramped cabin, Voyager and I had made a bond. With her help, I had been transformed and was now ready to face my new life ahead.

Epilogue:

The kids called almost nightly once they knew I was settled. I was talking with them more after my move than I did before. It seems once they had time to think about it, they understood my decision.

A few weeks after I was settled in, I flew back to Maryland on a Friday evening after work and spent the night in a local hotel. Saturday morning I met my friends for breakfast and then they helped me load the truck. It was a small truck and we filled it easily. Before I could load my car on the trailer, I drove back to my old house. It hadn't been much more than a month, but now it seemed a lifetime ago. My voyage was complete.

I knocked on the front door and when Sheila answered her face went from surprise, to confusion, to condescension. She invited me in, and we sat in the living room. She had that damn smirk on her face, so I let her start. "So, are you finally over your little snit and ready to get back to the marriage?"

I might have treated her better if she had said anything else. "No, I'm not coming back."

Her smirk dissolved and she just stared at me. It's funny how someone who betrays you can go on to think that they are somehow indispensable in your life as if you could never get along without them.

"I have a new life now and I'm not coming back. You made your decision and now I have made mine. The best thing you can do is just sign the papers and we can both get on with our lives."

She tried to deal, and she tried to plead, and she offered up just about everything other than George, but there was no going back. A man hopes that his wife will love him, but more than that he needs for her to respect him. Sheila didn't respect me. Somewhere along the way I'd lost her respect if I ever had it at all, and there was no point in wondering where.

Soon I was driving the truck and trailer north following the path that I had sailed not so many weeks before. It's funny how my preparations for moving seemed daunting at the time, and now somehow my old life fit easily into a small truck with my books and tools in the back and my guitars in the cab beside me. Much like then, I spent the night alone some distance north of New York City and in the morning, I completed my second solo voyage north. This time, I was returning to my life instead of looking for it and I knew that come what may, I would enjoy the years ahead of me. I did find love the second time around and I do have friends both old and new to share the voyage with, but that is a story for another time. As for Sheila and George, I sometimes fantasized about revenge, but I knew that was just the pain and anger talking. I worked to replace the pain with joy, the isolation with the company of good friends, and soon Sheila became just one more occasional problem and George was of no importance at all.

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I promised you this story was longer and slower than my usual stories. I apologize for that. I became fascinated by the voyage and the life of a lone voyager leaving one life behind and finding another life ahead. I hope it wasn't too long for you. I'm sure my next story will be considerably shorter.