New Years' Resolution

Location: Florence, Italy 

Listening: Black Sheep, by Martin Sexton

 

Back in Florence. Returning to Richmond after my second extended absence of 2008 felt like showing up late to a party that had never really ended. Things immediately fell back into place.

Every writer has a tumultuous relationship with his hometown and mine is no different. For me, this is a relationship characterized by an almost reflexive veneration of the continuities of the place--running down Monument Avenue where Jackson, Stuart, Lee stand still to remind passers by of Richmond's confederate past, attending evensong at St. Stephen's Church at the top of Grove Avenue, having drinks with old friends at Philip's Continental Lounge, playing music at old haunts, and of course the experience of Christmas and all of its traditions with my family. 

In all of the writings in this blog I've been unapologetically candid and emotionally blunt. This will not change in 2009. That being said, I once again take license to be sentimental in my reflections. Christmas break this year was for me a powerful reminder of how blessed and fortunate I am. In Richmond I leave a life characterized by an overwhelming sense of belonging and community, full of friends and family that I've loved all of my life. Because it is home, Richmond to me is the most comfortable and natural place in the world. The past there welcomed me and over break I welcomed it. 

But back to that idea about a writer having a tumultuous relationship with his home. Much of of what William Faulkner wrote was inspired by the need to deal with home--his obligation as an author to represent the social, political, economic, and moral conditions present in the Post-Bellum South with respect to verisimilitude and towards the people and places about whom and where he was writing. Faulkner's fiction (his invented truths) are far more true than any journalistic or observational account of his subject could ever be. As I Lay Dying (1930) and The Unvanquished (1938) are set in the fictitious  "Yoknapatawhpha" County, a device Faulkner employed in many of his novels that allowed him to engage his subject (Post-Bellum South) more critically while still remaining respectful to his native region. Through his fiction, Faulkner was able to represent The South as it actually was, and in so doing hint at what led to its fall and what might bring about its resurrection. 

Inspired by Faulkner's method and by my 28 days back home in Richmond, Va, I now reveal to you my New Years' resolution for 2009--to begin writing a novel inspired by my experience growing up in Richmond. There are so many people and places that are fodder for fantastic fiction--many ideas that have been floating around in my head drawn from my experiences at St. Christopher's (Tom Wolfe, writer, went to St. Christopher's) as a student, in smoky bars as a musician, at St. Stephen's Church as a gopher, as a bum down at the River during summers, and at home with my family, the center of it all. 

Ironically, I've spent the majority of my life thus far defining myself in opposition to the standards and conventional norms of Richmond, Va. Those of you know who know me well are aware that this is certainly true politically, as Richmond, Va is one of the most conservative cities on the east coast, if not America. I'd be better suited for somewhere like Burlington, Vermont or somewhere out west with the hippies and long haired freaks. But the fortunate result of this misplacement is that I've gained the privileged perspective of an almost objective observer, wandering at the periphery of the culture, taking notes all along with the intention of representing it in bound format at some point in the future. Well, 2009, here I go. 

I think I already know to whom it will be dedicated.... 

P.S. Yes, it is true that I am a graduate student in a foreign country studying political science. But the more I'm here, the more I believe that it's for some other purpose completely unrelated to the European Union, Democratic theory or any of that esoteric crap. I'm beginning to think that it's giving the the distance and time away from home that I need to begin writing. 

Stay Tuned.

P.S.S. If you have not yet done so, DO watch the Martin Sexton video I've put a link to up above. Martin Sexton is America's best kept secret--an AMAZING performer. 

"I believe that man will not merely endure. He will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance."

 

--William Faulkner

President Barack Obama

Location: Florence, Italy

Listening: Won't Get Fooled Again, by The Who

Wearing: PermaGrin (Leah's idea)

President Barack Obama.....President Barack Obama?.....President Barack Obama!

I kept repeating these words to myself this morning at 5:45 am Florence time shortly after I found out that the United States of America elected Barack Obama in a landslide defeat over Senator John McCain. I experienced a number of different emotions shortly after making this discovery. 

First, disbelief. I had stayed up late into the Florence evening trying to wait for the last polls on the west coast to close so that I could be part of the moment. Unfortunately, fatigue set in and I dozed off for about an hour. Upon waking and checking CNN.com, I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not. This was the first time that I uttered the words President- Barack- Obama--almost as if they were too improbable to be spoken in that order. I rubbed my eyes. I was awake, and it was true. 

  

Next, excitement. This was my political Christmas, the image that I (like many, many others) had been hoping and waiting for for over a year. And it was all wrapped up in Red, White, and Blue. 

Then, concern. I couldn't help but worry for the safety of the President-elect and his family as they walked out on stage together. Considering the historical magnitude of this moment for African Americans (and of course ALL Americans) and the fates of the two most prominent black leaders of the sixties (King, Malcolm X), I was afraid that someone was going to try and hurt him. This will be an ongoing fear for me. 

The next thing I felt was a sort of catharsis-- an emotional release. It's been a while since I've teared up, but I will admit that I was overwhelmed by the moment and could not keep my eyes from watering up. I (again, like many others) had invested so much in this, and I could finally let go of the anxiety and waiting. Hope, Progress, and Change had finally come. 

After this I fell back asleep.

And the last emotion that I've felt up to this point happened to me earlier today as I was walking across Santo Spirito Square to get a bite to eat. In celebration, I chose to put on a coat and tie this morning. The tie that I selected to wear is red, white, and blue--which clearly identified me as an American. Being the long, lanky thing that I am, small Italian people tend to notice me as I walk by, and this time I noticed they were smiling at me. It was at this moment--on a beautiful fall day in Italy over 4,000 miles from the United States--that I was more proud than I have ever been in my life to be a citizen of the United States of America. Pride is what I felt then, what I feel now, and what I will continue to feel as long as Barack Hussein (yes, that's his middle name and NO, it doesn't scare me) Obama is the Commander in Chief of the United States of America. We have our leader. 

On facebook I've been watching some of the things that people are saying about the election outcome. Many are wonderful, positive, expressions of patriotism and pride. Others are angrier, bitter, and some even offensive. I hope that all you will reject cynicism and self-interest and instead I invite you to take advantage of this opportunity for unity. This moment in American history is bigger than you, bigger than me, bigger the triviality of wedge-politics, bigger than Republican and bigger than Democrat. It is about a new direction for America, one that will allow us to restore our reputation globally and with many of our own citizens at home who have been neglected, left out, or forgotten. (I'm thinking specifically of veterans and many of the people who STILL do not have a home in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.) 

As for the notion of American Exceptionalism--I believe that America is today more exceptional than it has ever been. But Barack Obama embodies a new American Exceptionalism, one that is defined by hope, progress, empathy, restraint, intelligence, and class, entirely free of any pejorative connotations. This is the emergence of The New America, and I'm proud to be a part of it. 

 

God Bless America. --Paul 

"Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future. "

--President John Fitzgerald Kennedy

October 2008

Location: Florence, Italy

Listening: Welcome Red, by The Benevento/Russo Duo

I hope that you are all still out there. Keeping up with my blog has been particularly difficult for me as of late because of the overwhelming workload that I've been dealing with. Now that classes have begun I'm responsible for approximately 800-1000 pages of reading each week. 

There are weekly papers, presentations, and discussions that I must also prepare for. This is definitely the challenge that I was looking for. 

The subject matter for the first semester is primarily background material to familiarize us with all things EU--grand theories of integration, profiles on member states, explanations of policy-making procedures, and a formal introduction to the bureaucratic structure of the European Union. It's a lot of information. I look forward to getting beyond this "stuff" so that I can begin to deal with the larger questions facing the EU and its validity and purpose. I've always preferred subjectivity to objectivity. 

The Real World: Florence 

Having done this study abroad thing before (London 2003), I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting into. When you pack 16 twenty-somethings into a beautiful palazzo in the heart of Florence, Italy you can be certain that there will be a certain level of drama. As I mentioned in my last post, there are 12 girls and only 4 males living in this house. I don't think the pheromones have kicked in yet but there have certainly been moments of tension between some of the girls. We four males have done a good job so far of avoiding these. 

We've managed to go out on the town a handful of evenings since we've been here and I've been relieved to discover that there is a core group that shares my passion for "having a big time." Life is lived much more fully if we adhere to the work hard/ play hard attitude. 

Next Thursday I'm traveling with the group to Ireland for 4 days and then with a smaller group to London for 3. I feel a bit ambivalent about returning to Ireland after having spent a large part of my summer there, but I'll be going to Dublin and points further north/northeast far away from the coastal places that I hit earlier. I haven't been to London since 2004 so I don't mind returning to my old stomping grounds for a visit. I love that city. 

Phish:

The band Phish announced that they will be reuniting in March of 2009 to do three shows at Hampton Coliseum in Virginia. Those of you who know me and are aware of the absurd distances (Miami to Vermont and many many places in between) I have traveled to see these guys play can imagine how happy this makes me. 

Phish has a bad rap in the mainstream because of associations with drugs, do-nothingness on the part of fans, and a refusal to respond to the demands and expectations of major record labels. Truly, this was something that started purely from the ground up with no expectations of stardom, fame, or widespread commercial success. In fact, the realization of some of these things (yes, including drug addiction) was exactly what led to the first and second disbandments in 2000 (hiatus) and 2004, respectively. Essentially, Phish fell victim to the classic Rock and Roll cliches of fame and excess that has destroyed so many other Rock bands in the past. 

But while Rock and Roll is a bunch of bullshit-- music is not. And if you've been lucky enough to catch these guys live when they're "on" when there is an almost visible energy exchange between the band and the audience, you know that there is something special and unique about the music being created. And as long as this revamping is coming from the same pure, honest (and sober) place it originated from (a college dorm in at University of Vermont in 1983) then I could not be happier that the music will begin again. 

For many people including myself, music is faith. In fact, at this point in my life I believe that in many ways music is safer than many of the other avenues people take to discover a connection with a higher power. Organized religion today is more often about politics and power than it is about people and what makes them feel alive. Music is the purest faith--an unambiguous and indiscriminating energy that soothes and strengthens all souls willing to surrender to its seductive nature. 

I'm reminded of Nathaniel Hawthorne's story The May-Pole of Merry Mount (1837). The story is centered around a pagan-esque celebration that follows a wedding of two young kids in Puritan New England at the beginning of the 19th century. The wedding party dancing around the May-pole is interrupted by an elder who is appalled at the scene who then orders for the group to be whipped and clothed in more conservative garb. Hawthorne's use of satire here is intransient--it hearkens back to issues related to The Fall of Man in the Garden of Eden and also says much about contemporary societal forces that that repress the sort of unconventional behavior symbolized by the may-pole dance. But as I said in my last post, none of the repressive efforts of any of the institutions that are the matter of our zeitgeist will get us back "into the garden." So really, both social reactionism and conservatism are futile attempts to repress those things about the human condition that hint at our fallibility, mortality, and ironically even our humanity. The good news is that we don't have to get back into The Garden, but that's another controversial theological debate that I'll deal with later. 

Today in America there are too many forces telling us that we're not good enough, or that we don't look the right way or that we don't have enough money, talent, or ambition. But for me and many others, Music (and especially the music of Phish) is a well that we draw from that reminds us of what we do have, who we truly are, and what is pure, honest and sacred in the one life that we are given. With the music there is no room for hatred, fear, or sadness--only joy. Today, we've got our may-pole back. 

"The trick is to surrender to the flow."

from The Lizards, Gamehenge Narrative by Phish

PS--If you want to know exactly what I'm talking about, click this link and watch carefully at what happens between the 4 minute mark and the 7 minute mark, paying careful attention to what happens at the 6 minute mark. 

 

Wash Uffize, Drive me to Firenze

Current Location: Florence, Italy

Current Coordinates: 43° 49' 60 N 11° 19' 60 E

Listening: You Enjoy Myself, by Phish, 12/30/94, Madison Square Garden, NY, NY

Reading: Origins and Evolution of the European Union, by Desmond Dinan, 2006

I've been in Florence now for over a week and have not yet had a chance to post anything. In part, this is because of the overwhelming orientation program which has trotted us all over the city from gallery to piazza to churches and to other places of cultural significance. It is also because I have spent most of my free time getting to know the people I will be living with for the next year. And lastly and most frustratingly, it is because I've not been able to get a single good night's rest because of the nightly bongo drumming crowds that gather just outside my window in Santo Spirito square on the steps of the Church of Santo Spirito. This goes on until 3 and 4 in the morning and it needs to stop soon if I'm going to get any work done.

 

A brief overview of my living situation and the program structure:

I live in an 16th century Palazzo that has been restored to house JMU's international program offices in Florence. There are computer labs, classrooms, a full kitchen, and seperate flats for faculty and the resident manager. The palazzo is known as "Palazzo Caponi" because of the family that used to own it--Caponi. 

There are 16 people in the program--4 guys and 12 girls. For the fall term all students are subject to the same curriculum and are in the same classes together. However, in the spring, each is allowed to choose a track that examines a specific area of EU policy. Then in the late spring in the early summer there is an opportunity for an internship here in Florence. There is also the option to complete a comprehensive research project. 

Now to the interesting stuff:

For the past three years of my life I have spent my days surrounded by people who were either 15 years older than me or 15 years younger than me (teaching, working at a church). It's taught me a lot about people, young and old. I've learned to spot great people when I see them. I have also learned to identify and manage some difficult personalities as well. All this being said, I feel incredibly lucky that I now find myself surrounded by 15 great personalities. Instead of managing personalities, I am able to enjoy them. Finally, a break from managerial responsibilities!

But there is a different challenge now--one that I've dealt with in the past but in a much less intensive setting. Whereas earning undergraduate degrees in the U.S. today is much about self exploration and greasing the rails to affluence, graduate school requires you to pour yourself into your work. I'm not saying that college wasn't a worthwhile experience. I'm just suggesting that it was a much easier and carefree one. 

We have approximately 800 pages of reading and 12 hours of classes a week. If I'm not eating, running, sleeping, or in class, I'm going to be reading. I look forward to when the bongo drums stop so that I can finally get into a routine. 

Why I'm here:

Seven years ago today I was freshman at JMU. On this very morning while walking back from class I remember encountering a car that had a piece of poster board taped to the side window that read,

    "EXPELL ALL MUSLIMS NOW!!!!!"

At this point I knew that something was seriously wrong. I had heard whispers of conversation about a plane hitting the World Trade Center on the way to class, but hadn't been able to check any news. When I got back into my dorm room I saw the images that we are now all too familiar with. 

In my last post I talked some about the tension between image and narrative. Today I invite you to consider the extreme tension between the images from 9/11 and the ensuing narrative. I'm reminded of a song that became popular shortly after the tragedy--"Have You Forgotten?" by country artist Darryl Worley. This is an overtly jingoistic song that suggests that our personal connections to 9/11 (where we you?) and the images of destruction themselves are worthy impetuses for American unilateralism and the war in Iraq. The message here is "fall in line." This typifies the hyper-nationalist response to September 11th, 2001 that was popular in America. 

But are we really dealing with the images if we react this way? Doesn't this song and the popular response rely upon the use of binaries to make sense out of what happened? (See op-ed piece from this post). Isn't it a vast oversimplification to suggest that on 9/11,

     

 "America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and      

   

  opportunity around the world. "

  

         sic, President George W. Bush to the Nation, 9/11/2001

????

I believe America has yet to deal with the images of devastation from 9/11 circumspectively. While embracing a narrative that ennobles our roles as victims of atrocity, we have been unwilling to come to terms with our impact on the globalizing world on economic, political, religious, and social levels. We continue to cling to the myth of American exceptionalism--a myth that I believe is the source of the tension between images of destruction from 9/11 and the popular narrative of American infallibility and invincibility. 

Perhaps what we're really dealing in America is an identity crisis. Because the world is so complicated to us now, we cling to familiar (but outdated) images of American identity.For instance, why do many southerners still hold strongly to a flag that represents a nation that no longer exists? Perhaps this is why Conservatism has become so popular in America--because of an unwillingness to reach an objective understanding of what America actually looks like in the midst of competing national, international, and global narratives. We can't look forward clearly for looking backwards towards a mythical era of American prosperity, dominance, and exceptionalism. We can't get back into The Garden people, and we can't recreate it either. 

So now I believe that it is an issue of perspective. I feel strongly that in order rebuild American identity in the face of the many global challenges we are facing, we must look outwards and begin to examine our great country from as many perspectives as possible. While faithfully chasing an ideal of what America can be, we must fearlessly confront the reality of what America already is.

So, it is my faith that has led me here to Florence, Italy where I will humbly begin to deal with some of the tough questions about American identity that I posed above. 

Stay tuned. This one should be a fun ride. I know I'm certainly going to have a blast.  

--Paul

PS--The Sarah Palin narrative is another example of The Right's preference for popular yet empty narratives. I get that she's a good idea for the GOP in the election, but if John McCain truly had the safety of America at heart, would he put this woman second in line to the most powerful position in the world? It's like a bad disney movie.....

I assume that there are contingency plans for a puppet presidency. The Right has demonstrated over the past 8 years that they are all too comfortable with this dynamic. 

PSS-- Barack Obama is a Jedi. 

  "We are the strongest nation in the world today, [but] I do not believe we should ever apply that economic, political, or military power unilaterally. If we'd followed that rule in Vietnam, we wouldn't have been there. None of our allies supported us. If we can't persuade nations with comparable values of the merit of our cause, we'd better re-examine our reasoning."

        Former Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara (Kennedy, Johnson)

        quoted from The Fog of War (Film) by Errol Morris, 2003

Home, Alas!

Current Location: Deltaville, Virginia

Current Coordinates: 37° 33' N, 76° 20' W

Listening: "The Only Living Boy in New York," by Simon and Garfunkel, 1970

On Tuesday morning of this week Mike and I checked the weather and decided that we would not be able to leave for La Coruna, Spain until Wednesday morning because of a strong low pressure system hanging around in the Bay of Biscay. Within minutes I was arranging my travel plans home.

I flew from Cork to London Heathrow and then on to Copenhagen where I spent the night before catching my flight back to Dulles the next day. One note--As I was coming down an escalator in Heathrow airport I realized that the woman standing at the bottom was Reese Witherspoon. I did a double take and was immediately reminded of this scene from Cruel Intentions (1999). Only I think that Reese was a bit more impressed by Ryan Phillippe than she was by me.

After unpacking and a long run down Grove Avenue the reality of home began to set in. I'm now beginning to try and document everything by organizing my photos and journal in a manner that does justice to the impact that this experience has had on my life and on my outlook on the world.

The best reference point for doing this is looking back through my blog entries. While doing so it occurred to me that neither the images nor the narrative can stand alone--they must be considered together in order to really grasp what this experience was like for me. If you scroll through the pages of images that I have incorporated into the body of the text you might get the wrong impression. I snapped most of the photos when I was inspired by a sunset, or by a landscape or by some other awesome spectacle. The sum of this paints the picture of an idyllic experience--the perfect process of self discovery. But there were also some very difficult moments, many of which I described in my narrative. The two considered together give the most exact representation of what life was like for me over the past two and a half months aboard Gitana.

I talked earlier in the blog about wanting to document this experience as thoroughly and fearlessly as possible with strict adherence to verisimilitude. But I admit now that I was at times quite self -conscious about sharing my thoughts ideas, many of which I have kept private. I was also concerned with how others might perceive my efforts and that some might deem my writing to be the ramblings of a self-important author. In retrospect, I'm glad that I chose to bring you along on this journey. Now you know more about who I am and where I'm coming from. I hope that each of you also understands now how important you are to me.

A few last gasps of preachiness:

I mentioned earlier that the most important thing I learned from this experience was how to manage a difficult personality. I'd like to retract that statement now. True, Mike is and was absolutely a challenging person to work for (but a good one). But I remembered that in the past I've dealt with many difficult personalities in work settings and came to the realization that life is full of characters who test our faith and our understandings of ourselves and how we fit into the world that surrounds us. He's just another chapter--and a very good one at that.

Another important thing that I've drawn from this experience is that I've learned to tolerate lower levels of stimulation. I think that this is an important maturing step and I'm glad that I've finally made it. Throughout childhood, into college and even for a while after life for me was about finding the next big event, the next rush, or the next problem. Because of my time at sea (and more specifically my numerous 4 hour watches behind the helm) I have finally learned to relax, to enjoy the calm, and to really appreciate the brief moments of complete peace that creep up on each of us from time to time. I relish these now.

And the last and most important thing that I've learned from this journey is to choose faith. Life, like the sea, gives us ups and downs. It's much easier to adopt a defeatist attitude when we find ourselves plagued with doubt, humbled by failure, or hurt by love. But I've learned over the past few months that there are just as many opportunities to be positive and faithful as there are chances to bemoan some of the circumstances we find ourselves in.

And for this reason I cling to the many awesome images I've seen over the past few months at sea. If the narrative was the venue for my inner dealings with faith, doubt, and growth, then the images are visual reminders of how beautiful life is for those who choose to believe.

Amen.

Oblivion

Currrent Location: Crosshaven, Ireland (near Cork)

Current Coordinates: 51° 53' N 8° 29' W

Listening: "This Must be the Place (Naive Melody)" by Talking Heads, 1983

Gitana pulled into the Royal Cork Yacht Club on Friday afternoon (August 1st) around 3:30. The passage from Dingle to Cork went smoothly and afforded us many spectacular views of the southwestern coast of Ireland. Also, after two months of steering southerly courses, Gitana finally rounded the southwestern corner of Ireland and then sailed due east--the first direction change in 2 months of sailing. Cork harbor is huge, large enough for the Titanic to have sailed into it before heading off on her ill fated voyage across the Atlantic in April of 1912. Cork was her last port of call.

Coming 'round the southwest corner of Ireland

Royal Cork Marina

We have a very nice slip because Mike is a member of the Royal Cork Yacht Club. There are all kinds of other amenitities here--hot showers, a very nice bar that is designed to look like the captain's quarters at the stern of a square rigger with large bay windows that give a panoramic view of the marina and inner harbor. This place is heaven compared to many of the places where we've stopped. Also, the weather is fantastic. Finally, it feels like summer! Compared to Bodo way up north, I feel like we've entered the tropics. It's great.

Jack got off of the boat and I miss him already. He had the uncanny ability to diffuse the most tense moments aboard Gitana with a bawdy rhyme or suggestive maxim. Really, I can't even repeat any of them here considering my audience.

But there is also the dimension to Jack--the Royal Navy sailor, the succesful business man, the father and grandfather, the patriarch. Being at sea boils people down to their core character and I will now say with conviction that John Charles Nye is an honest, compassionate, venerable man. I love and respect him and will always be thankful that our paths crossed and that I had the opportunity to know him.

I never explained exactly how it was the Jack came aboard Gitana. About 20 years ago Mike and Jack sailed together as crew around Cape Horn on an old square rigger named "Lord Jim." Shortly thereafter Mike asked Jack to join him aboard his boat to sail from Nantucket to Brazil. Mike explained to me that Jack had all sorts of problems keeping a course from Nantucket to the Caribbean. He kept jibing he boat--claiming that the wind had suddenly shifted or that a gust blew him off course. But Mike attributed these mistakes to Jack's trouble with numbers. I saw this with Jack a few times when I was on watch with him--he'd need to be steering a 180 degree course but I'd look down and he'd be on 108. Anyway, Mike unfortunately had to ask Jack to get off of the boat because he deemed that Jack's jibing problems were too much of a danger. Mike has always felt bad about this, and saw the North Sea passage that we've just completed as a way to make amends with Jack.

Because of all of this and because of Jack's age Mike never considered Jack to be crew in the same sense that I was. Scrubbing the deck, cleaning the head, sweeping down the cabin, completing log entries were all tasks performed by me and me alone. This isn't a complaint at all, just a description.

Exit Jack, enter Zach! Zachary Johnson is Mike's 22 year old nephew from Grundy, Virginia (southwest, Va). When he says his uncle's name it comes out like "Maahk. " For instance, he said to me, "man, I can't believe that you've been on the boat with Maahk for two months!" Niether can I--he's absolutley been the most challenging personality that I've ever had to manage. But he's also the best seaman that I've ever met. I'm learning a lot from him, a lot of which has nothing to do with sailing.

Having Zach on the boat has made life much easier for me. He's the work partner that I didn't have in Jack. Zach and I share all of the chores that I mentioned above. In Bodo, it took me 5 days to scrub the teak wood deck. In Cork with Zach, it took us only two days.

We've now been in Cork for a week getting the boat ready for the passage to Spain. The passage covers 485 nautical miles almost due south through Bay of Biscay on down past the coast of France to La Coruña, Spain. This 4 day passage would be the longest leg of my trip. However, it might be that I don't get to go. Now that we've finally got the boat ready to go the weather does not look good. According to the most recent forecast there is a gale blowing out of the south most of the day on Tuesday. We can't leave before it (for getting caught in it) and we can't leave any later than Tuesday morning because I've got to be in La Coruña by Friday night at the latest to connect with my flight from Madrid back the States that I've booked for Sunday, August 17th. I can't come back any later than August 17 because I need to get my passport off to the Italian embassy so that I can get my student Visa in time to be in Florence, Italy by September 2nd. Right now all that we can do is wait and watch the weather.

Report Card:

Now that this experience is almost over it's appropriate to take inventory of what I've learned and what I've accomplished. As of this moment, I've sailed 1598 miles from the Arctic Circle down through the North Sea to the north of Scotland, down the western coast of Scotland to the north of Ireland and from there down the western coast of Ireland around the corner to Cork where I am now. If I get the Spain passage in I will have sailed right at 2000 miles.

I've learned a lot about the mechanics of sailing, about which sails to use under which conditions, about what to do in rough conditions and more importantly what not to do. I'm comfortable with all of the rigging on the boat, all of the knots you can imagine to fasten down everything from sails to seat covers, and I've also become a pretty good cook. I've learned a lot of "stuff."

But the most important thing that I've taken from this experience is that I've learned how to manage a very difficult personality. Mike has been harder on me in the past two months than anyone has ever been on me in my life. It has toughened me up, made me more careful, observant, and intentional about everything. Around Skipper there's really no relaxing, just brief moments when you're not obligated to perform a specific task. I've been with him virtually all day long every single day since May 27th and I admit I look forward to being to set my own agenda again and perform tasks at my own pace and on my own time. My patience is admittedly running thin but at this point I've got all of the oblivion I need in fact that I will definitely be off of the ship on Friday.

And none of what I've said above should be taken as criticism or complaint. Really, it is just the way things were, the order that Mike systematically imposes in the lives of any and all crew aboard Gitana. He runs a very clean and tight vessel and is the most knowledgable and worthy seaman I've ever met. His methods and habits have served him well and kept safe all who have sailed with him. Here's to you, Skipper. Thank you.

I'd also like to express a very sincere THANK YOU to all who have kept up with my blog over the past few months. Knowing that there are people in "the other world" thinking about me has helped me tremedously. During the most challenging moments it has helped me to think, "how would Dad react to this situation?" or "how would Mom deal with Mike?" Thoughts of many others have also flooded my mind during the most difficult moments at sea when I feel far away from rationality and peace.

I'd like to use this opportunity to debunk one of the greatest myths ever--the widely held notion that sailing is a relaxing escape from reality. During the first few weeks of this experience I wrote at length about Robert Pirsig's article "Cruising Blues and Their Cure" that was published in Esquire magazine in May of 1977. I think I could have chosen a better name for that entry but the idea that I was getting at was valid. Only I had no real understanding at that early and relatively benign point on this journey just how valid it really was. In retrospect, it's as if that entry was about me preparing myself for what was to come--the most thorough and intensive test of my self-sufficiency and "manhood" in one of the most unforgiving (the sea and Mike) environments possible. Passion, in the sense that I so loftily described in that entry, is what has pulled me through this experience. In Solzhenitsyn's language, this same passion has absolutely facilitated the growth of my soul.

A few more chapters to come. Stay tuned.

--Paul

"Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism."

--Sigmund Freud

Two additional notes/observations:

1. Black Irish women are beautiful.

2. "Hurt," by Trent Reznor as performed by Johnny Cash (2002) is the most powerful video that I've ever seen.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, 1918-2008

Current Location: Kinsale, Ireland
Current Coordinates: 51°42′ N 8°31′ W
Listening: Hallelujah, by Martin Sexton

Day trip to Kinsale. Boat is in Cork. We sail for Spain on Thursday.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn died yesterday. He was 89. This is the second person that I've written about or been inspired by on this trip that has died recently (also, George Carlin). I hope I'm not bad luck.

I'm reading "a - lot" (two words, thanks mom) about Communist Russia under Stalin as I prepare for my graduate program. Stalin targeted intellectuals (and many, many other types of people) like Solzhenitsyn for thinking (which was not encouraged) and placed them in the gulags. Solzhenitsyn's eight years in the Soviet work camps were the subject of much of his writing and the basis for many of his political beliefs.

Some of his words inspired one of my first posts on this trip. I'd like to remember Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn today by posting this again. Have a look if you haven't already. And if you have, you've done your homework and you've got the day off.

Another more detailed report coming before Thursday when we sail.

--Paul


"Long periods of well-being and comfort are in general dangerous to all. After such prolonged periods, weak souls become incapable of weathering any kind of trial. They are afraid of it. Yet it is a fact that difficult trials and sufferings can facilitate the growth of the soul. I know there is a widespread feeling that if we highly value suffering this is masochism. On the contrary, it is a significant bravery when we respect suffering and understand what burdens it places on our soul. "

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn