Stud.

 

    In 1968, I was 13, and my mind was on girls, not round the world
racing as one of the most dramatic events in sailing history played
out.   The first Golden Globe race.... Sponsored by the Sunday Times.  
9 intrepid and courageous men set out in small sailboats to circle the
world non-stop, single handed, long before GPS, or satellite phones, or
much of anything we take for granted today.  No stops allowed, no
outside help, they set out to circle the globe. There was no starting
gun.  They started out at different times from different points of
origin on different days from June first to July 29.  One sailor had
absolutely no sailing experience.   All suffered the privations of
isolation from other people, the immense emotional distress and mood
swings that go with that.  Of the 9, one finished, one with a spirit of
rebellion diverted to the South Seas after rounding the horn, and one
took his own life, after perpetrating an elaborate ruse, pretending to
circle the globe, while in fact hanging about in the South Atlantic...
Unable to face the shame of exposure, Donald Crowhurst, apparently
slipped over the side, leaving behind a full record of his deception,
and a grieving, and destitute family.  The winner, nobly passed along
the 5000 pounds sterling prize to this family.   This drama largely
escaped me at the time.   It was the age of the sexual revolution, and
of rebellion, rock and roll music, rock festivals, pot, woodstock.  The
age of rebellion.... I was watching the specter of Viet Nam approaching
in the not too distant future.... the veritable Sword of Damocles
dangling over my head by a thread, the brothers of my friends coming
home in body bags.   I'd built my first boat, and was soon to build my
second, I was a rebel already, who despised the society I had been born
into.  I spent much of my time in the woods and on the rivers, build a
ham radio, gathered up survival manuals, and my best friends and I spent
days in the wilderness with NO FOOD except what we could forage.  I was
blessed with parents who gave me a lot of rope and trusted me........
How many parents today would take a 13 year old and his friends to the
mountains, and turn them loose, knowing that they would be at the pickup
point 2 or 3 or 5 days later??  Just a year later, I asked my mother if
I could ride my bike from Portland to Tillamook, spending a few days on
the coast, and returning... 70+ miles.  I made friends, along the coast,
and fended for myself, had a good time and took care to return on
time...... I never "asked" again. From then on I said "I'm going
to....."...."I'll be back....".  She loves to tell the story to this day
at 86........ I was the son who was independent, who could take care of
himself anywhere, and I was blessed with exceptional parents....... who
would be considered "irresponsible" today. They were NOT... they just
chose to raise me to be my own man.

    The story of the original GGR is worth reading..... dramatic and
captivatating, but at 13, a slow motion drama is something that means
little.  I highly recommend reading the book "A Voyage for
Madmen"...........  Weren't we all a little mad in those days?   I have
no regrets.  Today people respect me for my ability to take problems in
stride and solve them, to fit in anywhere I happen to be, and make
friends, to turn my hand to helping others solve problems, to take
control when it is called for, or defer to others as appropriate, and
give credit where credit is due...... and even when it's not.   I wonder
how I would bear up to 8 months of solitude... Would I have the captain
of the Nina aboard like Joshua Slocum to guide me, would I doubt my
sanity, experience despair.............What I wouldn't give to have an
experience like this..........

Howard