Read the poem by Edna Saint Vincent Millay - Might hit a nerve. Not a bad boat name.
Realizing, enjoying and even lusting over the memories of our lives at 60 or 70 years or something now, when we must acknowledge that there is a final act, this boat life thing is sobering, beguiling, freeing, provoking, stimulating, and such a great escape from the mundane. How could we not have cast off our lines? How could our eyes and minds have been so focused on other things for so many years? Easy answer and no pressure - Life happens. We survived, hopefully thrived. We are here now. Time to enjoy. Time . . .
We tolerated or consumed, or for some, devoured it all, our life before, with modest or great appetite. Passion, fear, ambition, duty, conviction, habit, tradition - pick your poison or your remedy - something got us all here. We did it and we made it this far. We took it all in and looked forward, forward, always forward. Such an exciting passage!
Time is so real, my time, your time, our time, simply an unreplaceable resource. So many of us have had such a wealth of great years, and surely more years in our wake than in the seas ahead. My God, we have so much to be thankful for! Life on our boats is so regenerative. I truly believe that for every day we spend on our vessels we add two to our days on our planet.
But, we can and should also look back because the vision in the rear view mirror is instructive, frightful, sobering, hopefully comforting, provides a breath of relief, and is maybe inspirational. We can and must share with those who follow in our wakes. Duty calls.
Party on dudes - Jack (aspiring future member of the Selene Owners Motorcycle Gang (SOMG)).
Jack Burgess, Shangri-La 5388