The following is the story that evolved into, THE MARITIME ADVENTURES OF A WAYWARD LANDLUBBER, IT WILL BE POSTED IN INSTALLMENTS:

RED SKY AT NIGHT, SAILORS DELIGHT, RED SKY IN THE MORNING, SAILORS TAKE WARNING.

   The Lister diesel throbbed to life and the crew of Blanquita made their final preparations to leave the terrestrial world behind and take up residence in the aqueous world for the next three to six weeks. The differences would be stark; a different rhythm, different sounds, and little to smell outside those the crew brought with them. Some of them knew that it would be a world of stifling closeness, but all were eager to join it.
   The springline to the Spirit, which we had been rafted off to overnight, was shipped and coiled. Then the order "bowlines", followed by "sternlines". These were coiled and stowed in the lazaretto along with the fenders that had kept the two sailboats from scraping hulls. Blanquita pulled away from Spirit and the two crews shared noisy fairwells. Spirit, a classic 36 foot gaff-rigged wooden ketch, would meet a far different fate in the weeks to come. Blanquita pointed her bow towards the channel of the AlaWai harbor of Honolulu and motored out.
   It was September 6, 1975 and the tide had just changed to ebb. The full moon had been the night before, but the marine head was the last repair to accomplish and prevented us leaving on the full moon.
   Leon Guzlau, the owner and skipper, gave the command to raise the jib. The halyard was made fast and the sail bellied into fullness. The diesal engine was cut, and the sounds of seawater running along the hull and the thrum of the rigging could be heard.
   "Hoist the main" was ordered and accomplished, and the Blanquita was finally sailing. We felt the subtle change between the protected water of the harbor and the rhythm of the sea as she made her way out of the channel and gained the ocean.
   The crew turned to watch Diamond Head shrinking into the distance, and then turned back, regarding their shipmates wistfully and the tiny home they would share for the next few weeks.
   Their home, Blanquita, for she was now animate, was a 39 foot Cascade Sloop, sturdily made in Portland, Oregon. Leon would be selling her in Sausalito and settle down to married life. Stanley was an ex-Green Beret in Vietnam and started every morning with sixty sit-ups. Since he could no longer do push-ups, he would do diagonal push-ups against the companion way hatch. Andrea and Nancy were friends from Big Sur returning from their island adventures. The four of them were to one degree or another familiar with sailing. The final shipmate, me, had only sailed on a 12 foot catamaran once, and that had ended disastrously on a coral reef. The cuts on my hands and bottom were still healing. And yet, Leon and Stanley had seen something useful in me and invited me to join the crew.

Next installment tomorrow.

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