John Riley

Decatur, GA, 24-Jan-2019 – Jennifer and I flew from Seattle to Atlanta yesterday. We had traveled by bus and ferry from Port Townsend to Caro Babbo, on Lake Union, the day before.

Owning Caro Babbo introduces us to a greater cross section of the world than anything I have ever done.

We meet people who have bought new power boats for millions of dollars and people living on derelict sailboats that will never move again without a tow. Unlike doing business in New York or the third world where the mega-wealthy and the destitute live side-by-side, sailing Caro Babbo, we do not merely see the spectrum of wealth and social standing, we spend time with the socio-eco spectrum of mankind.

I lived in NYC during the dark Abe Beam years. The city was at its nadir: murders were around four per day. It was dangerous time, and a time to learn about people and gain street smarts.

Continue reading “John Riley”

Lady K nearly sinks, and a Saturday morning reflection

Port Townsend, WA, 5-JAN-2019 – It’s ten after seven on this Saturday Morning. It’s dark and won’t be light for another while. I’m trying to think where have we spent that last few winters such that I am surprised it is dark.

I remember winter sailing from Lake Union the first year we had Caro Babbo. We left the dock at 6.30; it was very dark.

This morning I have a bit of panic: I don’t know what to work on. For a moment, I had a ‘‘I’m retired’’ panic. What do I do with my time? I’m not head down in a house to be sold, I’m not literally head down in a boat bilge.

Work has translated into physically doing something. And I don’t have anything physically to do.

The great refuge is email and the web. An email from Darrel Walters suggests I watch a video of a Canadian pleasure boat sinking in the Bahamas. Their nightmare lasts ninety minutes and all is well at the end, but it makes me look at Caro Babbo in the light of their calamity.

Continue reading “Lady K nearly sinks, and a Saturday morning reflection”