Found this on my phone, taken the morning after the tragedy.
As we enter the Holiday season, please join me in extending heartfelt prayers for the souls of those lost, for their families and loved ones, and for everyone touched by this gut-wrenching catastrophe.
It haunts me still, it will probably haunt me all of my life.
At their request, we took our Sea Scout ship camping at Lake Piru last weekend. In order to work themselves into a pre-kayaking sweat, the boatswain suggested a hike. Here we are near the end of our 4.7 mile trek through the September heat.
Needless to say, the Scouts were ready for lunch and some on-the-water time when they got back. A fantastic two days in the hills, and more proof that the BSA is just an unbelievable organization.
Reflecting on the Exodus over a lunch in the wilderness: Smugglers Harbor on Santa Cruz Island.
After a long day on the boat: IPA and iced tea.
Seriously, though, nothing relaxes and refreshes more than a day on the boat.
Marking the rode on the anchor. Because you never know.
Aaron breaking his Yom Kippur fast: chicken tenders, onion rings, prime rib, fingerling potatoes, and sourdough rolls.
Here in China, there is a lot of smug satisfaction around the US Navy’s repeated success at killing its own sailors and disabling its own ships.
American naval navigation and ship handling are our Navy’s most potent enemy.
Thinking about taking the boat out.
Realizing I have to get gas first.
Thinking about the cost of 260 gallons of high-octane.
Thinking some more.
Any day at the helm is a good day.
January 21, 2006
The F/V Sir David Martin, a jet-drive catamaran (JetCat) that made the 6.5 nm voyage from Circular Quay at downtown Sydney to the ferry dock at the seaside retreat of Manley at the northeast extreme of Sydney Harbour in about 15 minutes. Aside from the fact that it shaved at least 40 minutes off of a trip by car or an hour by bus, you could not ask for a more beautiful urban commute. For years when I would go to Sydney on business – especially in the mid-1990s – I would stay in or around Manley.
Between October and April I’d rise with the Sun, usually around 4:30, don my trunks, and head to the beach. I’d spend an hour or so body surfing, head back, shower, dress, and take a leisurely walk down the Corso shopping street to the ferry wharf. I’d buy a ticket, have a leisurely breakfast, hop the JetCat and grab a seat outside on the top deck, enjoy the legendary view for fifteen minutes, and be at the office at Chifley Tower downtown an hour before my colleagues. Brilliant.
Alas, the JetCats are gone, claimed by the rising costs of maintaining the speedboats as they aged. The ferry is still there, still a spectacular journey in almost any weather, and my decade-long love affair with the Antipodes has long since run its course. But it was brilliant while it lasted, especially as an antidote to the constant background stress of living in China.
Strolling to my table at City Extra, an immense cafe at Circular Quay notable less for the unique quality of its food than the variety of edible comforts on the menu and the ability to sit down, plug in, and balance your day between productivity and the best people-watching in the Southern Hemisphere. It was my hang-out, and many good times – and good meals – were had there.