The Excellent Adventure

As I mentioned in the last post, the Strictly Sail Pacific show was this last weekend. We ended up going Thursday and Friday, and when all was said and done, it was… informative. No, really. I managed to get a whole post for one of my other blogs, Life Without School, based on some of what happened there. I’ll post here when it comes up there. Suffice it to say, people are just astonishing, on both ends of the spectrum.

The trick, we’ve decided, is that you have to have the endurance to ride out the nonsense while waiting for the real gems to float past, and not be so tired, irritated, distracted, or overwhelmed, that you miss them. This year’s big takeaway for me, though, is this: Don’t tip the sacred cows.

Within the cruiser community, there’s a definite social strata. There are gonnabes, who don’t own boats yet, let alone cruise in them. There are wannabes, who own boats, haven’t cruised yet, but are on a countdown to takeoff. There are part-timers, full-timers, veterans, and Salts. It’s the Salts I’m worried about.

See… in this crowd, publishing and duration are the twin marks of your success. If you have written a book or ten, or successfully sailed across a sea or seven, suddenly your word is beyond question, and your opinion is sacrosanct. You would think that the iconoclast gene would run a bit stronger in a group of people looking to do something so off-the-path with their lives, but you’d be completely wrong. One simply does not question the words of the Salts.

I was flat-out accosted by the minion of one of the more luminous of the Salts. The details don’t really bear repeating, but honestly, I’d rather have faced down airport security people, cause at least their bad behavior is captured on surveillance cameras. This bristly little character was all about Basking in the Glow of the Salt… while knowing not a whole lot, himself. And yet, this was the sort of person the Salt chose to represent them, so that says a lot, to me. Judged by the company you keep, and all that.

I also sat in on seminars run by various Salts. I’d gone in with stars in my eyes, and frankly sports fans, I came out pretty much closer to earth. Precisely one seminar I attended exceeded my expectations, and that was Lee Chesneau’s Weather and Responsibility session, which left me with bruises in my skull, and an absolute passion to follow him wherever I needed to, to suck down everything he knows about weather. Really inspiring stuff. He’s doing a series of two-day seminars for the Seven Seas Cruising Association, and I am hoping to make it for one. But otherwise, I felt rather talked-down to, and by one set of presenters, blown off completely. Apparently there’s a threshold of seriousness that you are not to cross.

What’s fascinating, though, is that one guy has. Over and over. His name is Bob Bitchin, he publishes Latitudes and Attitudes magazine, he and his crew stick out like sore thumbs, and they seem to be having far more fun than any of the Terribly Serious Salts. And you can tell the pressure’s on. One Salt, in the middle of a presentation, made several really nasty undercutting comments about Bob, his life, and his boat. I was appalled at the lack of professionalism, but as I looked around the jam-packed tent, I discovered nothing but a sea of nodding heads. I guess that, just like in elementary school, we shun the Tall Poppies, in the interest of conformity and tradition.

Whatever. Back at the food court, Rowan was dancing his little heart out, and was clearly annoying people. One of the guys from the Eric Stone band (which is sponsored by Latts & Atts), drummer Gary Haas, gave Rowan a pair of autographed drumsticks, and the giant red-eyed Jolly Roger favored by the Latts & Atts crowd. Rowan was entranced. And me?

I‘ve made my mind up…. I’m going to sail away… Latitudes and Attitudes, will help me on my way….

Tags: Boat Shows, Education, Holding Forth

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