Thoughts, So Far

I am sitting in the galley on this the fifth night of yr. correspondents' journey, listening to the fire cracking in the wood stove and the raindrops pecking at the hatch. My fingertips are molded by the shape of ink pens from pouring words ceaselessly onto my pad. Still, in reviewing the pages, there is little form to the thoughts and almost nothing I feel comfortable divulging in a public forum.

My apologies. I owe more of a story than this to such supportive visitors.

On previous sailing trips I was able to somewhat recount the experiences of adventure. After each day, events and curiosities translated well. But since the twenty-third day of June I have been captive to introspection and the  strange, slow passage of time.

I could force myself to discuss each pleasant cove, every revealing ray of sun, or any bit of navigation minutia. Would that make a good read? I don't know. Be sure to read Ken's new post below; he has captured much more than I.

Really, I never expected to be so quickly and thoroughly thrust into a soul search, but unknown places provide no guarantee of any kind, so really, I could not have expected any less.

~e.w.