Never Get Out Of The Boat in anticlimatic

Ever have one of those nights that feels like it’s being narrated by Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now? Too much time isolated, talking to yourself in nonsensical and spiraling observations? It’s just me and the cats tonight. Me and the cats and the clock, going TICK TACK TOCK.

Something’s been up with me this week. Something not quite right. I keep falling into these fits of decision paralysis where I can’t seem to justify any forward action. It’s like normal programs that I usually don’t have a problem executing- calling business contacts back after they leave messages, grocery shopping, tasks I’ve postponed or am in the middle of- it’s like some bigger conflict deep in the machine is sabotaging these rote programs. I’ll find myself in the middle of something and just stop…drop what I’m holding, and leave it a messy pile as I ride off into the sunset.

Likely I am coping with the realization that it is now autumn for all intents and purposes. The children are back in their halls of learning. The dawn leaves the first floor of my house cold enough to numb my feet without slippers. All fourteen of my 19th century sash windows need reglazing, and all 3 of the doors in the rear of the house don’t close with any degree of a seal- but I can’t bring myself to replace them with something new. The mental teleportation the old hardware allows, to eras long gone, is so far at least worth the small fortune I pay to keep the burners in my 40’s furnace firing.

Every time I hustle up my rear porch steps and grab that door handle, I feel a warmth and pleasantness I don’t find anywhere else. Not anymore. Autumn always reminds me of loss. Even more than I normally notice, which is a lot. Everything I use to enable pleasure in the outdoors must be put to bed as the Long Dark Winter looks on.

The most difficult item for me to part with is my boat, though really it’s nothing special. Three benches in a wide open seventeen foot aluminum boat, and three motors- a 25 horse Evinrude in the middle to do almost all of the work, a smaller Mercury battery-start 15 horse motor on the right side as a power-backup, in case something happens to the Evinrude, and a small silent electric trolling motor that shares a battery with the Mercury. I use this one for shallow water traversing, or small minor adjustments as needed. I also keep a single oar wedged in the side that could be used if all three motors were out.

I also have a small “fish finder” that I primarily use as a depth, sonar, and water temperature gauge. I keep a duffel bag of various hardware I might need on the boat, or on land depending where I go- a pirate style monocular for scouting approaching boats and surroundings, metal detector for artifact hunting at some of the ghost towns and abandoned places on the islands, bottle opener, towel, literature on fish identification and size requirement, trail mix/dry snacks, game license, knife, pliers, screwdriver, etc. Although it doesn’t live on the boat like the rest, I also bring a cooler with me when I go out filled with ice, some water, fresh fruit, couple beers, and earthworms in a big ziplock bag to keep them away from my food.

I bring a tackle box with a number of options, a net wedged in with the oar, and a fishing pole wedged in on the other side. Two anchors- one for sand, one for rocks (I usually toss both, you’d be surprised how far the wind can drag an anchor), and a five gallon bucket with sealable lid “multi-tool’ that I use as place to store caught fish, or I’ll fill it with water for weight and put it in the bow for rough seas to hold it down if needed. I also keep two life jackets, and wear one periodically while I’m on board.

It’s also augmented with a couple wooden platforms that convert the first two compartments into a flat surface to stand/sit on, making it a much more comfortable place to hang out, and a large wooden ladder for getting in and out of the water that fits neatly in the forward most compartment. It’s a vessel with everything I can think of that I’d need for a day exploring the water, an activity that I have come to wholly depend on for sanity.

There’s so much that goes into it as an aesthetic and an experience- the smell of the water from directly on top of it, the thrill of navigating moody seas, the wide open skies from horizon to horizon, the absolute power of holding a tiller throttle in your left hand- allowing you to fly at any speed in any direction at any whim- and that feeling, that ultra cozy ass feeling, of having a self contained vessel, like a space ship, with all you need on it to maintain comfort and engage with the entire world around you for maximum options for exploration.

The absolute feeling of calm and freedom that comes over me while I’m alone in that boat, flying across the water to whatever destination, is one of the last great feelings I seem to have access to. I’m a goner without it.