one year on

So today it's been a year since I left home. I don't really know why the one year mark is such a big deal but it seems like we celebrate that more than anything else.

There were times in the past year when I thought for sure that this was the wrong decision. There were times when I wanted to pack up and go back to Oregon. But there was always that voice in the back of my head that kept saying just to keep on with it. This job is a challenge. It's an incredible life challenge that I never expected. Several times have been hard, especially giving up my life back in Oregon.

It wasn't easy to move. I remember saying goodbye to my parents in the airport and wanting to cry and go back home in the car. Four years ago when I first went to Westwind there was a moment the first day I got dropped off where I wanted to get back in the car and leave. It was the first big step away from home that I'd ever made. But like that day I went ahead with it. I got on the plane and I came here. For better or worse I arrived and I made it all right.

So here's to notching it up and starting another year. Looking forward to seeing what it will bring.

the day the boat died

As the title so deftly suggests, the boat died today. And I was driving. I was just outside of the bay driving our 22 foot boston whaler, the Ghost Diver, when the engine suddenly started thunking and then died. I put in a radio call and was able to raise someone letting them know what was going on. I started the engine again but it stayed on for about 30 second before it died again. So there I was, dead in the water just outside of the bay.

Suddenly I noticed that because of the heavy winds and current that were blowing directly into our channel I was being pushed towards the kelp forest and the point. This means rocks. Big rocks. Scary rocks. The kind of rocks that will rip holes in the hull of your boat and put you so far into the kelp that you are beyond rescue. I threw the anchor but it didn't take and I was forced to do the next logical thing: jump over the side and swim the boat to safety.

Now, I'm not a very large person, and so one might imagine that I would hesitate a bit thinking that I wouldn't be able to pull the boat out. Guess I'm just not that rational. I stripped down to my underwear and grabbed the stern line and leaped off the side in the direction of freedom. Let me tell you, pulling any boat is hard. Pulling a 22 foot heavy hander is even harder. Keeping a tight hold on the stern I side crawled through the kelp, keeping my eyes fixed on open water, I fought my way about 100 yards through the kelp.

When I managed to get close to the edge, my director and support staff had come out to help me with a second ski boat and a motor boat. After about a half hour in the water I was able to scramble into the back of the Diver and collapse in the sun to warm up. Nobody likes hypothermia first thing in the morning. When we got back to the dock we discovered that a chunk of something had lodged itself into the fuel intake and shut off the engine. Took a little while to get it out, but they did and the boat is fine.

Bit of an adventure, but what can I expect?