Thursday, December 04, 2008

Choices





"It wasn't a sensible thing to do,
but it was a courageous thing to do,
a daredevil thing to do."


Ellen Nelson
Archivist
Cape Ann Historical Museum



Choices—instead of the width of the ocean the possibilities constrict to a narrow passage through an isthmus.

This happens imperceptibly.

Unaware of the limits, people precede as usual until confronted by an individual without the accouterments, unencumbered by the stones accrued in settling down.

Alfred Johnson, according to stories, was playing cards with friends—men who went to sea for their livelihood or worked on the docks of Gloucester Harbor. They knew the ocean, its beauty and its colossal power. Looking beyond their harbor to the horizon, which stretched ahead, they knew that it flirted with sailors. The thin horizon line withdrew as they sailed—coquettishly luring them further away from any shores.

Who first asked the question?
Could a sailor sail by himself across the ocean?
Alfred, not yet twenty, said he could do it in a dory.
He could sail from Gloucester right to England.
Alfred announced that he would “sail smack into England.”

Before he weighed the dangers or thought of his comment as impetuous, he set off to outfit a special dory--twenty feet long on deck and equipped with three water tight compartments. He settled on the necessities--a canvas mainsail, a sea anchor, chart, compass, a lantern, sixty gallons of water, canned meats, condensed milk, hard bread, tea and coffee, an awning to catch rainwater.

June 15, 1876 Alfred set off from the Higgins & Gifford Wharf. He arrived at Abercastle in Wales on August tenth or twelfth so weak that sailors carried him to an inn to rest. On August twenty-first he sailed into Liverpool Harbor.

Alfred returned to fishing. His pride centered in never having lost a man in twenty-seven years as a captain.

Decades after the trip, a reporter asked if he ever thought about attempting such a journey again. He said that "...nothing on earth would tempt him to repeat the voyage."

I know you will say that what I am calling stones are really precious gems. So let's call them gems: good job, decent shelter, family, friends, intellect, money enough for baubles. Stones may be of great value, luminous, decorative, and treasured. But they also confine choices. That and age.

An old man in a coffee shop told me that he always wanted to be an archeologist--"It's too late now," he said. "I content myself with reading. Besides my legs are too stiff."

What made me think of the narrowing of choices? And doesn't it differ for everyone? Aren't some people still making or creating new paths even with the stones or baubles or ornaments? Yes. But even after I acknowledge that truth —time and ornaments impose limits.

With that said--should I think about traveling somewhere I've never been, attempting a feat beyond my comfort zone?

Push back those waters--widen that expanse--

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home