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The first day of autumn was foggy and gray and I loved it. Walking along Shelter Island’s edge, ships would materialize out of the mist or vanish from sight and mind like a fading dream. Silvery tall shapes ensconced in the foreground with only misty gray for a background reminiscent of a painting in the Abstraction style; where only the essence, the etherial soul of the object, catches the eye and is assembled by the mind as being moored sailboats.

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Of course, sailing in fog brings other emotions too. Your eyes plays tricks on your brain when there is a moving deck beneath your feet and every sound is strange and untrustworthy. And if it’s also dark, then you truly begin to wonder if you will fall off the edge of the world. Fear, at times, becomes your crew, especially if you solo-sail as I do. But, and this is only an educated guess as I have not done this yet, with an electric drive pushing you silently through the fog, it will be easier to hear the muffled engines of anything nearby, it will be easier to hear waves breaking on rocks, and it will be easier to relax and enjoy the shrouded world you find yourself it.

I am oh-so looking forward to getting this seaborne sabbatical underway. In fact, in my mind, I am already doing it when it comes to being a consumer. Whenever I start to pull out my wallet to buy anything, and I mean anything, I find myself whispering my little mantra to myself: Can I use this on the boat and am I taking it with me when I go? If no, my wallet gets put away. And so far, it’s not only helping me save money, I’m also loosing weight.

I can’t wait to ghost through the fog of a distant shore aboard Sine Metu. To feel my way through the gray mist to find a safe port to anchor in. To start doing and to stop dreaming.

As Bob Bitchin of Latitudes & Attitudes fame and author of Letters from the Lost Soul says, “Don’t just dream your life, live your dream.”

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