Wind or "Ol Fossil fuel?"

Sat Jul 9 08:36:09 PDT 2005

So eloquently conveyed...I felt like I was reading a chapter in novel. Standing tall on my sea legs looking out over the bow of her into the horizon I am transcended by the splash of color, swish of the waters and the aroma of the salty sea. Oh. what an erie calm I sense in these unwitting  times. 

I've always sensed I would be sailing away into sunsets and rises as I'm guided into ports of call by an inner voice to deliver hope to the forelorn. It came to me in a vision almost 20 years ago. 

Cheryl
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: Harrison Owen 
  To: OSLIST at LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU 
  Sent: Saturday, July 09, 2005 6:06 AM
  Subject: Wind or "Ol Fossil fuel?"

  Cheryl -- you "outed" me. I confess. Fossil fuel it is -- and I suppose that makes me an 'ol fossil of some sort. But let me introduce you to The Ethelyn Rose. Those of you who know me will recognize the name as being my wife's. Old tradition up here in Down East (which is what the locals call the great State of Maine) -- name your boat for the one you love. Some say the practice is a mark of affection. Others point out that given the amount of time you spend with and on a boat, naming her for your wife (or significant other) could be understood as some kind of a guilt offering. I suppose it is a little of both. But the name fits -- she is very cute, albeit a tad beamy. Both "shes."

  The Ethelyn Rose is basically a Lobster boat, a hull form that has evolved from the on-going symbiosis of men and sea in The Gulf of Maine. Not terribly fast but very sea-kindly, which is the way people describe a boat that doesn't fight the waters but lives in them with respect. High bows and deep draft, she keeps on keepin' on regardless of the weather.  In calm seas there is something like joyful playfulness in her passage. And when the winds blow and the waves mount it is almost as if she became part of the sea.

  She is a power boat with no small amount of power. A 250 horsepower turbo charged Cummins Diesel lies in her hull, but rarely do you want or need to use all that power. The Ethelyn Rose makes her way with an economy of effort. And if wind in your hair is your desire, there is plenty to be had, and should you crave the sound of the waters -- the song of their passage along the hull is constantly in your ears. The Ethelyn Rose was built for the sea and has the capacity to stay out there for a long time, thanks to the 300 gallons of fuel she carries. Of course, there is a down side when you come to the fuel docks for a "fill-up."

  I can think of thousands of reasons why I should never have fallen pray to the charms of this lady, and the cost of fuel is but the least. Indolent excess, escapism, flight from reality -- to name a few. And of course there is the "ol fossil fuel" business. But on board and under way, that is not quite the way it feels. On a crystalline clear day when the sky is a shocking blue, the sea a deeper reflection, and the islands of Penobscot Bay stand out in bold relief, the whole world in all of its pain and suffering is very much present -- but in a different context. It is a context of deep beauty which reminds me that for all the madness and destruction, this is still Planet Earth, our home, the lovely blue marble -- and the madness we inflict upon ourselves is but a small thing in a sea of beauty. A passing moment which will triumph and overwhelm us all only if we forget the beauty which is our living space. For me it is all about perspective and not escape. I think of my friends and colleagues around this world in The Middle East, London, Africa, the Far East -- and call their names so that they might share this beauty and the sense of its deep power. And if they cannot be present personally (and many have over the years) then perhaps I can carry something of this beauty in my presence with them, when and as we meet.

  The skies and waters of Maine are not always crystalline blue. There are times of deep fog when everything disappears in a mist of whiteness so thick you cannot see the bow of the boat. A blanket of quiet settles over a disappearing world interrupted only by the deep cry of the fog horn. Even with radar and GPS there is a sense of disorientation, placelessness -- emptiness. It can be very scary, but in a surprising way -- when nothing is there, everything is present. Pure open space, bounded only by the limits of your imagination. 

  So Cheryl -- Welcome to The Ethelyn Rose!

  The 'Ol Fossil

  Harrison Owen
  7808 River Falls Dr.
  Potomac, MD  20854
  USA
  301-365-2093
  207-763-3261 (summer)
  website www.openspaceworld.com

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