Back in the sea. The taste of brine and tang of life.


At long last, Otherphil and I got back to windsurfing and the day was good. It was good to laugh with him and share a joke. The last couple of months have not been easy for him. I got a text from him a few weeks ago…”I’ll call you,” it said. He called me later to say he’d had a scan. “Brain aneurysm. I don’t want my family to know too much about it,” he added. Not good news. Thankfully, more analysis and advice suggests it’s outside the danger area so my friend has a reprieve. The second friend this year who’s had a health scare. =-(

Life is short, and sometimes shorter that we think. “Make the most!” That was the tag line on my previous blog, before I moved it all here. Carpe diem, of course.

Today we made the most. The sea was turquiose under a shattering sun, shuttered by scanning clouds in squally skies. I clenched my fists around the boom and locked down the twitchy power in my sail. Accelerating through the foam, my board etching white-strike scars across the cold water, I fought the pull of nature’s power and slashed up a shallow wave. Droplets scatter, spray into the air as I rise. Distribute weight, wrench down and let the board fly free, tilted so it catches the blowing breeze and carries me two-dozen yards where I splash down with a whoop. The wind chimes in the flute-like holes in the boom. Dark clouds spit icy drops that sear my face. I lean and push down on the mast and carve a glassy wall into the water, flip the rig, adjust my feet and head back on another reach. I speed on. I am alive.

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