Sassea Sails



Metaphorically Speaking

Sailing as a metaphor for life combines my passion for sailing with my chosen lifestyle.
At the moment three phrases dance around my brain.
Other thoughts drift by like the clouds in the sky.

Sail don’t drift
Pissing in the wind
They Call me the Breeze

When it Rains, , ,

It has been said that when it rains, it pours. So it has been during this past week. From learning to post information on an existing website for the Museum of the Everglades, to updating my website her on word press, to biking with a new friend I am overwhelmed. Then, there is the book I finished reading yesterday that has once again inspired my passion to sail away. Lest I remember learning to link the websites of two friends/colleagues is also on my agenda. Oh yea, tomorrow is my mate’s birthday and I need to make him a card.

Unlike my sister who is living in state of boredom I have so many things I want to do immediately I may just make a cup of tea and go sit on the porch while watching the day’s last vestige of tourists who just had to go for an airboat ride. Far from being bored I am overwhelmed. What to do first? What can wait? What should be deleted?

In the end it is this state of flurry when living in the world of too many self imposed demands that makes me feel alive. Feelings of being popular, of being involved, and of being wanted optimistic motivate me to write. Write on my blog, write my dialog for an upcoming presentation, or write a birthday card for the man in my life, my fingers can’t seem to type fast enough.

So, while others cringe at the thought of a rainy day, today’s sunshower and infinite list of todos, has me shouting, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain.



There I said it. Actually I have said it many times during our courtship. What started as the fulfillment of a nearly lifelong dream and ended with the thrill of a romantic encounter haunts me each and every day. It is all good stuff. With the acceptance of life as a bitter suite adventure, how can anything we encounter be but an experience of wonderment.

Let me start with a definition of bitter suite as opposed to bittersweet. To be bittersweet I believe we encounter the same event at the same time. For example, morning the death of my beloved Danny while reveling in my purchase of SPRAY was bittersweet.  Sailing without having Danny to call on was the most bitter of tastes ever to pierce my lips. The suite was my new home, the home that is still mine; that home is SPRAY. And, Danny, is still my beloved.

It seems philosophical thinking that has crept into my being as it never has before. Why hasn’t SPRAY sold yet? Many say it is a matter of fate. Sooner or later that rightful owner will show up. In the meantime I meet dynamic people. Take Lew for instance. Lew and I both have the gift for gab. He lives in Oklahoma or Kansas. It is one of those states not known for sailing. Yet he has raced on a friend’s F27 and is fascinated by the thought of owning a tri bigger and more accommodating than his Dick Newick designed Tremolina. If the truth were known, I would consider a swap. There just isn’t room for a sailboat on coupleship.

More importantly, is that talking with Lew ignites the fire I once had. Living each day with the passion of watching a dream come alive presents a spectacular display of enthusiasm. Lew is getting ready to sell his house, is contemplating whether or not to sell its contents or pay for storage, and is a babble of verbage. Like the hyperactive dog that chases every squirrel he sees, Lew can hardly keep his thoughts focused on the list of questions he has about SPRAY. Again it is such a sweet memory of sparks that once flew within me.

Then, there is Herb, a seemingly more calm kind of guy than Lew. Herb knows he wants a Marples. He fears he should have bought one a few months ago. Since that boat sold all he can do is hope SPRAY lives up to his dream. He is leaving his house at 3 am for the six hour drive to see us. Us, of course, is me and SPRAY.

Months ago there was an American who is living in Sweden. He flew to the states to give SPRAY a look. A sailboard friend, Tinho made the 5 hour drive to swampland. Although I was betting his wife still is not a sailor, I thought it might be nice if we could make the deal. Another guy and lady came for an inspection. This couple found no fault with the price or the boat. With bitter regret, though, an injury to the guy’s neck prevented even the slightest downturn of his head. It was painful to watch him get frustrated each time his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. Then, instantly he grabbed his head reacting to the pain.

Each of these people adds to the legacy of my John Marples designed, Steve Neal built, boyfriend maintained boat. Yea, I love my mobile home. Yea, I am living in my boyfriend’s house. And, yea, I am happy onboard coupleship. BUT, SPRAY, wow, she’s my love,,,

Uh-oh Politically Inspired

Below is a copy of an e-mail I received to which I was compelled to comment. The regular print is what the sender wrote. My comments are in italics. I regret the extra lines around boxes. That is how the copy/paste presented itself.

I am the Democratic, Republican Liberal-Progressive’s Worst Nightmare. I am a White, Christian, Conservative, Tax-Paying American Veteran, Gun Owning Camper, Hunter, NRA Member. That’s me!

I am a Democrat, though more importantly I choose issues and values over party allegiance. I am white, jewish, female, tax paying, retired public educator, gun owning camper/sailor, writer, friend, sister, daughter, and lover.

I am a retired worker. I worked hard and long hours to earn a living.

After a 40 year career as a school counselor, who worked hard, long hours always putting the children’s needs before administration and parents. I earned a living and paid for all I have.

I believe in the freedom of religion, but I don’t push it on others.

I believe in the freedom of religion.

I drive a Winnebago Motor Home and ride Motorcycles.

I drive a VW jetta, have owned porsches, toyotas, pontiacs, chevrolets,  a motorcycle, and several sailboats.

I believe in American products and buy them whenever I can.

As a believer in a global economy I buy American products as well as non American products.

I believe the money I make belongs to me and not some liberal governmental functionary, Democrat or Republican, that wants to share it with others who don’t work!

I believe the money I make belongs to me. I also enjoy sharing it with our government to provide for infrastructure and safety. 

I’m in touch with my feelings and I like it that way!

Me, too.

I think owning a gun doesn’t make you a killer; it makes you a smart American.

I think owning a gun is a choice. Gun ownership does not make you a killer.   I do not judge others as smart or dumb.  People are what they are.

I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized, and does not entitle you to anything.  Get over it!

I think generalizing is ineffective. 

I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac or any other item, you should do it in English.

Learning a foreign language can be enlightening. Using a friendly introduction in a foreign language usually puts the newcomer to the English language more comfortable and willing to learn English. It is called ‘joining,’ i.e. meeting someone halfway. 

I believe there should be no other language option.

I believe limitations are limiting.

I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God when and where they want to.

I also believe everyone has the right abstain from prayer or belief in a God.

My heroes are Malcolm Forbes, John Wayne, Babe Ruth, Roy Rogers, and Willie G. Davidson, who makes the awesome Harley Davidson Motorcycles.

My heroes are the people who go beyond their fears to take healthy risks and who value a monogamous relationship with another human being or people who are happily living an independent lifestyle (single). Dee Caffari, Hilary Clinton, Oprah Winfrey, Florence Arthaund are among my heroines. 

I don’t hate the rich. I don’t pity the poor.

I only hate what I can’t figure out how to do or get. I only pity myself on occasion when feeling betrayed.

I know wrestling is fake and I don’t waste my time watching or arguing about it.

I know wrestling has a fixed outcome. Sometimes I still enjoy watching the show. What is there to argue? I also enjoy a friendly wager.

I’ve never owned a slave, nor was I a slave. I haven’t burned any witches or been persecuted by the Turks, and neither have you!

I have never owned a slave, nor was I ever a slave. I haven’t burned or hurt anyone intentionally, nor have I been persecuted by anyone. I have been discriminated against with regard to pay on at least two occasions and I have been a victim of crime. 

I believe if you don’t like the way things are here, go back to where you came from and change your own country! This is AMERICA. We like it the way it is and more so the way it was, so stop trying to change it to look like Russia or China, or some other socialist country!

I believe if you don’t like the way things are here, do what you can to instill an evolutionary change for the good of all. We have the best country. It will never look like Russia or China. Just look at the map. There are things in America I don’t like. It’s like any relationship, it is not perfect, but it is better than alternatives. 

If you were born here and don’t like it… you are free to move to any Socialist country that will have you. I believe it is time to really clean house, starting with the White House, the seat of our biggest problems.

I agree there are things in our government that are unfavorable. It is the best system I know of.

And, again, I say take evolutionary action to slowly make changes for the good of all.

I want to know which church is it, exactly, where the Reverend Jesse Jackson preaches, where he gets his money, and why he is always part of the problem and not the solution? Can I get anAMEN on that one?

 I agree I wonder where a lot of people get their money.

I also think the cops have the right to pull you over if you’re breaking the law, regardless of what color you are, but not just because you happen to ride a bike

And, no, I don’t mind having my face shown on my driver’s license. I think it’s good. I agree. Police are employed to pull you over if you are breaking the law.

I think if you are too stupid to know how a ballot works, I don’t want you deciding who should be running the most powerful nation in the world for the next four years.

Interesting point.

I dislike those people standing in the intersections trying to sell me stuff or trying to guilt me into making ‘donations’ to their cause. Get a job and do your part to support yourself and our family!

I  agree with you on this. I especially despise the cheerleaders and similarly attired folks selling car wash tickets. Those horribly fattening, overpriced girl scout cookies and boy scout popcorn and candy need to go. Teach these kids how to help an elderly neighbor landscape their yard, or carry out their trash, clean their cafeteria tables, sweep the classroom floors, pick up trash around the neighborhood and other helpful deeds would bring more good than selling unhealthy food or ‘sex’ (as in young girls in skimpy outfits at the car wash)…

I believe that it doesn’t take a village to raise a child, it takes a man and woman.

It takes a responsible person, whether it be a man and/or a woman. Teachers, doctors, librarians and other non-family members add value to children’s lives as well.

I believe ‘illegal’ is illegal no matter what the lawyers think!

Agreed, although verbage is subject to interpretation. 

I believe the American flag should be the only one allowed in AMERICA! If this makes me a BAD American, then yes, I’m a BAD American.  If you are a BAD American too, please forward this to everyone you know.

Hmmm, what about those cute little flags people fly on their lawn. Or, do you mean no other country flags are to be flown? What about the rebel flags?

We want to return our country to the values it was founded on, and prospered under for over 200 years!

200 years ago the woman’s right to vote was NOT valued, women in the workforce was NOT valued, and slavery was valued. I don’t think gays and lesbians were allowed in the military. I disagree we need to return to those values. 

My Country, I hope this offends all illegal aliens.

Is it just your country, or all of ours. My paternal great grandma was a Russian immigrant, and my maternal grandparents immigrated from England. 

My great, great, great, great grandfather watched and bled as his friends died in the Revolution and the War of 1812.

My great, great, great grandfather watched as his friends died in the Mexican American War.

My great, great grandfather watched as his friends and brothers died in the Civil War.

My great grandfather watched as his friends died in the Spanish-American War.

My grandfather watched as his friends died in WW I.

My father watched as his friends died in WW II and the Korean War.

I watched as my friends died in Vietnam , Panama and Desert Storm.

My son watched and bled as his friends died in Afghanistan and Iraq.

None of them died for the Mexican Flag.

Everyone of them died for the American flag.

You obviously have a family dedicated to fighting for our freedom and the freedom of others. For that I am grateful. 

Texas high school students raised a Mexican flag on a school flag pole, other students took it down. Guess who was expelled the students who took it down.

I would need to read/hear more about this.

California high school students were sent home on Cinco de Mayo because they wore T-shirts with the American flag printed on them.

Where did you read this? What is the name of the school and the town in California?

Enough is enough!

Yes, sir, enough is enough,,,,I can’t believe I responded to your rhetoric. It is your generalizations that compelled me to respond.

This message needs to be viewed by every American; and every American needs to stand up for America .

It might be nice if every American read your verbage, but it is not necessary. Food and shelter are necessary. Education and compassion are also nice

We’ve bent over to appease the America-haters long enough.

Who is we?  I need facts. 

I’m taking a stand.

Standing is good for your legs, in fact standing on one foot will actually strengthen you calf muscles. Sharing your thoughts are also healthy.

I’m standing up because of the hundreds of thousands who died fighting in wars for this country, and for the American flag.

What do you propose as a substitute for war?

If you agree, stand up with me.

I agree (metaphorically stand) with some of what you say.

And shame on anyone who tries to make this a racist message.

AMERICANS, stop giving away Your RIGHTS!  Let me make this clear! THIS IS MY COUNTRY!

Wow, I thought this was OUR great country!

This statement DOES NOT mean I’m against immigration!

I understand and agree immigration, like other endeavors should be done within the legal limits of the law. 

YOU ARE WELCOME HERE, IN MY COUNTRY, welcome to come legally: There you go again, in YOUR country. I thought I was a part of the American country,

1. Get a sponsor

2. Learn the LANGUAGE, as immigrants have in the past!  In many cases it was the children of the immigrants who learned the language by attending public school, a method for ‘joining the newcomers.’  Back in those times many of the woman stayed home cooking and cleaning and had little occasion to mingle with other English speaking folks. They let their children interpret for them.

3. Live by OUR rules!

4. Get a job!

5. Pay YOUR Taxes!

6. No Social Security until you have earned it and Paid for it!

7. NOW find a place to lay your head!

If you don’t want to forward this for fear of offending someone, then YOU’RE PART OF THE PROBLEM!

I am not going to forward this because most of my friends don’t read this type of jargon. 

We’ve gone so far the other way, bent over backwards not to offend anyone. What other way? The way in which women are paid less for same job a man is paid, the way in which slavery was legal, the way in which alcohol was prohibited?

Only AMERICANS seems to care when American Citizens are being offended! Not true, I have been in several other countries where the people demonstrate the utmost respect for Americans and indeed envy our life here in the good old USA.

WAKE UP America!

If you do not pass this on, may your fingers cramp!

Tsk-tsk, being a karmatic believer I hereby warn that what you bestow on others just may come back to you, better massage your fingers.

Glad to share our ideas. 

Sailing the Maritines

As we sail across the Canadian Maritines we relish the luxury of sleeping indoors on solid ground. Albeit it isn’t as challenging as sailing to latitude 48 along the Atlantic coast,  the beauty of a road trip allows us to ‘sail safely in much less time than it would take on even the fastest multihull. The fact that two days ago we could have literally walked on water keeps us in touch with our passion for life at sea on this the 5th day of May, 2016.

Lac Matapedia on Gaspesie Peninsula
Lac Matapedia on Gaspesie Peninsula


Jealousy-pure and simple

Did you ever stop to think of all the ways jealousy impedes happiness, thus resulting in a less than friendly relationship with others?  It was in the sixth grade when jealousy first reared its ugly head and stared me right in the eye. Would you believe it happened when a guy offered another girl to do his homework for him; it had been my job for months.

Throughout my teens, young adulthood, and onto present day at 67 years of age being jealous of any girl perceived as being attractive to my mate results in a pause. As an aging attractive female I am jealous of girls he _____during his younger years. Some are as many as thirty or forty years before we even met.

More interesting is how jealousy impacts my relationship with friends, like girlfriends. A few years ago a gal who was on my sailing team, a gal I taught to sail, a gal I spent endless hours helping her writing her book, organizing her life so she could spend more time becoming a competent sailor while juggling her career and family. Behind my back she literally jumped ship. I was livid. Like a foolish school girl I would stare her down, make nasty comments and avoid lending a helping hand. Sure if she were in imminent danger I would assist; but offer to grab a line while she was docking, hell no.

The research overwhelming relates jealousy to insecurity. We think someone else is better. We ignore our value.  We underestimate all the good that resides within our soul.

On a recent 8 day sailing adventure I sucombed to a nasty habit. Several times I dissed something a dear friend suggested. If she asked a question I was quip to answer denying the simplest request. When I realized on our last night at sea, perhaps my last night sailing with precious friends (she being one) on my beloved Marples 35, I cried myself to sleep. Each day since I wince and choke back tears on my poor behavior.

The only thing I can come up with is jealousy. That nasty green monster. After all, her husband is a professional sailor. She has one of the most user friendly sailboats at her disposal. She owns her own dock and within an hour or two she can camp on an island and/or sail for miles whenever she wants. Yet, after all these years, she still limits her learning to sail on the backseat. She loves to go for a sail, loves the comraderie, is a great cook, is organized, friendly, and has all the empathy people and animals that I so lack.

There is no reason, people will argue, to be jealous. So, why then, is it there? What about the wife of a husband’s behavior that has become deplorable? Why be jealous of the hussy he brought into their home? I don’t know. I do know the best revenge is success. And, it is hurtful. Why would an intelligent, attractive, kind wife question whether she isn’t good enough?

Research also favors positive affirmations, concentrating on a new passion in life, and engaging in a healthy lifestyle as important components to get over that green, slimy disease.  Yea, eventually the monster fades. We have pills for headaches. Like Huey Lewis, I want a new drug. One that will instantly wipe out jealousy. That dern biting bug bites against competitors and co-workers. Maybe we need an invisible sheild; perhaps a stun gun that impedes the monster from soaking into our soul.

Jealousy frustrates me on two levels. First because selfishly I am tired of being inflicted. More importantly, is the second level. I want to save those I love and those I don’t even know from suffering from its stabbing pain.









Pickles, balls and sailing

Since sailing a boat on longer occupies my body and mind 24/7, I am taking up a new sport. It is called Pickleball. You can google it, wikepedia it, read about it, or join this fast growing adaptation of tennis, ping pong and bandmitton.

Pickle-Ball2_smallFriend, Rena and I have formed the first ever Everglades City Pickleball League. The first thing I noticed when I joined the Marco Island YMCA Pickleball group is how beginners and even intermediates complain about the wind. Ay, that beautiful phenomenon. While ritualizing the serve, I take a deep breath, feel the air on my cheek, watch a stray hair breeze across my face, then decide how hard, how soft and which angle to compensate for the holy balls trajectory.

Watching the whiffle ball sail off my paddle then over the net hopefully landing at the feet of my opponent’s back hand side, I revel in my years at sea. Now rather than sail across the water’s surface I sail across a paved court with a tiller of a different sort in my hand. Always looking where I want my vessel to go.

For more information about Pickleball send me a note:

Sailing into the Community

Sailing into the Community is not unlike sailing into a new harbor. There are safe places to anchor as well as not so safe places to anchor. There are new friends to meet, politics of the neighborhood to be learned, and amenities to be found. Throughout the world seasoned sailors are ready to coach a newcomer. While others lead a more recluse style. Likewise, the local folk can be guarded or inviting.

So it is with finding a new homestead. From the hectic world of work, sailing for fun, sailing for competition, and sailing to educate to the docile lifestyle of an unwed wife, it’s interesting to watch myself morph. How much my lifestyle changed came to light this afternoon.

Working on my first edition of the Friends of the Everglades City Museum’s newsletter an ah-ha moment surfaced. I was sitting in a big fluffy chair at the home of my new bicycle riding buddy, community service liaison, and more importantly new friend. As she negotiated her personal computer to complete the next edition of the town’s newsletter, I plagued myself with negotiating the Pages program on my Mac. The museum newsletter is much shorter/smaller than the Mullet Rapper, the namesake of the Everglades City newsletter.

Being such a big (ha, ha) city, both newsletters share the same business sponsors. Certainly any news about the museum, which is fairly active, for our metropolis (not), is also written in the Mullet Rapper. Even still it takes time to organize, edit, and distribute these immortal documents.

About a year ago, after settling into the cozy home of my mate, along Panther Creek in the Industrial Center of town, I searched volunteer opportunities. The local K-12 school is the only one in the state of Florida. Tempting as it was to fall back into the role of counselor and member of the School Advisory Council, the locked heavy duty metal gate at the entrance to the administration office was a thankful deterent. Really, did I want to go through the finger printing and politics of another school. Nay!

The library needs people to shelve books. As much as I covet this quaint quiver of knowledge, both from the books and its tireless librarian, county clerk, and whatever else you need lady, I hate alphabetizing books and videos. Just shove them back on the shelf is my theory. Rather than embarrass my shelving habits I thankfully never filled out the arduous application to become a county volunteer.

Walla, the museum I heard doesn’t require fingerprinting and all that bureaucratic jive. After three or four days of 2-3 hour shifts saying, “hello, welcome to the Everglades City Museum,” explaining the self-guided tour and asking where the fine folks on tour were from, I grew bored.

To my rescue from all this volunteer desire with no results, were several camping trips. From Big Bend, Texas, to my nephew’s Asian Restaurant in Rockford, Ill, to friend’s Bill & Adela Butler in Kentucky and other notable camping sites I was distracted from any serious work.

About a month ago at one of the ladies’ weekly coffee Patti Huff and I agreed to go for a bike ride. It was a 25 mile haunt through the Wagon Wheel section of the Big Cypress Preserve. During our chat a discussion of all she does, (Everglades City answer to one of my favorite teachers at Palm Bay Elementary’s),  prevailed. Next thing I knew I was nominated to be on the Board of Directors for the Friends of the Museum.

With that title always comes a job. Did I want to recruit volunteers, prepare their annual appreciation luncheon, & make them name badges? No. Did I want to be the secretary and take notes at the meetings? No. How about be in charge of the gift shop? The treasurer? NO-NO-NO.

Sheepishly I spoke up and said, I’ll help with the newsletter. Without a flinch Patti said, “Oh, that would help me out.” Immediately we set a date and time to begin my taking over the newsletter. Yea, a job I can do mostly at home. A job that will get me out talking to people about the museum. A job that will enhance my writing.

So, it is on this quiet Monday, November 16, 2015 that I can now call myself the editor of the Friends of the Everglades City Museum newsletter. We are not the Smallwood Museum, which is really a cool museum. That museum is located in the next town west, or is south?

Back at Patti’s house despite the attention we paid to working on the newsletters, I was constantly aware of the time. Just as I began every meeting as a school counselor I announced the time I would leave. At the end of the first hour, I quietly whispered, “Ohhh, one more hour,”  Then 15 minutes and again 5 minutes before 5 pm, I said, “Just finishing up for today. Can me meet again tomorrow?”  Three minutes past my announced time of departure I gathered my things and bid adieu. After all, I promised to have dinner on the table about 6:15.

I guess it’s just a new type of competition to be the best mate I can be, whether on the sea or the land. Changing from an active, I, me, my gal to caring for and making the Ronster’s day a happy one is the course I choose to sail. I only regret I did not do more for Danny; God only knows how I miss him throughout each and every day…..






Sailing, Writing, Running — What’s the Dif?

Sailing on the 7 seas

Saiiing through a publication

Sailing on the way to the finish line

A gentle breeze is always present;

be it from the air conditioner, the heating vent or the whisper of mother nature

even the absent of a breeze evokes a sensation of being touched by life

Writing allows the hand to move in a steady or interrupted fashion

in a puff the hand quickly gets the pen to spew its ink across the page

in a lull one reflects on the next fitting word

Running, well running with the wind is a breeze

while running against the wind evokes each and every obstacle along the way.

Passion can be about anything, it can be learned, it can enlighten and challenge

Like every helmsman knows sailing is a many faceted domain.

Sail on, sail on, regardless of what you choose there is no dif!

For Sale or is it For Sail?

To sell my beloved SPRAY comes with much consternation. She is more for sail than she is for sale. Either way, she deserves a good captain. Someone who will appreciate the voyages and people she has proudly taken to the sea. With the sad demise of the commercial cargo ship, El Faro etched in my mind, how proud I am of the decisions made when taking SPRAY offshore.

This awful tragedy of El Faro reminds everyone of the vulnerability mother nature presents. Unless one is suicidal reaching a safe harbor is the icing on the cake. Who wants a dry, bland mix of flour, eggs and water. Sure, we love the motion of the ocean, the starlit nights, and the instant romance that creates the ultimate sensoround theatre that beckons us to the sea. Yet, evil lurks. The best laid plans go awry. Unexpected turn of events smack us in the face. Sometimes it is all we can do but pray and thank heaven for the goodness we were blessed with here on earth.

Though I did not mean to get so dramatic, my point is, SPRAY is about as good of a design and build as a 35 foot boat can provide. She is quite stable, especially when compared to a monomaran. From my experience she sails more like a sailboat should sail, she tacks without using the iron jenny as is required on some catamarans. There is no profit or commission for me to earn by making the sale. I know what she is worth, I know how much money I paid for her, how much money I have invested, how much sweat equity was provided by my charming (and good looking) mate.

To put a value on her is difficult.  Because of that I will leave that challenge to the experts in sales. Unlike the cliche, the day a new owner sails off with me on the dock (if I can stand the site), will be a day of tears. Sentiment, they say has no business in business. I say, nay, this is about the most emotional experience of my life. Hopefully the transaction will be more about being for SAIL then for sale.

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