I found the ladder back into the boat. Thank you for throwing me a line; I am humbled by the willingness of people here to reach out.
The sheets are a little tangled up, but the tiller and the rudder seem to be working.
If you like, you can come along and see the difference - from the inside.
After a night of restless emotional floundering I finally got some sleep. When I woke up Nigel was napping out on by my feet. It was already dark; but I am nocturnal on my internal clock anyway - another reason I took up baking as my trade.
I got dressed and went out for a cigarette and called the closest Safeway with a pharmacy I could walk to - and thirty minutes later I was checking out with a drink to take my brain pills in the parking lot. Two little pills down the hatch and two hours later I can tell.
At first you don't notice it. Back in the cockpit is a relief of course; but this is like the click of the safety harness and something relaxes after all those long hours in the cold dark water. The tiller fits into your hand again and the rudder seems to be responding - the cabin is dry behind the slides of plexiglass of the door.
The wind still whips sharp words and rain into your face, bare poles clatter and ring in time. "Fool! Weakling! Egotist! You puttin' on airs again, boy? Trying to get attention?" Over and over and over, never ceasing; flashes of shaming moments from childhood lightning through the towering crests of dark waves.
"WHAT IS IT?" she screamed at me. "HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO DO THIS?"
I swallowed and blinked rapidly as my eyes welled.
"I don't know," I whispered. I could feel the surface tension give and looked down quickly as the tears started sliding down my face.
"EIGHT TIMES SEVEN IS FIFTY SIX!"
I closed my eyes. I jerked my arm away but it was too late, the tip of the pencil was broken off in my arm.
Eight times seven is fifty six. I have a blue spot inside my left elbow to this day.
The flashes get slower and you realise the water isn't as high as it was before. The wind isn't quite as strong as it was a couple hours ago either. Time slips past as the crests of the waves get smoother.
My phone rings.
"Baruch atah Hashem elokaynu melech ha olam, borei prei hadamah." It is the blessing for things that come from the ground and are consumed. All plants with stems and seeds are available for humans to use wisely. One should make the blessing first.
The sun doesn't exactly come out; but I am once again the captain of my ship. I am not the repulsive monster that deserved to drown in the darkness last night. I am not going to let some bad weather keep me from the ones I love. I can sail that damned boat all the way to Mackay and I have a sukkah in the lazerette. Bring it.
Tomorrow I will be going to the grocery store to get Shabbos in the morning and cook while Baby Jew Lawyer is being tutored at school. Anyone who wants to come for a HOW TO SHABBOS 101 lesson and eat in Portland, OR or who can get here are welcome. Just email me at me at the gmail and I will give you the time and directions.
I think I'm going home Sunday morning. I'll sleep in my own bed, pick up my mail and sort out my UI now that I have a little wind back in my sails.
DKOS is one hell of a place and I am glad I stumbled in. Thank you all.