​It’s 0945, on Thursday morning.  I was on the 0600 watch, so was treated to a beautiful sunrise.  My second of the trip - the first coming on Tuesday morning.  With so few distractions on the boat, it’s easy to appreciate some of nature’s free gifts.  ​

​​It’s 1030 on Wednesday morning, Halloween.  I’m sitting in the cockpit, tucked under the dodger, looking towards the stern of the boat and the vast sea we’ve crossed in the last 24 hours.  The sky is a light blue and cloudless, sun shining and warm.

​I’m lounging in the “saloon” of Tango, my new home for the next couple weeks.  Despite the name, the only exposure to alcohol is in the DayQuil I’ve been sucking down today, trying to kick a head cold before going to sea in the morning.  Its 1600 (4pm) on Monday - we point the bow into Long Island Sound, our of the town of Westbrook, at 0630.

Since arriving to the boat two days ago, I have learned much about the crew, their idiosyncrasies, and could write several chapters already about their antics.  For now, I’ll share some background on the cast of characters.  Plenty of time at sea to unpack their stories. 

​Perhaps my head cold didn’t crush all my efforts.  Sunday arrived in a slight haze.  

These old guys haven’t learned how to sleep in.  At 7am, the boat was a buzz of activity.  Thankfully, my noise cancelling headphones, which Tara despises at home, came in handy.  We don’t leave for two days, let’s all just relax.  Be cool, Richard.  Be cool.

As yesterday was gloomy, rainy, and aside from running errands, was crammed with a two-hour safety briefing inside, today was spent topsides.  We rigged the boat (attached all the lines connecting sails to tackle and winches) and did a run-through of various sailing and reefing (shortening sail) techniques.  ​

​My flight from Denver landed on Friday night around 11:30 in Hartford.  After a short Uber downtown, I checked into the Hilton, showered, and crawled into bed.  I felt a cold coming on as we landed, and the pressure equalized.  Not a good sign to start the trip.

On Saturday morning, after snoozing several times, I hopped out of bed, put on the same outfit (having learned that a change of clothes while at sea is a waste) and checked out.  I realized that I was in the heart of Hartford.  The wind was whipping up, and it was rainy.  Perfect travel day, but really nasty and cold weather.  

The drive south to Westbrook was spent on the phone with my mom.  It had been a couple weeks since we caught up, so was good to download the goings on in both our lives.  I often credit her with this adventure mentality.  Not that her “making it” to Sheboygan, Wisconsin was some grand feat, but escaping a one-horse town in North Dakota for college and an out-of-state move was well ahead of the times.  She has always encouraged me to spread my wings, seek adventure, live life, etc.  That said, she’s probably the most anxious about my leaving the safety of the shore and heading into the Atlantic.  I imagine the call calmed her nerves a little.  Talked Badger football with pops for a few minutes as well.  Safe territory for us both - we’re too proud to share any emotion, but I know he loves me.  Feeling is mutual.