The first time I sailed to Las Palmas was 12 years ago almost to this day , a youngster learning to sail , with stars in my eyes and a whole new world of adventure opening up before me. The last time was last November , it was to be my last crossing , and I was so happy for it, thinking that 19 times was more then enough , I had seen a fair share of the World and adventured to my heart’s content , I had my mind full of promises and plans , dreams and images of the future.

I left the dock with a glowing heart , a letter for me had just arrived at the marina that very day , a love letter that I would read over and over again during the 27 days it took me to sail to Fort Lauderdale , a letter to remind me of the new life I was about to start when I reached America , land of new beginnings and endless promise.

Almost a year later here I am again , for all I know I can still come back another 20 times , there are no more promises or expectations , no letters, no hopes but for a safe passage and another boat at the other end .

I noticed that there are visitors from Charleston , South Carolina , reading this , I have a pretty close idea of who that might be and am not sure at all of what to think of it , but it obviously ocuppies a lotof my mind.

I see the pictures of devoted happiness and affection. It wouldn’t hurt to ease it a little on me and choose for the profile picture, the only one I can see , something like a simple smiling ( double , of course) head shot… but no , there’s a point to be made , fair enough. Never expected much mercy , how could I from someone who could not even offer a few kind soothing words to ease the pain of parting even if she didn’t feel any of it .Someone who will be a therapist should know the value of that, but no , no mercy, go away , go find you peace of mind , I’m so happy now , I never thought it was possible , see , all in a week or so after I forsook you , now I realize  that you were clearly a washout , a sickly broke vagrant without a hope of a normal life , and a terrible lover who never even came close to making me vaguely happy , despite anything I might have said or written at the time.

She didn’t write this , but that’s what reached me. And the house , the cutest little love nest , I don’t think I’m far off the mark if I venture that the supporting parents offered some great terms on a little cottage that was to be developed…. I may be wrong , and even if I’m right it’s perfectly legitimate and understandable , but how does that make me feel , the guy whose company they preferred to avoid , not disguising much their aversion to even having me stay overnight , let alone talk to me and ask me if I had any plans for my future with this girl who , incidentally , had said Yes when I asked her “Will you marry me? “.

On my knees , at a restaurant in London , to where I had flown to see her and dry her tears.I did’t go properly about the expected US Standard for Proposals , and the ring was the wrong kind , it had a nice story that you don’t get from any jeweler , but  helas , no  diamonds , so my intentions and determination could not be taken seriously. I’ll never forget and I’ll never forgive.

I only named this blog Looking Forward , after Crossing America , because many months ago that was all she was doing , looking forward for this , for that , for summer, for the beach , for a new dog , generally looking forward for the beautiful perfect fairy tale of such romantic heights that poets will write songs about it in decades to come. So I needed to look forward too , but I haven’t much . Now not only I’m looking forward again , I’m going forward. I’ll reclaim my dreams , bury this sick , wrong , misplaced , hurtful love that has dragged me down so deep . I will bury it , maybe under a ton of sorrow , remorse , resentment and bitterness but bury it never the less , bury it in the middle of the Ocean tearing up every old vow and making some new ones.

This was the last time I referred to her here.

Being in Las Palmas amongst hundreds of ocean going boats and sailors  gives me a measure of myself again.

I am a legend , and I am going forward.

Last week I went with my crew to Bordeaux , a beautiful city in Western France , down the river Garonne , more famous for wine than boats , yet it features one of the worlds’ biggest catamaran shipyards .

We landed in Paris on a Friday afternoon and I drove straight off despite the fact that the yard would only hand me the boat on Monday and we had been in planes and airports for over 28 hours. I drove for 7 hours straight and got to Bordeaux late at night.

The next morning the boys took to the city with the spirit of the sailor on shore leave in a new harbor , luckily this time they both had their private means so I didn’t have to cover their explorations. I had been to Bordeaux more than once , don’t feel much like company and will have 2 months to live with them anyway , so I let them go , slept in and in the afternoon I wondered by myself around the city , so much prettier than when I was here last , now with a light rail tram running it’s length and breath , the riverfront beautifully spruced up and the buildings cleaned , this being a Saturday lots of people out enjoying the highly unusual warm and sunny weather

I could see my new command on the other side of the river , a new 50ft catamaran , my heart lifted.

I walked for hours along the riverfront and its parks and gardens. The smiling faces , the children , the lovers , the groups of friends , the families, the proud grandparents , caring mothers , watchful fathers , curious boys , lovely little girls, the dogs. At least now I’m reconciled with the idea that I’m not to have a family of my own. “If it was meant to happen it would have happened” . If I don’t wish for the impossible I’ll never be disappointed again.

Night falls , and instinct or reflex tell me to go to the nearest bar , but I don’t. I know well by now that my sorrows have learned to swim , I only spend money , make a fool of myself , smoke damned cigarettes and set myself up for a nasty morning. Getting older is not all bad , you get to know yourself better and become a little , just a little , wiser.

I go back to the hotel and try to watch TV , but I lost the habit a while ago , plus the French practice of dubbing everything makes it impossible to watch a movie or show. I watch the news but Scrubs in French , try to imagine that… I can’t read , I’m wide awake , I toss and turn in bed , my mind in Charleston past and present , this lump in my throat and this feeling of helplessness. It takes me too long to fall asleep. It’s been so long.

The next day Dave flies in from England to see me. It’s now 10 years since we’ve been friends, an unlikely pair at that , in these 10 years we have grown so fond of each other , we know each other so well and helped each other in hard times. Anne says I helped preventing them getting divorced 6 years ago , and they helped me in my darkest hours from thousands of miles away , trying to make me see that I’m worth more than I give myself credit for, that comparing myself to another man is poison to the mind , throwing me the lifeline of my past accomplishments , reminding me of my faded dreams and of all the people who love me and will never betray my trust , urging me to hold my head up. He is one of my oldest and dearest friends and knows the whole story of my love ,but we didn’t speak her name or talked about her once , he still doesn’t know she’s engaged to be married , but knows that I’m not the same , he can see the open wound like only friends can.

Although we hadn’t planned it he will sail with me to the Canary Islands , and I’m happy for it. It’s nice to be able to that for your friends.

Monday early morning I’m at the yard with my boys to take charge of things. Yes , I speak French , yes , I know these boats and yes, I have done this before. I come into my own now , helplessness gone , I have things to do , I do them and Tuesday afternoon I am sailing on the ebb down the Garonne , 30 hours after we joined her , 60 miles to the Atlantic , 1300 to Las Palmas.

I’m not an outstanding Captain but am not a bad one either, or else people would have long ago stopped handing me boats like this one, worth one million dollars , to sail across the Ocean in all weathers.

There are warnings out , gales are brewing and waiting for us in Biscay and Finisterre , but the crew trusts me , I trust the boat , know the waters and am keen on thick weather anyway. Riding storms makes me feel alive , special , and close to my destiny.

So off I go again . Captain of an ocean going sail boat , that’s me , what defines me , it’s  the best I’ll ever make,  the pinnacle of my career ambitions. A childhood dream , no less , and I tend to forget sometimes ….

Still , if I could I  would give it all up in a heartbeat for another chance at  making my Princess happy.
I sometimes wish I never knew what it was to have someone thinking of me and waiting for me on the other shore , because you can’t miss what you never had .

Brett Favre

I know very little about American football. I like to watch , though , and I get the gist of things , I can follow a game , sort of.

Years ago I was in this bar in Bethesda , it must have been Monday , there were a lot of games on. For each drink you had the bartender gave you a number for a raffle. I gathered a few of these and ended up winning a Packers jersey , Brett Favre’s number.

I learned then that they are the only professional team that is owned by the city instead of a corporation or a millionaire. They are also the only team that never left their original city. Also they wear green , like my beloved Sporting Clube de Portugal , and I became an instant fan.

I more or less followed this ordeal of his retiring or not , his struggle between leaving the game or playing at an inferior level. I could see him torn up , fighting against the inevitable , a man gets old , his team moves on , but he loves the game so much that he doesn’t care about scorn ,  criticism or dismissive interpretations, he goes back in , to do what he does , the best he can.

Last week I saw the final minutes of the Vikings vs the 49ers . I have a soft spot for San Francisco and couldn’t care less for Minnesota but when , with few  seconds to go Favre gets the ball , everybody starts running , he feints , turns , looks around , looks forward , places himself just so and hurls the ball clear across , I don’t know , half the field, precisely to the hands of this guy that comes flying in from the left  side , keeping clear of the defender , barely inside the line , catches it, and wins the game…I cheered and felt really happy. It was fantastic .

I’m far from being a good judge of these things , but for me he will always be the best qaurterback ever. Ok , I can only name about 5 quarterbacks , but still , Favre is the man.Legendary.

He is also one of my  images , icons if you will , of America  that predates my falling in love and consequent disgrace , so the Packers and Favre are some of the few things around  that are not wired live and directly to my sweetest and bitterest memories .

And he had words of wisdom for the  Packers fans as they are about to play the Vikings : “It was good , it’s over , let it go”.

Listen to this , it’s a beautiful song, and bi-lingual…

It’s a fight, but only against myself and my own vicious little demons.  So I’m glad  to be off to the best place on the planet to carry on these fights. The middle of the Ocean. I will prevail in the end , whenever that end will come , but I know very well that even when the pain is gone , the memory will always live with me. My fight is not to forget , is to be able to live with it.

Summer’s gone

and what a Summer.What a year this has been.The Chinese can take their Astrology and shove it. The year of the fucking ox , all good things coming to the natives of the ox.

I realized , after a little research and some checklists ,  that I have all but one of the symptoms of clinical depression. At least I have no suicidal thoughts.Anymore. Just kidding , never really had , except a couple of times offshore , but the notion that I would be bringing huge pain to a lot of people is more then enough to keep things real.

The good doctors say that if the symptoms hold for more then 2 weeks one should seek  help. Well, two weeks , 7 months , it’s pretty close. I will not “seek help” , not because I’m afraid to be thought  weak.I am weak. It’s because other then renting me a  shoulder to cry on and  selling me  happy pills , they can’t help me. No one can , and that’s what makes this whole thing so scary

Kelly Clarkson has grown fat and Jorge Palma sunk in terminal alcoholism. How appropriate

Saturday night ball games

So off the the Well to watch Portugal play Denmark for a crucial  qualifier for the  World Cup finals next year in South Africa. Since I know Perfect Paul has in interest in football  proper there I sit wishing that sometime along your evening , he would switch to watch the US getting hammered by El Salvador.In the ticker below would flash “Portugal demolishes Denmark with class and flair”. Well , the US won , good for them , we drew but put up a hell of a fight and were always the better team, and on the other screen there went USC’s football team reminding me that as long as I’m here , there’s no getting away .

Last night I was in Amsterdam , making the best of an unforeseen layover. At some point pottering up  a canal comes this open 8 ft boat , about 3ft beam , carrying  7 people and propelled by an ancient outboard of some 3hp. A good part of the crew is drinking and all the crew is very merry.There’s not a life jacket to be seen , the port gunwale is about 4 inches from the water .

It was a beautiful Summer night in a country where Summertime is very appreciated ,  I was thinking how inconceivable all this this would be in the canals of Fort Lauderdale  and that all things considered I still prefer the European way of doing things….