Some mornings are tinged with gold. It was a quiet Friday morning in the islands. Ribbons of fog were caught in the branches of the shoreline trees like white threads. The sun was glistening gold on the water as I drifted in the West Channel enjoying coffee and quiet and thinking about the week.
Thank you for all the nice comments on this week’s essay “From Boom Vangs to Bimini” (if you missed it, here’s the link)
Thanks too for so many of you offering your own favorite nautical phrases. Language is the paintbrush of our imaginations and it colors the world of boats and boating in bold strokes. To learn the language of something you love is a sign of respect - like trying to speak at least a little of the native language of a place you are visiting. The right names for things are a kind of map we draw with words and the more precise the words we use, the more accurate the map.
I was thinking of all this, drifting in the West Channel this morning, sipping coffee when I thought of another, more personal nautical phrase I often use - “coffee run.” To most people, I suppose, it would be running out to pick up some coffee. For me, it has a little different meaning. The Little Dipper is a small boat, just 16 feet long. In waves, it is too bouncy to drink coffee when you are underway without risking getting it up your nose or down your shirt, or both. But some mornings … ah, some mornings … the lake is so smooth I can run along at full speed sipping coffee without spilling a drop.
I started the engine, spun the Little Dipper back towards the Bayfield harbor, and smiled. It was going to be a “coffee run” all the way home.
See you next week from the Little Dipper.
— Jeff
Postcards from the Edge