Like playing Arlo Guthrie's "Alice's Restaurant" every Thanksgiving, I thought you might enjoy this again. God Bless you, Joe. Stu *************** *************** One MAN'S OPINION September 16, 1997 Cruising World August 1995 I can no longer remain silent. At first I thought it was just a few eccentrics, but I am now afraid that I am beginning to see a pattern. I think that the final straw was the recent article I read on sailing in fog that said that if I didn't have a radar on my boat, perhaps I had misappropriated my boating budget. I must confess: I have no radar. Not only do I not have a radar, but I have no intentions of buying one. My new gear priorities list does not even contain this item. I must go on: I do not have a GPS. Can you imagine that I actually sail - even cruise - without one? There's more. I do not have roller furling. Yes, that's right. I actually have more than one jib and what is more, I have to hank it on - one hank at a time - every time I go sailing. Wait! When the wind is up and the seas build I actually go forward, on the top of the deck and - now get this - change to a different jib. Can you believe that anyone can be so primitive? More. My only electronics are a Loran (recently purchased), a speed/log, a depth sounder and a cheap VHF. Yes, I will admit it. My VHF is a low priced model! Furthermore, my electronics are not interlinked or whatever fancy jargon aficionados use to indicate that their electronics talk to each other. No, I do not have an anemometer. At times I can be caught standing on deck estimating the wind speed. I even go so far as to make sail changes based on the boat's sailing characteristics. I have never told anyone this, but I am ready to bare all: I don't have an apparent wind indicator. I am not lying. We use a piece of - I am so embarrassed - a piece of cassette tape tied to the shroud. I do believe it was from "Smurfs Do the Whitbread" or something like that. At any rate, we survive and make port without calling for assistance. We enjoy wonderful meals cooked on the Weber that hangs off the stern pulpit and corn on the cob cooked on, of all things, an alcohol stove. I could go on and on. By now you must have figured out that my boat is OLD (1973). Heaven forbid! It's hard to imagine that I could enjoy sailing under these abominable conditions, but the truth is that I am as addicted as the guy who has all the equipment. I am proud to say that my boat is not a marina queen - she lives on a mooring - from which it is easier to sail her. Her name is Trav'ler and I make sure she lives up to her name. We have lost sight of what this sport is all about. We have lost sight of nature, of ourselves, and our God, unless your God is powered by 12 volts. Mine is not. Once - and I remember this - an RDF was considered a luxury. I remember a trip in fog so thick (you know the cliché) and we made it home with nothing more than a compass, a depthsounder, a sumlog and a VHF. Once we even did a fog run without the sumlog, as it had broken. We just estimated our speed. I know my boat so well that I could estimate her speed within a fraction of a knot. What tremendous satisfaction there is in reaching your port using the true skills of a seaman. We often hear the lament of how non-sailors perceive our sport to be one that is reserved for the wealthy. Is it any wonder when we read articles about how we all should have radar, or how our latest mast project only cost $1,200? These are elitist statements made by people who know nothing about the lives most of us live. Sailing can be done safely and enjoyably on a budget and I feel it is about time that those of us who sail on a budget speak up. Joe Higgins Crystal Lake, Illinois