by Sailor John
We live in a secret place where favorable breezes blow and the sun shines. We won't come right out and tell you where it is, because we are afraid that everyone reading this might not be a sailor. There is a limit to how many may come here without changing our town forever. We know that, when the secret gets out, many will come. We would like for most of them to be sailors, because this is, after all a sailors’ Shangri-La.
Every morning the sun comes up over a gentle ocean. Sailors go through their morning routine and congregate at the yacht club. Those who love to sail but don't own boats, join in because they know that the skippers need crew and that they are welcome. Each has his cooler with a sandwich and favorite beverage and anticipation of another perfect day sailing on a blue ocean. The ceremonial process is precisely timed so that the small fleet of sailboats cruise out of the picturesque inlet just as the sea breeze begins to blow; first as a gentle whisper, and then building to a steady fifteen knots with a procession of white caps marching toward the white beaches. The beautiful sand dunes, the lighthouse on the north side of the inlet, the rock jetty with swells throwing spray, and the sea buoy with its tolling bell all fade into the distance as the fleet rollicks out to the open ocean.
Some days there is a race. Other days they sail on a close reach letting the boats churn through the swells like they are free to play. At two o'clock in the afternoon, the fleet returns to the inlet and darts on the building breeze back toward the yacht club. The skippers and the crew all meet at the bar to decide just how perfect the day was. The friendly chatter, mostly about sailing, continues through the cocktail hour as the gentle afternoon shower assures that the oleanders, hibiscus, and bougainvillea decorate the landscape with their blossoms.
Of course it is not always perfect in our little paradise. There is a short winter, but that helps the sailors to appreciate the spring when it comes. An occasional cold front will come down from the less fortunate lands of the north. When that happens, the sailors may content themselves to sail in the river or even to just come to the bar in the afternoon. In the summer, the gentle shower may rumble with thunder, but it is unusual for that to happen before the fleet is safely at the dock. Hurricanes occasionally threaten and the sailors get nervous. They put extra lines on their boats and cross their fingers and knock on wood. Fortunately, the hurricanes never come. They wonder out to sea and reap their destruction in other places. At least that is what has always happened in the past.
Where is this mythological Shangri-La? How far do you have to travel to get there? Can you sail there without crossing oceans? The good new is, it is not mythological, it is relatively nearby for those on the east coast, and you can reach it on the ICW. If you are a sailor and really want to know more, visit the website listed at the end of this article. If you are not a sailor, well, feel free to visit (briefly) anyway.
Sailor Jacobs is a real person that lives in a real town.