Victualing

Victualing (provisioning) - that's what 18th century sailors called it and that's what we're starting to do and because of that, it finally feels like we'll be leaving soon because that's the last thing one usually does before setting out.  After a year and a half of boat shopping, buying, repairing and upgrading, we're just beginning to provision Malo for the first leg of our trip south and that feels so good to me.  It's been a long hall and we've worked hard, harder than I've worked in a long time but the proverbial light is finally visible at the end of our tunnel.  We starting early on provisioning because we're a bit ahead of schedule.  We've been doing "bonus" tasks, things that aren't necessary for a safe passage but will make our travels more enjoyable and comfortable like making bug screens for the hatches and oiling the teak.  

The Victualing Board of the Royal Navy allowed the following weekly allowance or provisions for every person serving on British ships:

 7 Pounds Bisket
 7 Gallons of Beer/Measures of Wine
 4 Pounds Beef
 2 Pounds Pork
 2 Pints Winchester Measure Pease 
 1.5 Pints Winchester Measure Oatmeal
 6 Ounces Sugar
 6 Ounces Butter
12 Ounces Cheese

It doesn't sound like too bad of a diet when you read it but I understand that the reality of 18th century sailing food, most of it packed in wooden barrels, was, let's say, gastronomically challenging, especially at the end of long voyages.  It also seems that they hadn't invented power bars or ramen noodles yet.  Hard times indeed.

Besides provisioning we've been taking more time off to visit with friends, walk the beach, we even went to Saturday Market in Newport.  The last time we visited the beach the light, wind and water was just perfect.  

As we strolled the beach I noticed the light refracting and reflecting off the water.

                        

The next day, at dusk, after a full day of electrical work on Malo Bev and I walked out on a nearby dock that went out into Yaquina Bay.  I leaned over the railing and gazed into the water below and become transfixed.  

Light waves, liquid waves and waves of wind all colliding to create an amazingly complex and beautiful scene.  One of the interesting aspect of aging is the cerebral soup one lives in, a interesting mix of the past and present.  I was reminded of a poem by Japan's Emperor Hirohito read to the chiefs of Japan's Army and Navy just before their attack on Pear Harbor:

All the seas, in every quarter,

are as brothers to one another.

Why, then, do the winds and waves of strife

rage so turbulently throughout the world?

Why indeed?  It seem to me we are more alike than different and where we are different,  strength flows from that contrast and the benefit of different perspectives.  So yes, why indeed to we often clash in strife & rage.  Why may we not instead clash and blend in an enthropic tempest of beauty and harmony?