The footsteps of giants...
It occurs to me that most people don't understand the plight of the sailor, the call of the sea. They think that sailing is a form of transportation. Well, I suppose it is, but sailing is not just going from place to place in a boat with sails - it is more than that.
The sailor strikes a compromise between the will of man and that of God - Between the ideal course and the fate that the unflinching elements of wind and water would put upon him.
On even the shortest foray upon the rolling heap, the sailor must not only contend with the adversities of wind and sea, but harness those very same forces - to bend the strength of the elements to his endeavor.
Command of a ship under sail is walking within the province of deity, yet with humility before the sea and her moods, earned without quarter in the trials of countless souls who have gone before.
This respect for mother ocean, for Neptune and his kin, or for the will of the one God comes from the simple fact that man must compromise to guide his vessel to ports afar, but the Sea suffers no such indignity. For the Sea bends not to the will of man, rather it remains unchanged, wild and ever renewed, suffering not even the footprints of giants if left within its surging reach.
Yet, for all its wildness, this fearsome, ever changing frontier tolerates the gentle wisp of a ship upon its face, but only if the respect due is paid - for the Sea has a peculiar hunger for the foolish and arrogant, for the unprepared and the unwary.
Fair winds, Gentle Reader, and may the seas nudge you gently from astern.
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