Part of my productivity today was slightly above average. This is an op/ed
piece for a regional boating mag.....but when I got done with it I thought it
would probably read about as well regardless of one's geographic point of
reference.

In the interest of some additional boating-related content in the NG, here's a
peek for anybody that might be interested:

**********

Boating in Paradise


If I try to lead a good clean life, (and if St. Peter doesn't check his list
too carefully), I just might sneak through the side door of Boaters' Heaven
when I die. If so, I suspect I'll arrive with at least a little bit of local
knowledge. When they carved the depths and shorelines of Boaters' Heaven, they
must have used our regional waters as a prototype. If my wife, my family, my
friends, and my boat are there I'm sure I'll feel right at home.

There will be glorious warm days in Boaters' Heaven; moments when quicksilver
sunrays race like flying fish through ruffled green waters and the feather soft
air smells purified by salt. There will be nights when every cut glass star's
alight, telling tales of ancient heroes in the sky. But there will be days when
we are humbled, rather than cradled by the sea. There will be hours of Divine
Energy overwhelming our abilities to comprehend or adapt to the clattering
flood and the moaning furies. There will be ordinary days of somber
perseverance: half dark, half light, with clouds on the brow and occasional
gusts from unfavorable quarters. The cool, mundane, and misty days will be part
of our reward, preventing the warm and glorious days from becoming common and
predictable.

When I get to Boaters' Heaven, my activities will be limited only by my
imagination.
On any given day I could fish, cruise, explore, write, take photos, make music,
or just hang out at the dock. There will be scores of interesting parks,
wilderness coves, and charming seaside villages within a few hours' cruise from
home port. I'll be able to go boating almost every day of the year, and never
have the same experience twice.

If things don't wear out or break in Boaters' Heaven, I'm not sure I'd want to
go. Half the fun of life seems to revolve around solving problems- fixing the
machinery and relationships of living. There will have to be an element of
chance that challenges the mind and spirit to improve the odds. Too much
certainty would be boring, and eternity would be a very long time to suffer
boredom.

I hope they don't pass out perfect bodies in Boater's Heaven, either. After all
these years, I've completely forgotten how to use a comb any higher up the head
than the crest of the ears. (It would be OK, however, if I were no longer
allergic to crab).

I hope there are lots of people in Boaters' Heaven, and that they are not too
very much alike. Not all of them will be friendly, intelligent, or even always
polite. Part of our gift will be the days when the human psyche has clouds on
the brow and unexpected winds blow from inopportune quarters.

The water in Boaters' Heaven will be a place of soothing magic. No matter how
crazy things may get ashore, no matter how challenging or arbitrary the world
seems to become, the primordial cycle of the tides, the "scraw-a-a-a-a" of
swirling gulls and the gentle caress of the sea against a stout hull will
refocus the soul on the energy of eternity rather than the dysfunction of the
day.

Yes, if I lead a good clean life (and plead not guilty by reason of insanity) I
just might wind up in Boaters' Heaven. As I survey my life and the world around
me, imperfect as both may be, I have to wonder whether all of us in this corner
of the world aren't secretly there, already.