A long way from home - big hugs Matty
Thursday, January 14th, 2010
Matt Smith is from St Ives. He’s understated, is respected, surf’s well, fishes well, lives life well. We can happily say, he is a friend, we’ve supported him over the last couple of years and just recently, him and a mate, have taken to the sea.
They patched together a small sailing boat in Gweek, a small boating and fishing town on the South Coast of Cornwall and set sail - no real plan, just throwing a little caution to the wind.
Tommy Kay and I went and saw them before they set off, exchanged a few smiles and hugs and haven’t heard much since, nor did we expect to. We received a lovely letter just before Christmas and since - nothing.
Then to our surprise a little snippet from his journal was shared with us via email, probably sent from one of those archaic, post utopian cyber cafes. In any event, he sent it and it arrived.
Their are many beautiful happenings that happen on land, watching a clustering group of a thousand starlings settle at dusk. I am a creature of land and i feel at home there. But equally i feel i am born to be with the ocean, we’re friends, we’re tight. It has been and always will be true, it can be counted on. Cape finisterre, and the bay of Biscay were true. Truly beautiful, Crossing the channel in Gale force 9 winds and very rough sea, surfing our way through the tail end of a Atlantic pressure system was the only way to start our voyage, i was aware there would be days like these.
After punching through for a couple days the wind backed NNE and it was beautiful down wind sailing. The jackets were perfect they had me wanting for nothing. Nothing. Whilst writing this i am on land i have been for three days and i am itching for a passage, to be sailing, to be at the mercy, to be trusted. And to sleep, I find it hard to sleep, it takes me hours to, i get too excited, but whilst at sea i am like a baby as soon as i have given up my watch, the motion seems to be a perfect rhythm, Wether down wind rocking, or on her heel, its like time on the ocean has nurtured me.
The Idea of starting 2010 spent on a voyage passing the atlantic ocean seems more natural that drinking water or looking a person in the eye. I have dreamed and imagined this ocean deep and dark for most years of my life, it doesn’t scare me in the slightest, it welcomes me, that isn’t to say i do not fear or respect it. I do. I will not be bitter or disappointed as i have tried to leave expectation alone for a long time, its hard but necessary. I hope to find fish and i hope they find me, as so far i have had not bite, they say the oceans are being fished out.. I believe thats true.
this is just an extract from my diary but with a finisterre added.