The Sea Refuses No River

I grew up on Long Island Sound. Not a gigantic body of water, but it was salt and had outlets to the ocean. I love the ocean. It has called to me ever since I was young. I would spend as much time as I could at the beach or on the water. I would got to friends summer homes on the Jersey Shore or up to Boston to visit with them and to see the ocean. I remember going to Maryland as a kid and standing on the beach with the Atlantic lapping its waves on my feet. I was in heaven.

I loved, especially, after spending an entire day at the beach when I would take a deep breath and feel my lungs tighten with a slight pain from at the salt sea air. There is nothing like the smell of the beach at low tide. Kind of funky and malodorous, yet something intriguing about it.

My most favorite times at the beach were in a storm or during winter. The sea is frightening yet mesmerizing at the same time. I can sit on a dock or a boat or the beach during the storms or winter and just lose myself in thought and feel as if I could float away in the breeze.

I remember the first time heading out in a friends catamaran where we lost sight of the shore. I was petrified and excited at the same time. I expected some terrible sea monster to lurch up out of the waters and swallow us whole. I deemed it a fitting way to die. Then my fear left me. It was then I wanted to head further out to the deeps. It seems my fear had turned into respect and that respect lives on today.

I never learned to sail myself, but I have read books about it. I have a dream about circumnavigating the globe in a yacht just to see of what I am made. Could I complete the journey? I don't know but I would love to try. I envision it all with me being alone, though I would love to be accompanied by a beautiful woman who shared my dreams and passions and was madly in love with me. However, I don't think any of those types of women exist sadly enough. I am the kind of guy, it seems of late, that women don't mind having around but never give a second thought or glance to. It is what is and I guess I am coming to terms with living out my days alone. What did Barbara Mandrell used to sing? "Sleeping single in a double bed." That is the cruelest fate of all.

So I turn to my love of the sea. It is much like a woman with its steely beauty that can change from peaceful serenity into a gale storm in a minute. It holds beauty untold and can transport you anywhere and yet it can be silent and still and leave you wondering if the tranquility can last forever.

While the sea can be unforgiving it is also welcoming. It, in the words of Pete Townshend, ...refuses no river. It doesn't care how dirty or pristine the river is it accepts it, welcomes it, blends with it. It holds life and whispers death. It contains creatures we don't even know about. There is more known about space then there is about the depths of the ocean. It is mysterious and I find that enticing. Compared to the ocean I am an insignificant speck and yet men like me have learned to harness its power and thrive in it and with it.

I live far from the ocean, smack dab in the middle of the country and I do not like swimming in rivers, or lakes, or ponds. They hold no appeal for me. To immerse myself into one of those bodies would be like being unfaithful to Lady Ocean. I can't do that, and so I don't. The sea calls to me, and if I am lucky enough to see a seagull I am filled with a brief joy and happiness that I have only ever found on or near the sea.

I am living on dry land and I am haunted by the ocean.