My day started fairly poorly, as I mentioned in an earlier blog. After the application of the balms of caffeine and good friends, I gathered my courage and went home to face the mess of the ages. To my surprise, I accomplished more than I expected. The area I’ve been working on had been frustrating me, just couldn’t seem to find what to do with all the objects taking up volume. (My idea of shovelling it all into the storage space was nixed, unfortunately <g>). Today the end (of this portion of the tangle), could be seen by the time I was done.  
Anyhow, a healthy backache aquired, followed by some time exercising my incompetence with the six string, and I made my way back to the coffee shop to log in. On the way, I realized that it was a perfect sailing day. This added to my misery. I didn’t acquire a lot of sailing skills in the time I had access to it, but I enjoyed it more than perhaps any other activity I’ve ever tried. It hurt to be face to face with it being out of reach. Dep had me in a headlock, in other words.  
No sooner had I sat down on my couch, coffee in hand and chat running full tilt, than I realized that I wasn’t gonna make it through the day sane unless something gave. Inspiration arrived.
You know how it is, if you live in a tourist town, you forget about the tourist traps that form an obstacle course to your day. I bet there are folks who live within a mile of the louvre who’ve never visited. Well, there’s a two masted wooden schooner, a replica of a merchantman from the 1700’s that sails out three times daily from the wharf down the block from my house. It wouldn’t be remotely the same as going out in the little dinghies I had sailed, but at least I’d be on the water, and could feel the wind. And if I wasn’t alone in truth, I could be alone in theory with a little focus.
Checked the web, saw that if I left right then I could catch the sunset sail, and bailed. I was surprised when I paid, it cost a little more than I had thought it would, but she explained to me that it was more expensive on this sail because of the music. Music? Hmmmm…..
I sat up near the bows, and ended up sharing seat space with the band. A five man group in period costumes who sang sea shanties acapella, played irish jigs with fiddle, guitar, accordian, and harp, and so on and so forth. They were incredible. While heading out on a close reach, I was in the sun, listening to the tunes, on occasion serving as a music stand and nearly crying from relief. Sea air smells different when you’re out on it.  
It took some juggling of the funky mandolin to buy a beer, but that was kinda fun too. I’d tell you what kind it was, but I asked as the ship was coming about, and the snap of the sails made it impossible to make out. Octo- something? Octive mebbe.
Kept having to get up to let the crew onto the ‘forecastle’ (wasn’t quite deserving of that name, but darned if I know what else to call it). Poor folks had to dodge around me, the musicians and the fifteen instruments the guys brought. At one point, one of ’em nearly fell, and the singer caught her and then proceeded to lead her in a dance. A jig?  
On the run, I lost my sunny spot, which almost made me unhappy until I realized that the not-quite setting sun was doing some fascinating things with the clouds. Watching one of the crew furl the jib was an education. Poor girl was balancing on a stay, keeping her balance with her elbows while furling with her hands. I’d have been swimming for certain, if it was me.  
As we debarked, an old couple danced one of those old fashioned dances on the dock, while another nice old lady pulled me aside and told me I had a fabulous smile. Hadn’t even realized I’d been smiling.  
The upshot was, I left the boat feeling more grounded (and a tad buzzed, a beer on an empty stomache is NOT a good idea for a lightweight like me). Going out on the ocean to get grounded? Hell, why not? Can’t say as my mood’s lifted exactly, but I got a chance to breathe, and I spent two hours feeling the wind instead of feeling the pain. Not a bad investment, overall.