I don’t have a newspaper anymore, and I don’t care for their pension to showcase the bad news of the day. The VHF is my morning news radio, and I listened to the automated, emotionless weather voice over coffee and decided to skip the morning fog but take advantage of the freshening afternoon winds. I also wanted to arrive at Morro Bay with lots of daylight hours left.
So I motored out of San Simeon Bay at noon and raised the mizzen sail, and then deployed a full genoa. I took one last glance and one last picture of this beautiful coastal California bay. It’s everything the guidebooks promise… eucalyptus trees on top of caves in the cliffs.
The seas were as flat as I’ve seen in days and I was exalted by the glistening kelp and mirror blue sheen, which means to me NO ROLLIES, but also little wind. The scene was magnificent, and full of meaning, and I was at a loss for words.
When someone says “I have no words to describe this experience or scene”, they may mean either one of two things: “I don’t have the language”. For example if the scene if soft and the colors are muted maybe the author doesn’t know the word “pastel” to describe the colors. It’s the frustrating limit of language we all confront. On the other hand they may mean “my experience is beyond my own understanding.” such as ” (I) put out my hand, and touched the face of God. Or as it is translated from the Bible “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding. This whatever-you-call-it beyond the domain of logic and reasonableness is a mystical, spiritual experience. And though it can’t be fully described, it is fully human, and it can be found anywhere.
I found it while sailing Raven’s Dance alone south from San Simeon to Morro Bay today.