Just getting started

Part 1

I was born early in life, around the year 1949. I inherited my father's nomadic genes (or so my mother told me) and his aspirations to visit foreign soil. She once related that he had dreamed of moving to Australia and taking advantage of an offer for free land. It was their incentive for immigration. I got the impression that she considered his dream to be more of a curse (something I'm sure my wife can relate to).

He was born in Canada into a farming heritage and learned that the weather up north is harsh and not conducive to easy farming. Of course, farming has never been considered "easy" but an early plowing is next to impossible when the ground remains frozen until late spring. His wayfaring tendencies kicked in and he moved south to eventually buy a dairy farm in the fertile valley of Ellensburg, Washington where I was born and where he lived out his final days. Ironically, throughout his lifetime, his world travels were limited to the Pacific Northwest in the pursuit of an income from carpentry. He did very little farming beyond maintaining his 40 acres, which supported several pastures of alfalfa and a few pigs, chickens, and cows.

After his somewhat youthful passing (he was only 47), mother moved the family to Walla Walla, Washington and accepted a teaching position over second graders, which was all I ever knew her to do. I spent my youth in the landlocked, rolling hills of wheat; an unlikely place to nurture maritime ambitions. As fate would have it, however, the Snake and the Columbia rivers were close by and we were in the habit of occasionally spending time picnicking, swimming, and relaxing on their banks. I believe it was on one of these occasions while, as a lad, I watched the boats crissing and crossing and felt a stirring in my soul and I yearned to be “out there" and the curse was born.