Text & Illustrations by Don Burgett

With apologies to Joshua Slocum for using the title he chose to tell about his circumnavigation, I can relate my excuses for not completing my tour, by sail, around the globe.

After a long career transporting cargo by clipper ships between 1858 and 1895, Slocum retired and set out in his 39-foot sloop Spray to become the first man to sail, solo, around the world. He was 51 when he began his voyage and there have been older men who followed in his wake.

When I was 51, I had been sailing an inland lake for 12 years, dreaming of being on the sea. By this time, I had already “sailed” the seven seas, at high altitude, in Air Force jet aircraft. Trained in the art of celestial navigation, I often took my crew on Great Circle routes spanning the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. I retired from that career just as Navigators were being replaced by technology.

After sailing an inland lake for more than a decade, I began to campaign with the wife, getting her on board with the idea of living aboard a sailboat, moving up and down coastal waters, visiting harbor towns, meeting new people, crossing oceans, expanding our horizons, etc. I thought aloud about the charm of Polynesian islands, beautiful sunsets, the freedoms .…

She said, “NO!”

I’m not going, I thought.

— — —

I had become an email buddy to Ed Whitcomb who had sailed around the world and who had also been an Air Force Navigator. We exchanged stories about navigating by celestial in the air and, in his case, on the ocean. We never talked about his political career as Governor of Indiana but he opened up to me about the extreme loneliness suffered by solo circumnavigators. I had read accounts by others who talked of despair, hallucinations and near madness.

I’m not going.

Loneliness is on my shoulder now. My wife and I are in the 67th year of our marriage. Women usually outlive their husbands and they are left with the added burden of loneliness. In our case, dementia has taken my wife from our home to a care facility.

She is well cared for and I’m very grateful to those watching over her. I am 86 years old. My goal is to stay with it as long as necessary to continue her care. I had visited her every day until Covid curtailed all outside contacts, so I talk with her on the phone and worry about her and miss her terribly.

It occurs to me that I might just as well be at sea, shooting the stars, borrowing the wind to make my crossing.

Loneliness, there can’t be much worse than it is here. This house didn’t seem to be large when we built it, but now, as the only habitant, it is cavernous. Talking to myself would be okay if I were getting reasonable answers. I usually do not notice stray noises but hearing something when I am alone makes me think the wife is in the house and I have to shake that off.

I’m still in good shape… well, not so much shape as good condition. But I haven’t sailed at all this year. I’m sure I can climb aboard but wonder whether I would be a help to the crew or a hinderance. No more deck work, especially the foredeck. I could hang out in the cabin and pass drinks up to the crew. I can still steer. I hope Covid will pass and the crew will hoist me aboard for a sail or two to the north end of the lake and back.

I’ll keep going as long as I can, sailing alone around the house.

– – ssl – –

Editor’s Note: I seldom go to bars, but for a lunch break I went to an “old man” bar in the small downtown of Lebanon, Illinois, because I had heard their food was very good. Ron’s Lounge is a dark, comfortable bar, where, as I enjoyed my food, I eavesdropped on two men bantering at the bar. One was Don.

I do enjoy random chats. I sometimes joke that the only muscles in my body are in my mouth. “I could pull a train with ’em.” So, we had a long, deep chat. After a piece, we started discussing Slocum’s book, one that has intrigued me from an early age. It was apparent that Don was a Renaissance man. He could fly, he had deep political knowledge, he was open to the world, and good at many things. So, I said, “Please do write a piece for my online magazine.”

Amazingly, the first excellent draft of the above poetic essay appeared in my email inbox the next morning. I then implored him to make some sketches.

– – – ssl – – –