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NANCY MILLER's avatar

Tod, this was really a great read, and it strangely reminded me of the Dwarf Pine, which is that story George asked us to read for next week (and I did that, though the last 2 weeks have been incredibly hectic, and there is so much material on all these fantastic Substack platforms that I can't get to all the ones I want to get to all the time, but I digress...).

Anyway, you write about boats a lot, and you are living on one, and it honestly wasn't until this very moment that I realized the boat as metaphor -- we rebuild ships from trashed hulks in the same painstaking way we make the attempt to transform or rebuild ourselves. We take the splintered wood and reinforce it, and isn't this what the Dwarf Pine is also kind of about? I was going to bring this up next week, but it's that idea of this man in the Gulag, writing about a wintering tree and how it survives despite the harsh conditions. The comparison just hits me today. The one passage that resonated with me was:

"The point for us is more mundane, that is, to stay afloat with some respectability and integrity for a few more years. We both have some time left. Neither are dumpster material just yet."

It's that theme of maintaining one's dignity, one's independence for as long as possible, that resolve that come what may, we are not yet "dumpster material." Powerful!

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Monica Sharp's avatar

Melville! I love this rich vein with you and the Sea Gypsy. I am sure you could go on for ages and I wish you would.

Now I need some Hood Canal seafood. God, what I wouldn't do for a freshly shucked dozen on the halfshell with a squeeze of lemon, or once on Ballard Locks with champagne ice, but that's a bit too rich even for my blood. Once in New Orleans I ate 36 oysters, washed down with two longnecks and an untold number of little crackers. That was when it was called the Gulf of Mexico and it still is. I mean, honestly.

I am a seafaring bird at my salty salty heart. Some people crave mountains, I am all water. All the time. Maritime salt a must. Words like this are a balm for my landsick soul.

Tally ho! please write mo.

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