THE WHIMISAL LINEAGE IN THE NAME ROCINANTE

Tuesday January 12, 2010
St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands

The sun has recently set,
the sky shifting to a steely blue-black,
lots of stars now visible straight overhead.
Silvery white clouds seemly harvesting
the last glimmering rays of the sun,
bringing a friendly Casper-the-ghost blanket effect
to the rugged mountains below.

I am laying on my back, looking straight up.
There are vertical structures,
these tall, skinny, limbless spires,
straight and symmetrical,
so smooth their putty colored enameled surfaces.
Everywhere around my limited horizon,
these vertical structures pierce the sky.
the one closest, as it heads upwards,
makes increasing smaller Ts
till it ends fifty or more feet above me.
There are silvery straight angular lines
each running to the very top of the structures.

I am resident on my new home,
this thirty-eight foot sailboat
in the harbor of the Independent Boat Marina,
outside the small town of Red Hook, St. Thomas USVI..

It is seven thirty now and the temperature is about seventy-two.
Getting off the US Air flight earlier this afternoon
It was eighty-five
and I immediately headed into the shade.

The occasional motorized dinghy glides by
imperceptibly breaking the water’s surface.

The sky is now completely black.
The occasional street light lights up homes up in the hills,
Reflecting a zig-zag line of lantern lights seemingly glowing
From up from some submerged source within the water. .
The ever-so-slight ripples on the otherwise glassy surface,
Imbue the lantern’s light with a slow motion undulating effect.
It is a bit mesmerizing, not unlike the gentle flicker of candle light.

I began reading John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley
on the flight to St. Thomas today.
Steinbeck was fifty-eight when he and his dog (Charley)
soloed across America in the truck-camper insert.

I purchased my camper insert just after my fifty-eighth birthday.
Just before leaving Asheville this November,
My friend Eddie recommended I purchase this Steinbeck novel.
I am now clearly intuiting some of the resonances
from over fifty years ago.

This gypsy journey is now going on two months.
As I read about Steinbeck’s stops along his route,
I am sensing another wave of traveling wanderlust.
Perhaps I may retrace some portions of his trip.
I’ve wanted to see Nova Scotia
and stop back into see friends outside Montreal.
I am believing it is time to make a few refinements
To my traveling home.
Next on the list are some saddle pockets
That will hang under the sides of the camper.
These pockets would store a twelve foot canvas lawn tent
I place where I could setup office and have my feet on the ground.

By the way,
my truck-camper traveling home I christened the other day.
She is now called by the name, “Rocinante”.
This was the Name Steinbeck gave his truck-camper home.
I too whimsically borrow this name,
the lineage going all the way back to Don Quixote’s noble steed.