à
Caroline,
Tango
J
class.
Onlookers
at
a dance hall
reminds me
of a
yachting
event.
Spectators
at such gathering
can marvel
at the
elegant
shape of the hulls
and
their
generous set of sails
manoeuvering
under the
commanding hand
of their
inspired
captains.
Splendid
as it may
be,
the spectacle
is
only
a fragment
of what is
happening,
the essential
lying
elsewhere.
Unles
they
are conversant with sailing,
how would
they know
that there
is more happening under the waterline
than one can
observe on the surface of the sea?
It is the
weight
and
inclination
of the keel
that conjure
up the magic
and allows
the nimble dance,
going
against
the wind
as it may
be.
And,
in a
critical
situation
like a
regatta,
the
connection
between man
and machine
is paramount.
But a
dance
is a dance
not a
competition
of sorts
(although
hearts can be racing at time.)
The
connection
is not
between man
and machine,
the
connection
is
between a
singing heart
and
a listening
soul.
Music
like
the wind
lift our
sails
and supply
the energy.
Music and Desire.
The
intense
desire
to connect
deeply.
The
deeper
the connection,
the better
the dance.
Go deep,
deeper,
to
unfathomable
depth
if you can,
and watch
the tide of
magic
rising,
unfurling,
and
overtaking
you
body and
soul.
You will
travel
far,
to Cythera
maybe
if
the vessel
is seaworthy.
A caveat:
not all the
ships are equipped for such a destination.
I happen
to
know one who has legs
and can
undetake
it.
HMS
Caroline
is built to
Veritas
standards.
If,
you are
lucky
enough
to be
invited
aboard,
do not hesitate,
(you may keep your shoes on)
connect
with
her
deeply
and she will
give you
the whole nine yards.
See
your heart
be lifted at once
under the
action
of a gentle
breeze
and your
soul
will bask
in
the glorious
morning
sun.
A
memorable
adventure
indeed,
a moment to
be cherished
forever.
