Thursday, February 4, 2021


by Ray Jason


Wake up, Humanity! What will it take before you snap out of your trance and realize that this Wuhan Virus “pandemic” is the most malicious fraud ever devised. It is the only psychological operation that has been attempted on a global scale. Even World War I and World War II did not bludgeon the entire planet.

What will it take before you realize that when the “experts” look into the TV cameras and tell you that this is about your health, they are lying. This is about submission and domination. This is about confusing you and demoralizing you and completely breaking your spirit. How else do you explain their latest gleeful atrocity … anal swabs.

Our Malignant Overlords have been carefully monitoring our reactions to this scamdemic, and they now believe that the masses are so docile that they will accept almost any level of degradation. The lunacy of detecting a respiratory ailment with a digestive system test, is obscenely absurd. It’s like treating constipation by putting a cast on somebody’s arm.


Wednesday, December 30, 2020


by Ray Jason

It is called The Boiling Frog Syndrome. Many of you have heard of it, but for those who have not, allow me to describe it. If you drop a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will instantly jump out and save itself. But if you place a frog into a pot of lukewarm water and slowly increase the heat, the frog will remain blissfully docile … right up until the point when it becomes a … deceased frog.

This little fable is the perfect metaphor for how our controllers are slowly but relentlessly stealing our freedoms and increasing their power. Using the Wuhan Virus as their justification, they have tossed the entire global population into a massive cauldron. As the heat rises, we are warmed and stupefied until we end up dazed and helpless. Then they can easily impose their Iron Fist of Power.

Saturday, November 28, 2020


by Ray Jason


Klaus Schwab

      Let me state this simply and clearly: There is a disease out there ravaging our planet that is far more horrible than the Wuhan Virus.  Allow me to name it for you.  It is Schwabfluenza

      It is named after the self-appointed High Potentate, Klaus Schwab, who wishes to impose the worldview of himself, and his obscenely rich friends, on everyone but themselves. He knows what is best for us – the little people.

       Has he gained this expertise by mingling with us and experiencing our lives? No, he has discovered the need for his mastery over us, by attending conferences where the participants arrive in private jets. The organization that he founded and heads, which is called the World Economic Forum, is the driving force pushing for The Great Reset.

       This is the master plan that would totally transform the world. The elites, who are promoting it, use deceitful but benevolent sounding buzzwords to describe their vision. It will promote “sustainability” and “inclusiveness” and “equality.”

       But the true purpose of their scheme was best expressed by the great comedian and social critic George Carlin, who described it like this: “They want more for themselves and less for everyone else.” In fact, they actually want to impose a High-Tech Neo- Feudalism.


Wednesday, November 18, 2020



by Ray Jason


If you have not read Chapter One, you should probably scroll down and do so.


      A sailor, who I greatly admired, once complimented me by saying that I was “a bridge back to the Old Ways.” He meant that although I was proficient with modern electronic navigation, I still knew the forgotten skills of coastal piloting and celestial navigation. He was also impressed by my knack of predicting approaching weather conditions, by reading the winds and the waves - just like the old timers.

       There were a few reasons for why I mastered these techniques. Out here, where my only neighbors live in the Sea and the Sky, everything is so much more elemental. My belief is, that the screens and the satellites that seem so permanent to us nowadays, are actually quite fragile and vulnerable. So, if I learned those Old Ways, I could continue my ultra-free life as an ocean strider.

       I also took the time to learn them because it seems to me that we no longer value good, old-fashioned effort. You can’t learn these skills by punching up an app. You need dedication and determination. But the resultant joy of fulfillment is excellent, and well worth that mental exertion. Finding a tiny dot of land in an eternity of ocean, using just my sextant and the Sky Dome, is a sublime pleasure.

       Redundancy was my final reason for spending all those hours with the books and the instruments. One lightning strike, and those fancy electronic navigation devices can be vaporized with a gruesome sizzle. If there was an EMP strike or a deliberate sabotage of the GPS stations, these catastrophes would not keep me from wandering the Wide Waters.

Thursday, November 5, 2020






by Ray Jason

Madame Chairman:


On behalf of the Election Steering Table-Top Exercise committee, I commend you for taking the initiative in organizing and funding our endeavor. Your realization of how important the Event 201 gathering was in Oct 2019, in manipulating the global messaging concerning Covid-19, demonstrated extraordinary foresight. Your decision to apply similar influencing techniques to the upcoming election was brilliant.

We commenced our war game scenario on 1 April 2020 and are pleased to now share our conclusions with you. The casual name that we attached to our efforts was The Win Regardless Game Plan. Here are our recommendations arranged in simple bullet points:

Friday, October 30, 2020


 by Ray Jason



       Is it possible that I can no longer laugh? I mean this literally. How long has it been since my last laugh? Certainly it has been years, but I cannot remember exactly how many.

       What spurred this question was the little chuckle that I just experienced. It was prompted by the irony of my situation. Here I am, profoundly alone, striving to achieve one simple goal – to remain fully HUMAN.

       In order to achieve this, I sailed to a place where no one would dare follow. My quest to survive as a free … biological ... non-augmented ... human being has taken me to Bikini Atoll. It is the remote location where they tested the hydrogen bombs – the most powerful weapons ever designed to kill humans.

       Choosing this as my refuge, is a level of irony that even the most skilled cosmic trickster would admire. In order to stay human, I am secluded where weapons were tested that could erase humanity from Planet Earth.

       Besides choosing this location for its irony, I was also attracted by its safety. Since most people believe that the lagoon is still radioactive, I gambled that I would be left alone.

Wednesday, September 30, 2020



by Ray Jason


Ray in the NW Passage

Now that I am deep into my “middle years,” I feel that the lessons that I share with my unknown readers are genuinely time-tested. Here are two that I believe are universal and eternal:


Fear enslaves us. Courage liberates us.

These are not just abstract sentiments for me. I have lived them. As recently as three years ago, I successfully crewed on a sailboat expedition across the dangerous Northwest Passage. This was achieved on a small, fiberglass boat. It involved months in the frigid waters above the Arctic Circle, where one misstep could lead to death.

A couple of decades before that, I competed in the Single-handed Transpac Race from San Francisco to Hawaii. AVENTURA and I spent 20 days in the race and another 30 days on the solo return voyage. This was before GPS, and my radio could only reach out about 10 miles. For 50 days, I had to completely rely on myself.

Rewinding my life log another couple of decades, and this time I was in the U.S. Navy in Vietnam. And my tour of duty was not aboard just any naval vessel, she was an ammunition ship.

Monday, August 31, 2020


by Ray Jason

      Why do we still call them “elites?” Their conduct is certainly not worthy of such a complimentary description. After all, they are hideously addicted to controlling other people. I propose that we should start referring to them as Pathogs, because their “rule the world” attitude is undeniably pathological.
       Don’t you agree that the phrase “Bill Gates, is a shameless Pathog” has a nice ring to it? Furthermore, it resembles the word Balrog, which was one of the most powerful and evil creatures in The Lord of the Rings. Quite appropriate.
       My attempt to re-brand our self-annointed overlords as Pathogs is not a whimsical lark. It is a serious effort to resurrect a valuable tool of protest – SCORN. Hopefully, you have noticed that they have radically accelerated their plans for technocratic global domination. If we do not forcefully mock them and disobey them, their horrific “New Ab-Normal” agenda will become humanity’s actual reality. And this could happen with disastrous swiftness.

Tuesday, August 11, 2020


by Ray Jason

      Call me skeptical. Call me cynical. But I will still call myself … a realist. I learned to disbelieve from some genuine masters. Their counsel has survived for over a century.
      Walt Whitman’s advice was to:
      “Question much and obey little!”
      Mark Twain offered this enduring insight:
      “If you don’t read the newspapers you are uninformed. But if you do read the newspapers you are misinformed!”
      So when the Wuhan Virus first arrived, I paid extraordinary attention to it. An early oddity that activated my bull-dung detector, was “Event 201.” This was described as a table-top exercise on how best to react to a global pandemic.
       The timing, only a few months prior to the actual outbreak, seemed suspiciously coincidental to me. When I studied some of the video that was released from that event, I was shocked. My expectation was that a group of international health experts would be discussing the best methods for mitigating any possible fast-moving disease.
       But instead, they were all focused on controlling the “messaging” about such an outbreak. Specifically, they wanted “their people” to be in charge of the narrative. The catch-phrase that they kept repeating was “flooding the zone” with their approved information sources. They did not want any alternative viewpoints in circulation.
         The more I scrutinized this, the more I realized that these were not caring, compassionate scientists trying to determine the best way to minimize the health risks of a pandemic. No, these were cold-blooded spin doctors, seeking to utilize a pandemic for power and profit objectives.

Thursday, July 23, 2020


by Ray Jason

      It was time to visit The Shadow Sailor. He might have answers. If not, he would at least know if I was asking the right questions.
       My five months of researching this Wuhan Virus, was taking me down dark and disturbing paths. He would know if I was sailing off the edge.
       He is a man with no country. Although he has visited many, his passport shows few stamps. He enters and departs independently - and illegally. He is a master at finding hidden coves that the authorities rarely visit. But he emphasizes that although he lives in the Shadows, they are quite bright and they provide him health, freedom, happiness and meaning.
       I found him through a serendipitous accident. Whenever there is a nice sunset here in The Archipelago of Bliss, I celebrate it with with some fresh-squeezed orange juice, a pinch of lime and a spot of rum. Then I sit on deck watching the day depart and the evening descend.

Thursday, June 18, 2020


by Ray Jason

       When the frenzy and lunacy of Life pounds me too harshly, I sail off to a special place. If my little ship’s autopilot had words rather than numbers, I would be setting my course toward “simplicity” and “serenity.”
       That destination is a little cove where time may not stand still, but it definitely meanders. Everything here is natural, authentic and elemental. The three houses spaced along the shoreline were hand built by their owners. No contractors were used – instead there were brothers and uncles and friends.
       I needed to remind myself that there was a place untroubled by disease and riots. I sought equilibrium in an unbalanced world. My quest was to find peace amidst the chaos.
       And I found it. Here, in this timeless lagoon where the Jungle meets the Sea, the beautiful children still paddle by in their tiny, father-made cayucos. The women still sing hymns on the Sunday porches. The men still use simple hand tools, whose sounds echo across the water and speak the language of masculinity.

Friday, June 5, 2020


by Ray Jason

       For nearly a decade I have tried to convince friends and strangers that my Sea Gypsy Tribe concept is an excellent strategy for dealing with possible societal catastrophes. Unfortunately, my attempts have been mostly ignored.
       But now, with the global repercussions from the Wuhan Virus; and the riots and bedlam in the USA dominating our daily lives, it is a good time to renew my efforts. I also like the symbolic value of doing so in 2020, since 20/20 vision signifies clarity.
      One of the criticisms directed towards writers like myself, is that we point out problems, but never advance solutions. This is definitely untrue in my case. For years and years, I have written essays that offer a genuine and specific strategy for dealing with looming disasters.

Saturday, May 23, 2020


 by Ray Jason

      How strange and sad our world has become. We are so transfixed by the daily cacophony of death counts and fear and idiotic tyrants, that we have failed to notice something that is truly extraordinary. We have overlooked the fact that the specific individual men who have done the most to ruin our lives have no decency … they have no shame … and they have no remorse.
       In the West, there are three individuals whose pronouncements have been extremely significant in essentially placing billions of people under global house arrest. These supposed “experts” have had their edicts accepted as though they are messages from the gods. 
      But I will demonstrate that their recommendations for dealing with the Wuhan Virus, have been grotesquely wrong. And even more amazingly, their prior track records on infectious diseases, have also been incorrect and disastrous.
       In any sane world, these so-called “deciders” would have been fired long ago. Why have they been kept around? Perhaps it is because they are reliable, senior cogs in the planetary system that is Bill Gates Amalgamated.

Thursday, May 7, 2020


by Ray Jason

      Imagine that you want to rule the world. However, your desire is not motivated by the usual psychotic lust for power. Instead, you have convinced yourself that your megalomania is pure. You just want to “save the world.” You see your quest as Messianic. You believe that “the little people” are not visionary enough to comprehend what is best for them and for their planet.
       You, on the other hand, have a stunningly clear-sighted plan. The world needs to transition from a chaotic menagerie of countries and governments into a Single Global Entity. Borders should be abolished. Then leaders, who are elected by the whims of the uneducated masses, should be replaced by appointed, unaccountable “experts.”
       The sun would rise on a new world of orderliness. Unfortunately, small modifications would have to be made to the common man. They would need to surrender their freedom, their individuality and their ability to sculpt their own unique life.

Saturday, April 18, 2020


by Ray Jason

      Did you not notice that they originally told us that we must practice “social distancing” and we must “shelter in place” in order to “flatten the curve?” In other words, if we stay inside, all will be well. And then suddenly, the World Health Organization claims that they also must come into our homes to make sure that family members are not spreading it to each other. And while the police are in our house, perhaps they should remove that wackyconspiracy theorist,” who is wondering whether this is just a massive psychological operation.

       Did you not understand that putting our lives and futures into the hands of these misnamed “trusted authorities” was sheer lunacy? Look at their record on this pandemic thus far. They told us it could not be spread from human to human. They told us that China had handled it admirably, and thus it would likely remain a localized problem. They told us not to worry about attending St. Patrick’s Day parades or Chinese New Years’ Festivals. And then they locked us in our homes.

Wednesday, April 1, 2020


by Ray Jason

      In the spirit of April Fools’ Day, in which one can invert reality and view the world from an upside-down perspective, let’s ask a few questions about the topic that presently dominates our hearts and minds and doorknobs.

       1) Why has every single celebrity who “allegedly” contracted the Wuhan Virus, claimed that they “feel fine?” And why have none of them become severely ill or died?
      2) Who benefits? Or as a Roman Caesar might say, “Cui Bono?” This is the foundational question that should be asked when trying to solve a crime or unravel a mystery. Who is most likely to gain or profit from this “invisible enemy?” Here are just a few examples:

Wednesday, March 11, 2020


by Ray Jason

      For nearly a decade I have been using the internet in an attempt to persuade people that an ocean-going sailboat is the best defense against an increasingly fragile and volatile world. My contention has been that small groups of like-minded cruisers could band together to create Sea Gypsy Tribes.
       These sailors would prepare their vessels to respond to any type of cataclysmic event. Regardless of whether it might be an economic collapse or a grid-down emergency or any other crisis, a well-equipped, any-ocean sailboat is the best escape pod.
       Unfortunately, my Sea Gypsy Tribe idea did not catch on as I hoped it would. But because the sea gypsy life is such a sane approach to authentic and balanced living in this often lunatic and artificial world, I believe that people should consider it as a life path. Because of the down-sizing and true self-reliance that it requires, it allows one to not just survive - but to actually FLOURISH!
       With the spread of the Wuhan Virus around the globe, the defensive capabilities of the ocean sailing lifestyle again become prominent. (Note that I do not refer to the disease as COVID-19. There are two reasons for that. First, is my contrarian inclination to never accept, without careful scrutiny, any narrative that our leaders rulers foist upon us. And second, because of the quaint old nautical tradition of naming previously undiscovered reefs after the ships that pile up onto them. So why not give Wuhan that distinction, rather than saddling the plague with a name that only Hal, the computer from 2001 Space Odyssey, might invent.)

Wednesday, February 26, 2020


by Ray Jason

      One of of the exquisite joys of the sea gypsy life is the fact that it blends together two opposing worldviews. Even though most ocean vagabonds are incurable Romantics, they are also cautious Realists.  
      Surely, sailing to the South Seas requires the care-free bravado of the dreamer, but it also demands careful expertise. Out there on the Wide Waters, far from any help, one must have many skills including seamanship, navigation and boat repair.
       I contend that this advanced level of preparedness is also extremely valuable in responding to land-based issues. For example, if the current corona-virus does become a world-wide threat, I could literally complete this sentence, go on deck, lift my anchor and within 15 minutes be in the open Caribbean Sea far from any risk of exposure.

Tuesday, December 24, 2019


by Ray Jason

      You don’t know me, but we share something in common that is very special. That something is enormous and powerful and beautiful and elemental. That something is Mother Ocean.
       I too have spent long periods of time at sea. My longest ocean passage was 30 days, sailing my little 30 foot boat from Hawaii to San Francisco. In my case, I was also doing this alone.
       So you have experienced something of extraordinary magnificence. You have glided – or on difficult days - pounded – across the Wide Waters. Very few people have ever done this. To be hundreds of miles from the nearest humans, in the gigantic vastness of the Sea, can teach a person just how tiny we are compared to the mighty eco-systems of our watery planet. And looking up at the immense dome of stars, with the clarity of deep-ocean darkness, reinforces that lesson in humility even more.

Saturday, November 30, 2019


by Ray Jason

      How sweet was this? Looking at the tables full of sailors eating, chatting and smiling, I realized that I was one of those rarest of individuals – someone who had found his Tribe. In a world cursed with profound loneliness that is deliberately hidden behind the charade of cyber connectivity, I was blessed with genuine community.
       These were not Facebook friends, they were face-to-face friends. We were not communicating via screens and pixels. We were interacting with our voices, our glances, our laughter.

Wednesday, October 30, 2019


by Ray Jason

Birthday photo 2019
      What a magnificent birthday gift I received this morning. As I sat on deck with my clipboard and pen, sorting out my thoughts for this essay, the nearby jungle erupted with the unmistakable barks of howler monkeys.
       This bellowing symphony was made even more delightful by the fact that I could enjoy it despite my simple and spartan lifestyle. Had a Silicon Valley billionaire wished to experience the same primordial cacophony, not even the world’s best travel agent could guarantee it for him.
     The throaty, but almost comical, howls of the monkeys also reminded me of an important philosophical lesson. If one seeks to lead a contemplative life, it is important to peel away the fleeting, transient elements of the human drama and focus on the enduring, permanent aspects. 
      And what could be more elemental than creatures that have lived in the tree tops for who knows how many thousands of generations?

And so this inspired me to explore in this essay the most basic of issues – specifically – What is their Plan?

Monday, September 30, 2019


by Ray Jason

       My little ship’s bow was pointed towards one of my favorite destinations. It is a tropical lagoon enclosed by the steep, lush hills of a full-climax jungle. But more importantly, I was also sailing towards a “state of mind.” This idyllic bay would provide me riches that are rarely savored in the low-grade mayhem that we call The Modern World. The treasures I was seeking were Simplicity and Solitude.
       For twelve days and nights, I would bask in a hideaway so pristine that it had never been violated by a siren or a car alarm. There were very few humans and most of my immediate neighbors were creatures who lived in the Sea and the Sky. Occasionally, a smiling local Indio paddled past in a hand-carved dugout canoe. The tranquility was so visceral, that when a boat powered by an outboard motor passed by, it was as jarring as a chain saw at a yoga retreat.

Saturday, August 31, 2019


by Ray Jason

      It was a “chilling realization.” As my brain processed those two words, I chuckled quietly. More accurately, it might be described as a “frigid, terrifying realization.” That’s because I was in the Far North – the High Arctic - on-board a fragile, fiberglass sailing boat, trying to make it through the Northwest Passage. It took 86 days from Newfoundland to Nome, but we did persevere and prevail.
       The realization that had disturbed me was the possibility that I might not make it back. One misstep and I would slide into a watery grave. It was so cold that the Sea surrounding our boat was frequently turning from liquid into slush on its way to becoming solid ice.
       The question that I had asked was “What would happen to my essays if I did not make it back?” The stark clarity and elemental reality of the high latitudes, imposes a need for no-nonsense truth. And so, as I stood my midnight watch while the rest of the crew slept below, I answered honestly. “They would probably be dust in the wind.”

Wednesday, July 31, 2019


by Ray Jason

      The great American novelist, Jack London, used to host elaborate dinner gatherings at his ranch in northern California. He would invite a mix of notable people from the worlds of literature, politics and business. Sprinkled among these well-known “thought leaders,” as we would describe them today, would be a group of “regular folk” from the neighboring ranches and towns.
       After dinner he would rise at the head of the long table and announce that they were going to engage in a debate. Then he would choose a topic such as “Should alcohol be made illegal.” Finally, he would pause for dramatic effect, and exclaim in a ringing voice, “I’LL TAKE EITHER SIDE!”
       I first heard this inspirational anecdote from my debating coach in college. He, and the four students who comprised our team, were packed into a tired station wagon headed for a tournament somewhere in the Deep South.

Saturday, June 29, 2019


by Ray Jason

Haiku master BASHO
       Elemental ecstasy – yes, that’s the feeling. A bliss so simple yet powerful that it finds and fills even the deepest pockets of emptiness within me. Here, in this quiet lagoon that is so authentic, I am safely cocooned from a world that is so artificial.
       With my back leaning against my sloop’s mast, I survey a panorama that would delight a hunter/gatherer rowing by in his dug-out canoe hundreds of years ago. Off my port-side, a predator bird perches alertly on a high branch, and up past my starboard bow a dormant volcano peeks through the morning mist.
       I sailed here seeking escape and solace. Too much study of the woes of this world, and too much failure at lessening them with the medicine of words, had drained me. I needed the replenishment that can only be found in solitude and silence.

Saturday, June 22, 2019


by Ray Jason

As Bolton and Pompeo - who are a human Axis of Psychosis -  attempt to force the U.S. into a war with Iran, it seems like a good time to re-post my most heart-felt anti-war essay.  This was first published in 2013 just as Obama was about to lob Cruise Missiles into Syria.  Fortunately, international opinion and lack of support from England was sufficient pressure to restrain him.

Of my 120 essays, this was the one that received the most appreciation and support from my readers.  I hope it touches you.

Saturday, May 25, 2019


by Ray Jason

      Recently, when sorting through some mementos, I encountered three short quotations that had helped launch the Sea Gypsy decades of my life. It was startling to discover how much power and enchantment they still possessed. Allow me to share them with you.

“...whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul … I account it high time to get myself to sea as soon as I can.”

Herman Melville

“I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by.”

John Masefield

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t sit still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.”

Robert Service

       That final quotation is particularly important to the subject of this essay. When I first began to wander the Wide Waters, it was not because I felt forced to do so. It was because I chose to do so.
       But in today’s society, there is a large segment of the population that is scorned with such venom, that I believe that their best strategy is to escape from the abuse that is heaped upon them in the terrestrial world. I urge them to revitalize their lives with freedom, substance and adventure by heading out to Sea.
       Who am I referring to? You might have already correctly guessed. It is young, white, straight males. I am not recommending that they join a navy or a merchant marine, but that they sail away from the growing and darkening madness in their own little freedom ship. It is much easier and cheaper than you might think and I’ll explain all of that later in this essay.

Tuesday, April 23, 2019


by Ray Jason

How I will always think of her.
      Long ago and far to the North, a stranger gave me a little gift. It was a modest offering, but it proved quite meaningful at a crossroads moment in my life. Having recently returned from Vietnam, and seeking a way to make a living that would not contribute to the U.S. War Machine, I was doing a little juggling act on the streets of San Francisco.
      This was in 1971 when the American revival in street performing was just beginning. Scattered about the sidewalks, one could find mimes and singers and magicians. But there were no jugglers. I had learned basic juggling at a summer camp in my early teens, and decided to put together a little show to sustain me while I “got my head back together.” My assumption was that this would require a few months, and then I would settle into some sort of real job.

Sunday, March 24, 2019


by Ray Jason

When the world weighs heavily upon me, I find comfort in a modest little cafe that overlooks an even more modest little park, here in the Archipelago of Bliss. Many people would probably describe it as a run-down, dilapidated park. But I love it because it is a refuge from the frenzy and artificiality of El Norte.
       It is full of authentic, ordinary people chatting with friends while their kids play on the swings and sliding boards. They are keeping an eye on their children, but they are not hovering over them like Smother-copters.
       Scattered on the perimeter are benches where Indios from the out islands sell produce that they grow on their little homesteads. The police do not move them along and code enforcement does not ask for their licenses. These officials realize that non-First World folks are smart enough to know how to clean their own vegetables, and that they don’t need the government to sanitize them.
      Every once in a while someone brings a box of baby chickens to sell. The Indio kids are ecstatic 

Sunday, February 24, 2019


by Ray Jason

Before I found my way to the Wide Waters, I spent a lot of time on the Asphalt Seas. I hitch-hiked tens of thousands of miles around the U.S. during my college years. The catalyst for this was my desire to feast on the visual cornucopia of the continent. And I also hoped to discover the special American spirit of nobility and brotherhood that Walt Whitman and Woody Guthrie celebrated through poetry and song.
       I wore a rugged, brown, naval aviator’s jacket from a surplus store and carried a small, tough suitcase that I adorned with decals from my travels. This was well before the back-pack era and the relative ease of thumbing rides with hippies in VW vans.
       One other item that also traveled with me was an envelope filled with my favorite quotations. When waiting for a ride in some inhospitable spot, I would pass the time finding comfort in the wit and wisdom of these insights and observations.

Tuesday, January 29, 2019


by Ray Jason

Something in the Sea awoke me. I wondered if the sound had only been from a dream, so I listened intently in the darkness. There it was again. It was near, but unrecognizable. I grabbed my flashlight and pepper spray and quietly slipped on deck to investigate. Nothing appeared unusual, but then I heard the sound again. It was up near the bow.
       The moon was half full, so I didn’t use the flashlight as I crept forward, because I know every contour of my boat like a sculptor knows clay. As I got close to the bow, I was startled by a sudden squawk and then the flapping of wings as a black-crowned night heron flew swiftly away. It had been fishing from my anchor chain.
       I chuckled and apologized to the fleeing bird, and then I went below to make some tea. There were still a couple of hours before dawn, but the unexpected encounter had jolted me awake. It seemed like an excellent time to seek some clarity on a topic that had been fermenting within me for a while.
       Recently, a young reader had written to me in muted desperation. He confessed that his life seemed like an indecipherable jumble of thoughts, emotions and insecurities. He said that he admired the way that I could discuss complex topics in such a clear and organized fashion. He was envious of how confident and free from doubt my life seemed to be.
       And so, in this peaceful, isolated cove I settled in with a cup of tea, my clipboard and its tiny light, to reassure that unknown reader that I too am often assaulted by a “jumble of thoughts, emotions and insecurities.”