I was born in Nebraska, so it’s probably strange that I’ve always been drawn to water. Well, maybe not small water, like lakes—even though some of my best childhood memories were fishing with my dad—but big water, like oceans and gulfs and bays.
My favorite book, Moby Dick, is about the ocean as much as it’s about anything else. I loved The Beach Boys as a kid. Remember that song, “Brandy” by Looking Glass? I’ll bet I could sing it without music.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had people ask me if I’m a sailor because of all the nautical phrases and metaphors that creep into my writing.
I have no explanation. It’s just something that’s in my DNA.
All that said, I’m predictably comfortable when I can hear waves. I sleep like an honest man. I don’t care what the weather is like. My good friend Ron Henman will tell you that when I hear waves, I fall asleep, even when it’s not entirely appropriate.
I’m overlooking the Sea of Cortez in San Felipe, Baja California, Mexico, as I write this. “Paradise City” by Guns & Roses is playing on the headphones. The sun has set behind me, but the sky above me and across the horizon is a pastel pink fading into lavender clouds. There is a ship right on the horizon.
A local entrepreneur, Victor, took me on a tour of the town in his dune buggy this morning. San Felipe is a puzzle. Lots of what looks like poverty, with abandoned homes and buildings sprinkled throughout the town. But there are also signs of investment coming into town, large hotels being built near the beach for the tourist dollar.
I’m only here until about February 20, but I could see me returning in a few years when this expedition is complete.