I dedicate this volume to God, who made women possible.

Love should be easy. Follow your heart.

Bernadette’s three maxims for great love making: (the three S’s for success) Soft, Slow and Sweet.

Harpster: You can do anything to a girl except for 2 things:
1) B_____ h____.
2) M_____ a f_____ o__ h_____.

The only two things you can rely on in a woman:
1) C_______.
2) M_______ i______.

The two C’s: Be Casual and Creative.

I have made love to women that were natives of the following lands:

1) USA – etc.
2) Italy - Giovanna Ghidini
3) France – Bernadette Morales
4) Germany – Connie Dollner
5) Peru – Jubiana Curich
6) Japan – Mitsue Jimbo, Cazuko K.
7) Canada – Lynn Yoakley

Swedish – I love you (informal) Jag gillar dig.
I love you (formal) Jag alskar dig.

“A woman is a knife with three blades – one is what she says, another what she thinks, and another what she does.” – Sergio (from Argentina) told me this one.)

March 8th, 1982
I called Francesca tonight – not there.

March 11th, 1982
From the looks of these pages, my love life is not happening right now. Note: Kris called me and wants to go out with me. I think I’ll just fuck her and show her what’s good for her, only, I don’t want her coming to my house or anything (how callous of me) Note: Meg can get fucked.

March 17th, 1982
I feel like I’m a bit rusty or something! Like today, I had a few opportunities to move on cute girls and I didn’t. I realize I should establish an overall strategy for this area of my life, but until I do I want to make some short-term goals.
Goal: To have, by Jun 1st, 1982, 4, 7’s or above, as friends, whom I can talk to, call up and go out with, have a good time. Potentials are: Meg, Francesca, Pam and the girl in my finance class. I must plant the seeds of a relationship. My strategy will be to be very friendly, come on like a friend, and, if it will, let it develop into something more serious. I have decided on one thing that is, quality. I only want to date 7’s or above. My goal also is to get them coming to me! In other words try to see if I can arrange it so that they are coming over to pick me up, or coming over to visit at my house.

March 23rd, 1982
I can’t seem to get motivated in this area! I love women and want them but… maybe I’m too busy! Maybe loving Norma detracts from other girl’s appeal!
I went out with Kris Peterson last night. She was sort of a drag! (But I’ll send her a tape anyway.) I kind of told her how it was about how she didn’t have much to offer. She thought “Don’t you think you and I have something between us?” I, on the other hand, couldn’t agree less. She informed me she was a virgin, and how, of course, she didn’t want to do it (sex.) I probably could get in her pants but it would be effort and I want to spend my time pursing the best (or better anyway)(7 or above).
I called Meg last night and arranged to drop her a tape, which I did today. I gave it to her in the Student Union and there she stood in a long coat and glasses on a hot day. I said, “You look like a secretary,” whereupon she took off her glasses. She didn’t seem to want to talk and she asked, “When am I going to return it to you.” I said, “I’ll call you. Keep the tape. Use it to record your own stuff, if you’d like.” She left after 40 seconds I swear! I can’t figure that girl out at all. It’s like she’s very suspicious of me. Last night she said, “Was that you who called the other night?” I said, “Yes.” Her: “Well, Eric (boyfriend) was very suspicious.” Me: “Well, he shouldn’t have been. I thought you were both asleep so I said I’d call back.” I figured ‘Meg likes’ me enough now (sarcastic without this). She said, “I like you.” I wish I could get to know Meg. She seems to fucking distant. It would be great if my music brought her out of it.
(What is it I want from Love? Sex with beautiful women every day of my life – often and varied partners. How can I achieve this goal: 1) most efficiently 2) most practically in view of channels I could take to get there (e.g., being a rockstar!)
Also, I called Frannie last night. I really like that girl. When I said, “Do you think I’ll ever get to see you again?” She said, “I hope so.” She sounded good and positive though I felt I caught her a little off guard. I am going to give her another tape – it’s at least something.
(Should I orient myself to one-night stands or should I pursue the goals slowly and persistently (as I am trying to do with Frannie and Meg?).
Mono says she’ll be coming here probably sometime this year.
I feel like calling Lynn and Toniça but I fear that they are uninterested in me.
Well, I must admit to myself that I haven’t been trying very hard. Again, maybe I should simply concentrate on being their friends.

I should probably be more on the move. There was a real cute girl in the computer lab last Wednesday that I think liked me. I should have made a more overt effort for. We were talking and stuff.
The basic problem is that 1) I don’t know what I want specifically 2) My mind is on school, and to a lesser extent ATS (work).
However, is that entirely true? After all, if Frannie had turned on to me, I would gladly be spending more time with her.
Perhaps I do not try hard enough – to love them, to amuse them, to charm them. I just don’t feel like being charming.
This is interesting: 2 am getting to the meat of the matter. (Is my dick too small? Norma’s funny, she’s always telling me how enormous it is, but then, she’s a liar!) If I felt more sexually adequate perhaps I would be bolder. That is to say, Bold enough to be Suave.
Well, anyway, I should think about this. I am at such a sexual low point (from the stand point of meeting and loving new girls and also having intensely enjoyable sexual experiences.) I almost feel like I am getting old – but I pray to God I am not already losing my sexual powers. (I hesitate to say, “What little I have/had,” which indicates I’ve got a little bit of fight left in me.)
Confidence is esoteric, is it not? (Maybe it is based on past performance.)
1) I need an ego boost. Ok, food for thought (writing time 32 minutes).

March 25th, 1982
I feel like asking Frannie out. Sometimes, lately, I feel like I will die if I don’t lay a beautiful girl soon. Norma is wonderful, but our sex life has gotten to be nil, so I must seek elsewhere. What to do to motivate myself? Or is it just luck? Partly?

March 26th, 1982
I called Frannie tonight but she wasn’t home. I left a message I called. I really could easily love her. In fact, I do love her.
Diary, journal, (what is this?), I want a girl with big tits and a luscious body loving me all over.
Anyway, I have hope for Frannie. I don’t really know why, but I do.
I should call Pam Campagna, but I don’t feel ready – i.e., totally utterly bitchin’! I should call her. Well, maybe it’s not because I’m not ready, but rather, because I don’t feel like it. I think my lack of motivation for pursing these girls I want so much, is because I am a romantic and I see a long, lingering love affair in each girl I desire. Maybe I should change and just love them and leave them. I should consider what I really want.
Norma… well, I love her, but… maybe we both need a change.
It seems I am going in circles! Move forward!

March 29th, 1982
I feel too busy to spend a lot of time with girls. When I get out of school I will find time. I hope my sex drive keeps up til I’m 80!!!

March 30th, 1982
At any rate, even though this sounds contradictory to the above - starting Tuesday after school until the following Tuesday I am going on a blitzkrieg in which I will contact potential lovers and seek out bran new ones.

April 2nd, 1982
This week (running Tuesday 10 pm – Tuesday 9:59 pm) is supposed to by my blitzkrieg – i.e. the week to go all out for girls but I haven’t done anything yet! I tried calling Meg and Francesca, but couldn’t get through. I don’t have enough time to do everything I need to, or want to – or is it just an excuse, or is it because Fate isn’t smiling on me in the Love department.

April 5th, 1982
I called Pam Campagna tonight – she was very nice. I feel much better about myself!

April 8th, 1982
I talked with Frannie tonight! She said she loved my tape!! She said she might be moving out of her house – that she is presently grounded, etc. I love her I swear. I think she feels for me too, I really do. She loved my tape. I told her about the possible trip to the South Pacific. I told her about Norma and how we might break up. I told her she could come live with me. I told her about Norma’s apartment for $170. She said (I asked) that she would like to see me too, except for that she’s grounded. I’m excited. I need to believe we’ll live together. I’ve got to believe that. I’m ecstatic that she liked my tape.

April 11th, 1982
Plan A – wait until I get out of school and then devote “a lot” of time pursuing beautiful women. Meanwhile, see if you can get Frannie to live with you.

April 13th, 1982
I talked to Frannie last night. (The last two nights actually). I really feel good about her.

April 23rd, 1982
Tomorrow night I am going out with $30 by myself to look for women. I am going to be out for 7 hours – from 6 to 1 tentatively. Goal: to make love to two women. My goal in general is: to make love to 100 new women (at least!) in the next 5 years.

Philosophy of Love
With girls, you’ve got to be completely confident. Admiration comes to those who believe in themselves.
The ways to turn girls on are the same ways to turn them off (theirs-yours) smell, sight, touch, hearing, taste and feeling.

Theory: “Confidence” waves (or lack there of) travel over air – an intangible perceived by girls. i.e., they can tell what your attitude is and judge their actions accordingly.
The more you attempt to meet women, the easier it gets, as with most things in life.
I find that a lot of times. I’ve got to kind of give girls a little push in the right direction. A lot of times, they will resist a bit, but if you go for what you want, they are game. Don’t beg for rejection.

Desires
I want to be such a good lover in bed that a woman clamors to re-do what we’ve done.
I want to be so adept at dealing with women that they are dying to go to bed with me and they are eager and calling me.

Self-Discovery
(How “mod” of me. Pardon me for vanity)
Actually, I’m just looking for a sophisticated word for personal hygiene hints and ways to increase my attractiveness.

1. Vidal Sasson – Protein Pac Treatment for damaged hair – really makes a difference in look of my hair – used along with Shampoo and finishing rinse.
2. Lancome – cream – smells – fantastic. I think I should use cream on my face. I think my skin doesn’t have the glow it should.

Tonight, I met Violet from Paris. She’s married and has 2 girls, 6 & 2. She awesomized me and I thought I’d never see her again – but long after she left I left and when I tried this guitarist named Jay asked me to give him a lift and on the way out he asked me if I was keyboardist. The net result is I know one of the gang at that party I went to off the streets. I love Violet, I felt like she could feel it (too.)

Blitzkriegs
March 31st, 1982 10 pm
#1 – April 6 – 10 pm called Pam Campagna – tired calling Meg (not home); tried calling Francesca (not home) dropped off tape at Frannie’s.

The quiet wonders of the world sit in their silent perches looking down on the rabble of he world.

Note: What my grandma said is significant – if I don’t smile I won’t attract anyone. If I do smile, I will make friends (That’s, in essence, what she said).
Lord, I hope I see Violet again. What a sexy girl! I asked her what “Ya pal du mal a se farie du bien.” Meant and she knew. I think it turned her on.

I walked up to Violet and put my nose against her ear when her escort had turned away and said, “Can I call on you?” and she said, “Well… uh… that’s my husband.” “A thousand pardons!” “That’s ok. You had no way of knowing.” – I walked back and said, “He’s a very lucky man!” “I’m not unlucky myself!” I walked back out into the hall. She came out and talked to me. Then she took me into an adjacent room and we sat down and talked. I was going to kiss her but another couple walked in and I didn’t want to blow it for her if they knew her. I indirectly concluded later that they didn’t know one another and I was thinking of kissing her anyway but moments later her husband called for her and they left.

Things I am Learning:
5/82 – One of the major misconceptions I have caused myself to believe is that lovemaking and the pursuit of it takes a lot of time. I believe I have felt this way because of the habits I have developed in the area of Love. I would describe my habits as being focused on a great consumption of time to accomplish the wooing and enjoyment of girls.
Strikeout #1 and making love to Norma today both made me realize that it doesn’t have to be terribly time consuming. Norma and I made love, with foreplay, etc. and the episode took, all totaled, perhaps 40 minutes. That is nice enough to enjoy, but not so long that you can’t continue a busy schedule.
Asking out that girl (Strikeout #1) took about 1 minute of total thought and energy and about 15 seconds of physical effort. The point is that here is no reason not to “hit” on every nice looking girl I desire. After all, nothing is to be lost – only gained. I don’t have to make it elaborate. If she’s interested, she’ll go. If not, she won’t.
The important thing is, that as I get more practice, I will become more adept and imaginative in my approach – and hopefully, more successful.
I am also thinking about trying to hit on 1) girls that I ordinarily wouldn’t and 2) girls that I’m not attracted to but that I think are attracted to me – after all, I like sex with all girls.

May 5th, 1982
(5/0) 1. I asked waitress a Teyvis “Could I call you sometime.” She slowed, put her hands up and said, “No… no… no…” She was surprised. She didn’t say no emphatically. I think because it was so out of the blue, she had a “Jungle reaction.” – i.e., the safest response. Rating: 7.1 – pretty. Height: 5’9 ½” Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Caucasian.
I didn’t really lead up to it. I just stopped in for lunch for a 2nd time. The first time I was with Norma. I had gotten laid by Norma about 1 hour before I went to lunch today.

May 6th, 1982
(5/0) 2. I was at an A & W, looking out the window, this girl looked real cute running across the street. I thought, “Oh well, even if she was coming outwards me instead of way, I probably wouldn’t do anything about it. Then about 4 or 5 minutes later she came running back to the parking lot. She got in a car and sat there. I thought about it for a while, and then got up and walked outside and up to her car window. I knocked. When she rolled it down I said, “Well I’ve never done this before, but you looked so pretty running across the street that I thought I would be totally bold and ask you if I could give you a call and maybe get to know you.” She seemed shocked and replied, “Uh well, I’ve got a boyfriend.” I said, “Oh, well I guess that means ‘no.” She said: “I’m sorry.” I said: “Well, I hope that you took it as a complement.” She said: “I did!”

May 7th, 1982
(5/0) 3. I was at Le Disc to see Trix – a band. There was this girl who was a little fat but oh, so sexy – a short shirt, big tits, skinny legs, I saw her look at me. I went down to where the band was playing and sat down in the dark. After a while, she came over and sat down right below me and leaned back on my leg, seemingly very much on purpose. I almost just reached out to touch her. I moved my leg into her body meaning to let her know I was interested, but upon that note she got up and walked over to stand with some guy. Soon they were kissing. I was kicking myself for not having said something to her!
Later her, I guess, boyfriend came over. He didn’t seem to mind her kissing this other guy. Later he was making out with her. The whole time Trix was playing, she was moving to the music and I was dying I wanted her so bad! Finally, when her two suitors left for a while I went up to her and said in her ear: “Do you want to know the truth?” She nodded, yes, I said: “Are you sure you want to know the truth?” And she nodded even more enthusiastically. I said: “I wish I was sucking on your pussy.” She leaned back and stuck out her tongue sort of seductively. She handed me her empty glass and said “Ouzo and water” – but I had to ask her 4 times to understand it (because the music was loud) and she seemed perturbed. I figured what the hell - I went and bought the drink and when I returned so had her boyfriend. When the band was through I went up to talk to Jim, the guitarist. When I got off the stage, she and her boyfriend had left. I noticed shortly after that the first guy she had been flirting with seemed like he was looking for them, surprised they had left.

May 12th, 1982
#4 – There was really short girl working at the Rapid Copy Center at school. We had joked around a little – just smiled and a few comments while she waited on me. I had to come back later and then as I left the Library a 2nd time I was thinking how I should have asked her for her phone number. I realized I had to go back to staple my papers and as I walked back I determined to go for it. I went back to Rapid Copy on a pretense and after she helped me again I called over to get her attention, I said, “If you give me your phone number, I’ll give you a call!” (An old Harpster line that seemed to have the magic ring). She said, “Just call here” and I stared at her blankly and she said, “Oh, ok.” She rushed over to a pen and paper and scratched out her phone number 584-9474 and name, Dancia.
I did it on a lark, not even intending to call. (I called her after school and asked her out and she said she might come. I don’t know what will happen.
Medium Length brown hair, fairly nice ass. I would love to fuck her but… she tells me she’s a Christian!

May 19th, 1982
Juli, is my BICS 816, was crying. She looked so sad! (on the way to class I had passed her and she had said hello first. It made me notice her.) At break I went outside and saw her. I sort of stopped her and asked her what was wrong and she explained (sort of) how she was upset and overworked. I said, “If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call!” and she immediately replied “346-4037.”
I got a letter from Mono and it sounds as if she is coming to visit me in August and it sounds as if she is in love with me.
Things seem to be getting better with Norma, whom I never write about, but it is a very interesting and curious story in itself (our relationship.)
I am starting, as of a few nights ago, to visualize beautiful women making love to me and stripping off their clothes before I sleep as I’m laying in bed.

June 3rd, 1982
On graduation, Mike and I went together; a girl named Linda and a guy named Kevin sat next to us. Linda and I sat next to each other. I was gazing in her eyes. She has a beautiful mouth. When we said goodbye, we all shook hands. I wanted to kiss her. I was thinking of kissing her hand; Mike saw it in my eyes and said, “Don’t kiss her hand, it’s uncouth,” out loud as a joke. She touched my arm, and kissed me. She kissed neither Mike nor her friend. We were discussing where we could split some champagne, in the aftermath of the ceremony, when Linda said, “Well, I guess I’ll give you my phone number.” She wrote her name, phone number, and address in my diploma cover on the cover letter. I gave her mine on her diploma cover. She mentioned me coming up to taste wine where she lives in Napa Valley. I mentioned that I might be going abalone diving this weekend, which would route me north.
On Tuesday I called her, but her roommate took a message. She said she’d be sure Linda got the message.
Wed: When I got home from work and shopping, I noticed that Linda had called. I called her and she said she had gotten home late the night before, and as a result had waited to call til the next day (Wed.). We chatted and made plans for the weekend: to go together from Napa in her van and go to Redottie’s Ranch on Saturday.
I am to go about driving and her to keep a lookout. We’re planning on an abalone dinner outdoors. She suggested we stay overnight and she can sleep in her camper (van) and I can sleep in the tent. It should be fun.

The last week, during graduation time, Mike Taylor and I went out twice to meet women. We talked to a lot of girls. To sum up briefly, we would go up to some girls and start talking; if they didn’t turn on, we would leave and go on to the next couple. I like the approach, simply because you don’t waste time talking to girls who are uninterested and also because you circulate and expose yourself to many girls.
The upshot of our carousing was I got 2 phone numbers, both of which (Debra and Nancy) were so-so. I haven’t planned it out yet.
On Monday, I woke up at Norma’s. I planned to get her in bed. First, I asked her to give me a towel (she was on her period) because “I spilled some coffee.” She was watching TV and brought me a towel. When her show was through, she came to see the spot I “made.” When she tried to pull the towel, I tried to cover her. She pulled hard and laughed. I grabbed her, flung her to bed, and made love with her. Later, I took her out to lunch.
We took a cruise in Aquatic Park, where a band was playing and a crowd lingered perhaps 1000 people. We looked at some art and I bought some photographs by an excellent photographer. We went back to her place and I did it (made love) to her again (with her or to her? – with her!) She melted as I came. She was a little sore (From the 1st time) and she wanted me to come. I said, “Do you want me to?” and she shook her head yes. I repeated and she repeated her reply as I grabbed her and was pumping her very passionately. As she shook her head, ‘Yes’ I felt my penis explode inside her vagina, suddenly relaxed some point in my upper left testicle which had seemed tight or kinked for sometime. As I lay there after orgasm, I felt it relax and finally feel normal. As I came, Norma’s lips lost all rigidity and she melted in my embrace and kissed me passionately.
I went to sleep after some time and I awoke in the evening. I read Mark Twain for a while and then Norma came in and said, “Your bath is ready.” I asked, “Is it in the room of the ‘Thousand Summers’ or in the room of the ‘Towering Waterfalls?’” I got up and she got into the bathtub with me. We washed each other off.

June 7th, 1982
I have just come back from the most wonderful weekend of my life. Linda and I spent it together and never can I remember such concentrated, pure, simple pleasure and excitement.

June 9th, 1982
I had such a great time with Linda last weekend we went to Redottie’s Ranch on the coast above Jenner, leaving from her house in Napa. I went skin diving for abalone on Saturday afternoon and afterwards, I took a walk among the windy hills and beach. We drove down to the campgrounds and found a suitable campsite. There, we made a fire, cooked and cleaned the abalone. We ate dinner and then took a walk along the road and a trail, which led to a cliff, perched above the ocean in the moonlight. When we got back to the campsite we sat by the fire and after some time we were touching and kissing. She asked if I snored, and then said I could sleep in her van with her as long as I didn’t try to make her because she “didn’t bring” her diaphragm. We got into the bed in the back of her camper and spent the night together. In the morning, we kissed and touched; I kissed her vagina.
After we got up (after 11 am), I went skin diving again for more abalone, and, again caught my limit. We took a leisurely dive along the coast to bodega Bay, and, from there, went inland to Petaluma and then to Napa. When we got back to her house, we took a very long bath together in her old-fashioned bathtub – one of those stand up kind. We were (I was very nearly asleep in the tub.) I believe we were in the tub for 1 hour and 20 minutes!
Then we got out and rousted ourselves off the couch, which we had moved to directly after the bath, to prepare another abalone dinner. It took a long time to prepare and we didn’t eat until 10 pm.
We returned to the couch and fell asleep straightaway. The next thing I knew, then her roommate (housemate), Molly, came in and Linda was already up. Linda helped pull out the double bed from the couch. She said she had to get a good nights sleep – so she informed me she was going to sleep in the van – and she did. I almost felt like leaving. It had been a perfect day, absolutely, yet I was so surprised she didn’t want to sleep with me. I decided I’d wait til morning.
Next morning, I lay in the bed wondering what to do. I concluded that I should not act too eager to make it with her. I lay there playing possum until Molly had gone off to work, and then I went in the kitchen and things were fine. She and I laid down on the double bed; I played it cool. She said that I didn’t have to worry about: (and her she listed all the things one can get from having sex.) My reply was, “Well, I guess that takes care of that!” (Rules sex out.) We laid there for a while and then she finally said, “Well, let’s make up our minds. Let’s make a decision!” To which I replied, “Let’s get naked!”
We went into her bedroom and got naked and laid there. She got out her diaphragm kit. We touched each other’s genitals, and she touched her own too. She finally rushed into the bathroom, washed quickly and came in and put her diaphragm in. I got on top of her and put my penis inside of her. Now, Linda is 5’4” but her vagina seemed very tight! I was starting to pump and she said, “Go more slowly I moved more slowly, but it felt so good I was ready to come very shortly there after! I tried to stop it but I couldn’t help it cause it felt so good. I came! Ah!
She masturbated while I laid next to her kind of keeping my penis in the vicinity. She came many times.
Afterwards she said, “I thought it was kinda of spiritual, didn’t you?” And I had to agree because it was true. The first really sensual kiss she had given me was when we first laid down to make love. It was so great!
There is something special there between us, which makes laying together great. There is something very wonderful. I was so happy that we made love. I hope that we can do it (often) in the future.
It really makes a difference to make love with someone that you really care about. With Linda, I feel something very special. I feel so drawn to her, and I find it somewhat inexplicable. I find her very beautiful, though I don’t know if others would, in that I can’t say she fits into the fashion-magazine definition of beauty. I get this feeling like she’s got some for of spell over me. I feel sort of mesmerized by her. Sort of over whelmed.
When we’re together, a lot of times we just look at each other with a smile – just a look. But I know that I am totally mesmerized by that look. I love to just be with her.

June 11th, 1982
Last night Norma and I made the most incredible love! I don’t even believe it. I actually asked her to pinch me when it was all over I was so amazed.
She didn’t want to make love, but I persisted and finally she agreed. I told her it would be great. She said she didn’t know why she didn’t feel like it anymore, but, when asked, said she wished she did want to. She said she felt inhibited, so I asked what we could do to relieve inhibitions and she said, “Brandy.” I got the bottle and brought it to bed. She was drinking it like water and, meanwhile, I was with my penis under her hips wetting her vagina with my fingers. She kept stalling and smoking cigarettes (we were both a bit stoned) and asking for more brandy.
Finally, after maybe 20 minutes, I said that was enough and I got on top of her. She was saying how it was gonna hurt and she was resisting somewhat. But, once I got it in and it was ok, the whole scene changed. She became the best lover I ever had in my life. It felt so good when I got it in, that the words “I love you so much” gushed out of me and we went into a lovemaking trance for 20, maybe more, minutes.
It is hard to describe, but I will try.
1) Our kisses were incredibly sensuous. Her pursed lips became velvet and succulent and idling. It was so passionate.
2) I moved slowly, remembering what Linda (and Bernadette) told me. When I touched her ass it felt firm and excellent. She ran her hands on my ass and back, feeling me with what felt like wondrous passion. Her legs were wrapped around me.
3) Her hair was soft and smelled fantastic. I grasped at tumbles of it and held her hair against her head.
4) The feeling was one of unmitigated passion. There was no doubt. There was pure feeling, passion and love. It was affectionate and passionate. It flowed smoothly. I savored every second of it.

My comment is simple I have never before experienced such perfect lovemaking. On a scale of 1 to 10 I’d rate it a 15.
When it was all over, she asked me. “What happened.” I said, “I took a magic pill.” Unforgettable, this experience stands as a benchmark by which all others are measured.
I wasn’t thinking about, for example, how beautiful she was or anything like that. I wasn’t fantasizing, the experience itself was a fantasy. I really felt everything, which is why it was so great, and it was real, so real, which was why it was so unusual. Like I said, no doubt – it was so natural, so flowing. It was what love would be, or what it was meant to be. JS.

June 22nd, 1982
Tonight I went out with Amanda Atwood. She is beautiful – a 9.
I met her at Sears Monday when I refunded a gift my Dad bought for my going away. I asked her if I could invite her to a party. I asked her if maybe we shouldn’t get to know each other before the party. She said she was busy til Friday. I called her back and said that I didn’t want to make it Sunday that I wanted to see her Friday. I told her to break her plans.
I picked her up and we drove to Burlingame and then to S.F. We bought some Vodka and drove back down to Black Mountain Road. When I first tired to kiss her she backed off.
I enjoyed her nice firm large tits, her blonde hair, her beautiful face and touching her body – she pretty much tried to keep my hands away from her crotch, but…
Drove back to up by Dad’s house (where she also lives) – parked in secluded area.
Kissed her, got hot, pushed up against her. Her kiss was far out.
Fuck, I was in heaven. We sort of went to sleep, I put my hand on her breasts and my head on her lap.
I took her home at 3:30 am.

July 4th, 1982
I sent a letter to Moño last week, which said I would be home for her call on July 29 from 7-9 pm and on August 5 from 7-9 pm.

July 20th, 1982
(12:20 pm)
This is the quote:
– After hours of deliberation, days, thinking of Delana — thinking, evaluating, worrying, wondering, pining, discussing — thinking that she may not like me, etc. I have come to the conclusion that (after speaking with Clymer) maybe she loves me but she doesn’t know how to handle it. I have decided that from here on, I am going to approach the situation as if she does and see how things go. I’m going to believe it — that she loves me.”

I might mention that even if she did have a love for me that I could not uncover, it did me no good—thus, I draw this tentative conclusion: There is little reason to pursue a girl that makes one feel uneasy—that makes it outwardly clear that she isn’t interested. Although you may even eventually get her to come around, will it, on average, be worth it? Probably not. For all the time you may spend, you could be out having fun—and probably make out better in the long-run.

Other cryptic statements made on the same day:
“Just go for it, man, there’s the door: Cross it.”
“Just SEE that she likes you.”
“Should you try to keep a girl off balance??”
“Grab it. Grab it. Go for it. Take it.”

Cher 285-8804
“I got to start meeting more women.”

Lines That Work
1. “If you give me your phone number, I’ll give you a call.” (re: Harpster, Jack)
2. Cappa says he Never Second Guesses a Woman. (For example, try to figure out why she’s acting the way she is beyond the obvious – or what does he mean by that?)
3. (re: Harpster) You can do anything to a girl except for two things: i) B____ H____ or ii) M_____ a F____ o___ H____
4. (re: Harpster) The only two things you can rely on in a woman: i) C_____ ii) M______ I______.
5. (re: Harpster) The two C’s of success with women: be C______ and C_______.
6. Bernadette’s 3-S’s for success in lovemaking. Soft, slow and sweet.
7. (re: Angelo – Clymer’s Roommate) Make eyes – use eye contact to initiate (and I suppose to express.)
8. (re: Angelo) Be down to earth – be natural – be yourself.
9. (re: Angelo) Don’t be (act) too eager (to get in her pants, whatever).
10. Alcohol relieves inhibitions.
11. Vitamin E oil is good on the genitalia.
12. I have come to the conclusion, ridicule me as you will, that masturbation is conducive to good sex. One should not hesitate to masturbate if one doesn’t have a partner handy. Also, while lovemaking, touching your own genitals is acceptable.
13. Sex is the ultimate refreshment.
14. Any shot is better than no shot at all (i.e., trying to meet a girl with a worn line, say, is better than standing there dumb.)
15. The thrill of beautiful women is Exponential.

Notes from conversation with Jeff Clymer (circa July 20, 1982)

Respect Her + Don’t let her take advantage of You = Respect Yourself – Treat Yourself with respect.

By a) Respecting Her Wishes as overtly stated or
b) Use your intuition to find out if she really wants what she says she wants.

For example, if you’re with a prudish girl and you ask to kiss her and she says, “No” but inside she’s screaming “Yes,” then, to respect her, you’ve got to kiss her.

Guys like girls because they improve their self-image.

Pretty girls basically want the same things that ugly girls want.
Intelligence.
Wealth.
Looks.
Love.
Passion.
Social Position.
Self-Respect.
Personal Characteristics.
Self-Respect
Honesty—- (it makes your life move in tune with yourself) – insinuates correctness.

Nature is concise, it is succinct, it is awesomely powerful.

Beautiful women want money, power and social position.

My strategy with love will be (could be) to make decisions based on intuition with the belief that affairs of the heart are often so complex (simple?) that the power of the subconscious is needed in order to make the most effective decisions.

August 3rd, 1982
I feel like a God around women now. I got it flowing and everything is ok. I fell like such a stud when I fuck Diantha.
Diantha claims she is a witch. She says I am going to meet a beautiful woman in the next 2 months. She tells me I have a beautiful body. She tells me I’m a great lover. She says I’m the best lay she’s had in years. She says, “Where did you learn how to make love?” She says lots of things.
Linda digs me too.
I haven’t felt so confident sexually since the ship in 1977. JS.

Things I am learning:
2. Maybe I learned something from A&W girl: perhaps girls are bought up to believe not to talk to strangers. Again, it was like a jungle reaction. I didn’t give the girl time to think at all. Perhaps she responded that she had a boyfriend because it was the easiest way to alleviate the situation. However, I must mitigate these statements by saying: a) it is better to take a shot than to do nothing and b) I haven’t tried the sudden approached enough to know how often it works – it must work a certain percentage of the time. Nevertheless, I might suggest to myself that I try to be imaginative next time – perhaps try the back door approach as suggested by Harpster – think up an excuse rather than approach her directly. Lastly, perhaps there is a time when the sudden approach will be properly employed. That is, maybe it should be employed in some instances but not in others.
3. The Le Disc Girl: I think this may have called for the sudden approach. Perhaps I should have said to her immediately when she came up to me: “Hey, baby, let’s get out of here right now” and just grabbed her. She would have been shocked, but I can’t see what else would have worked right then. I knew she was with a guy – or it seemed that way. The other guy she flirted with got put down too – though he was kissing her. The other possibility was that I could have asked her to dance, but that doesn’t appeal to me because it would have been under the stare of her boyfriend and close to him and she was so high it wouldn’t have been probable to talk to her while we were dancing. Lastly, I must commend myself for keeping my cool, even though it was hard. I tried to work my way though up my second approach – however dumb it might have been. At least I tried. Good!

August 5th, 1982
I feel I’ve had a pretty shitty day, but primarily because I’ve been so incredibly tired due to lack of sleep too much pot, etc. I just got a phone call from Moño in Peru. It was made the whole day worth it, I swear! We talked (me in broken Spanish) for about 5 minutes. She says that she is coming to San Francisco in the end of September. I am looking forward to it immensely. We said all the usual “Te Quiero, Y mando un monton de besos y abrazos, etc.” Girls make me feel so wonderful!
Clymer and Hickey ruthed me for seeing Diantha so much. Yet, Diantha has been so great in bed that I can’t help myself. I’ve been thinking that if my goal is to fuck 1000 girls before I die (a goal which presently seems unrealistic to me), that it is of no use to me to go over there and get laid. In fact, in the event that my goal is as stated, then it is a weakness to go over to satisfy my sexual needs when I could be out fucking some new girls. I am being quite blatant about this, aren’t I?
Fucking Diantha has been fulfilling as a fantasy to me in a number of ways. One is to pick up a girl in a bar at happy hour and bring her home immediately and fuck her. Anther is to have a nearly strictly sexual relationship with good sex — and the feeling that I can just fuck on my command. Another is the force fuck the first time. When we were in bed the first night, she was sort of trying to keep me from getting in — I just started humping her and I barely got it in the threshold of her vagina when I came. But, it was so primal! I really found it a delightful new experience. The thing that seems to have happened is that my initial no-nonsense attitude has carried over and set the tone in subsequent meetings. Now, she is dying to fuck me. If I had Delana here again on a similar situation as were in before, I would just get it in my mind that she wasn’t leaving til I fucked her. When I think of how I had her here and didn’t fuck her, I get ill!
Anyway, in closing, I feel like a stud. I feel so much more confident in my sexual prowess then I did a few months back, that I am truly amazed! I hope it keeps up. I get to feeling that I can fuck a lot of the women I see, and I like that feeling. Girls do wonders for the way I feel and my outlook on life.

The following is a bonafide case where I was guilty of self-delusion. Since this writing, this girl has been nothing but unfriendly, which disproves its theory. I might add that next time I feel so unsure, that is probably because something is wrong.

October 31st, 1982
Since 10/22, I saw Mandy Tues(?), Thurs, and yesterday Sat.
Tue was great.
Thurs was okay.
Sat was pretty good.
God! She is so pretty!

~~~

GMT: 10.03.17 2 NOV 1982
Tuesday Hawaii Time 0004
San Francisco Time 0204
or 2:04am Tuesday

November 2nd, 1982
(A)(S)(L)
Yacht – Sugar Bear

We set sail at 9pm San Francisco Time Sunday Evening October 31st, 1982. We’ve been sailing for 29 hours – we’ve traveled 128.4 nautical miles. It is 1992.6 nautical miles to Hawaii, our first stop. Since this morning, we’ve been cruising at about 5 knots, with a beautiful 10-15 knot wind and clear skies.

~~~

WATER!
Being one (no doubt of many who always enjoyed sleeping and moving at the same time (for example, in a car coming home at night with someone else driving), I feel at once at home aboard Sugar Bear – not mentioning the fact that there is (presently) plenty of good food to eat.
I am filled with contentment, the sea is beautiful.
I’ve been having a great time. My main objective is to enjoy myself. I’ve presently been pursing this by means of sleep at the drop of a hat, eating whenever the slightest desire arises in my belly, and, just being here. I‘ve been doing no serious thinking – but I have reflected on all those back at home whom I love dearly. This includes my friends, my relatives, and girls of recent and past acquaintance. Reflection on these people is a good pastime. It makes this trip even more (very much more) pleasant.
I am so happy to be here. It is the fulfillment of a dream. With each fulfillment of dreams, hope and happiness grow.
I have been thinking of Mandy. She is so – beautiful. She makes nearly all women dim in comparison. How lucky I was to have met her in my last few weeks at home. Dad gave me that (awful) vinyl bag – and Linda told me I should return it for money rather than tell Dad I didn’t like it – when I returned it.
There was Mandy, and I asked if she’d like to come to the party. When I called her, I suggested that we get to know each other better before the party – she never came to the party, but we did get to know each other better. In my last nine days in SF, we went out four times. Each time we got some booze, parked (my Dad’s borrowed) car and made out – and talked. I never did do it with her – she (adamantly) claims she’s a virgin – she also said I was the only guy she ever felt comfortable with (in a physical situation) – that I put her at ease. It was so wroth it to spend time with her. I would get physical excited just looking at her.
I think we talked at least once a day almost every day since I met her. I called her yesterday before I left. I felt a little bit mushy saying it, but my last words were, “Mandy… I’m gonna miss you.” I was pleased and a bit surprised when she said, “I’ll miss you too.”
I realize I may never see her again, but it was a fulfilling experience in itself. The last thing I drank in was when I dropped her off Saturday night (at 3:15 am) and, opening my eyes, I see this vision kissing me, with her blonde hair, smooth skin, full breasts, my hand on her chest – in a $300 dress from Paris (it’s her mother’s). Mandy is beautiful. That did me a world of good.

~~~

The other (among women) reflection is Norma. God, how I love Norma. I’ll never understand myself.
When I went over Saturday to say goodbye, I broke down, but I didn’t exactly know why. I held her to me and sobbed. I just love her so much – but it’s different. I was not worried or sad, it was just a physical reaction. She was being nice. I carried her to the bed and she didn’t fight, she cuddled. Eventually, she said, “What?” I said, ‘Babe, I didn’t come over here with the intention, but now I’ve got it on my mind.” She said. “Well, get it off your mind.” I said, “Help me.” I said “please,” and she agreed to it.
We made love – it was wonderful. She always did turn me on immensely. She was always a great lover. When I held her close, she felt so yielding. I came, and sometime after she did.
When I left, we were both crying. She is so precious to me. She forgave me for what had happened. She said she loved me, as I had said to her.
I snapped a mental photo of her smile as she lay in bed when I left. She’s like the Mona Lisa.
These are my reflections of women – both extremely pleasant.
My other reflections are of my friends and family.
How I love them both.
I’ll describe that another night.
I’ll now crawl in my bunk and read for a while, then crash.
The boat rocks on, the wood and fittings creak a bit. The crew is fantastic. Boysie, a mountain of a man, fills me with respect and gratitude. I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity he’s given me.
The sailing is so smooth. I am blissful. I don’t expect that it will always be. But now it is wonderful and pleasant.
We have the autopilot, which steers the boat according to a compass heading – that is a Godsend.
This is wonderful.
I think of the party, the bon voyage, there are my relatives and my friends, new and old. My eyes water whenever I think of how much these people have added to my happiness.

November 2nd, 1982 0850
Whereabouts: 33°49’ 125°29’
(A)

I am settling into the routine of an ocean passage.
Kelly just handed me a cup of coffee. I’m lying up in my bunk, looking out at the vast blue ocean. As one can imagine, it is only so vast – it looks like a large lake.
The past few days have been splendid. First of all, the bon voyage was great. The whole thing of newness is always exciting – whenever I go someplace new, my life becomes special for a time. This is really new. I expect that the experience will continue to excite me for a while.
We have been eating well, and the weather has been clear since the first afternoon. We have, as is usual on sailboats, had some mechanical difficulties. The first few hours, we realized that our motor generator wasn’t working – neither was our engine. Both had to be bled. As a matter of fact, the problem occurred as we rounded Point Richmond, shortly after leaving the Bon Voyage party.
We pulled into Richmond Yacht Club and called Joe, our “Chief” Engineer, who is to meet us in Hawaii. He came down and bled them. When we headed away, I went down below to sleep, exhausted and intoxicated a little still from the party.
When I awoke, we were well outside the gate – the [Golden] Gate – I could, in the lightening darkness, see a faint shimmer of San Francisco. By this time, our generator was out again. When daylight was on, and my watch was over, I went below for rest. The watch was tough, because I was still so tired (now, I’m on the deck – my watch has begun – 0900 – it’s sunny and beautiful – no wind – wearily only moving at 2 ½ knots on a port track) and we had to manually steer the boat. Keeping awake was the hard part. Since that watch, we have switched to autopilot, which is a very useful device – all you do is set it to a compass point and let it alone – it responds to changes in the wind.
During the morning, I went into the engine room and worked to find the air leak in the fuel line. Kelly and I were the only ones who felt well. I think the reason the seasickness didn’t affect me was because I was following Frank’s advance (Frank was on the last cruise. He is to meet us in January. Frank said that I should keep my stomach full. He said that there would be times when I didn’t feel like eating, but that it would always help if I did. I am right at home with this sort of remedy – I have been adhering to it religiously, eating as much and whenever I can!)
I was very thorough in the engine room; in fact, I probably went too far – but we have been free of fuel problems since. It made me feel good to help out. See, the generator and engine are of extreme importance. The generator is responsible for cooling the refrigerator and freezer. Without it, our perishables would spoil. Also, the generator supplies the boat with DC power. Also, the engine can motor us along when the wind can’t keep us sailing above, say, 3 knots. Both charge the batteries – we still seem to have a battery-charging problem, which is another task to be attended to.
General life aboard ship so far has consisted of eating, sleeping, being on watch, doing chores, reading and writing. It’s fun to sit around while eating and while on or in between watch and BS with Boysie and the rest of the crew. Kelly and I share watch duty, which is 3 hours on and 6 hours off, rotating around the clock while on watch, we write in the log on average about once an hour. In the log, we write our compass heading, speed, latitude and longitude, the set of the sails, our track, distance traveled, and any other pertinent information.
Kelly is a good watch companion. We get on well, sometimes talking often laughing, sometimes reading and sometimes just watching. We make coffee, or hot chocolate or soup and we raid the galley. Take right now, for example, I am lying out on the starboard side seats in the cockpit, my feet up on the coaming. I am in the shade of the mainsail. I am “helmsman” right now. Boysie and Connie are below, doing whatever. Brad finished his watch and is in the main cabin, in his bunk resting. Kelly is aft, staring over the stern at the ocean. I’ve got on my shades, jeans, thermal under bottoms, tennis shoes, wool sweater and white cloth hat. It’s warmer today than the last two days, as we are sailing directly south to avoid any storms and to catch the trade winds, we imperceptibly begin around 600 miles South West of San Francisco. We’re probably about even with San Diego now, a few hundred miles offshore.
Yesterday, we set the fishing line, which is a simple contraption that needs little attention. It consists of a hook with rags or surveyor’s tape as a lure, a leader, a swivel, a 100 line of 1/8th inch nylon (600 lb test), a shock cord and some more surveyor’s tape. The latter two items are tied on board, the tape will crack when a fish strikes, letting us know we’ve got a bite. The shock cord takes up the initial shock.

14.47.39
November 3rd, 1982
Lat: 33° 17.87’
Long: 125° 52.24’
(A)

We are running the boat on Hawaii time, that is, 10 hours before ‘Greenwich mean time’ and 2 hours before San Francisco time. For example, now it is:

2:47.39 pm in Hawaii
4:47.39 pm in San Francisco
and 12:47:39 am November 4th in Greenwich.

According to our clock, it gets pitch dark by 3:30 or 4pm.
Right now Brad is working on the sink, which busted today. The salt water line broke, spilling salt water on our Handi–wrap supplies.
Right after lunch, we saw some porpoises. Brad spotted them, and Kelly and I ran up to the foredeck (bow), me with my camera. They were about 4’ long – there were two of them. They raced and swam around the boat, sometimes in pair, sometimes jumping out of the water. Then, they would dive. Their spiraling bodies seemed to be flying downward. The water is airy rich blue here. (Boysie says, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet” - Boysie says the blueness of the water is related, one could say, to its poverty – the less life, etc., the bluer – I suppose this includes microorganisms.)
The water is also very clear. When the porpoises dived deep their bodies could be seen for a long time. We were amazed at how clear the water was. One of the contributing factors was that the ocean was nearly a flat calm. It is velvety, slightly rolling. I took a few shots of the porpoises.
Night is setting in. I suppose I’ll go back to reading Tripli, a gripping novel that my brother Marc gave to me.
By the way, Kelly is doing a good job as cook. We eat three meals a day and multiple snacks.

November 3rd, 1982 1740
(A)(!!)

Phosphorescence! I have long heard of the phenomena. It’s the darkest night yet on the Sugar Bear. Brad calls us outside and shows us the phosphoresce in the water, caused by the turbulence of the boat’s wake. Moments later, he says, “I think some porpoises are with us.” We (Kelly, Brad and I) go to the bow and see a mystical show.
Like fairies in Peter Pan flying through the air, a small school (number indistinguishable) of porpoises send sparkles of popping luminescent green trails. They swim in intricate patterns and jump out of the water. Brad comments, that they are thought to be bisexual. I say, “I kind of figured so, the way they were flirting about, that they might be a bit on the wild side.”

I said, “They’re supposed to be, or thought to be, capable of verbal communication.” Brad replies, “They make noises.” We joke that they’re down there saying, “I understand those creatures up there are capable of verbal communication” and the other says, “Well, they make noises.”
(I’m sitting in the cockpit now, writing this by flashlight. Kelly is down in the main cabin making spaghetti. This is great. I love being cooked for.)
I took out my camera and tried a few time exposures of the porpoise’s phosphorescent trails. Maybe the blurred trails will come out on film. It probably won’t, but film is cheap and experiences like this aren’t.

The weather is warming up. Tonight I’m out here in just my t-shirt, undershirt and windbreaker. We’re motoring still since there’s no wind. We sighted a big ship today and tried to contact it, but they didn’t give us an answer on the radio.
Brad pulled one of Joe’s “classical” tapes out randomly and put it on – it was, naturally, some real country. It was a joke because before we left, Brad asked Joe what type of music he listened to and Joe said, “Mostly classical.” After Brad left Joe turned to me and said, “That includes country, doesn’t it?”
Boysie – that man can really tell a good story. We laugh a lot around the boat. Boysie is full of amusing anecdotes. I like the one where a fellow professor was working with a unique seed. The seed looked like mouse droppings. At a restaurant he dropped some on his plate and called the waitress over. He said, “What are these?” She replied, “I don’t know.” He said, “Well, they look like mouse droppings!” And on that note, he popped one in his mouth, chewed it and said, “By God, that’s what they are!”

November 4th, 1982 0815
Lat: 30° 58.52’
Long: 128° 33.14’
(A)(L)
Report from the Sugar Bear.
Yesterday, Kelly tells me, Boysie commented that if things don’t pick up, “our garbage is going to arrive in Hawaii before us.” Incidentally, all garbage goes into the water.
Good morning. 8am and Kelly is cooking breakfast. I just had a cup of hot coffee and a 5-day-old sweet roll – delicious. Kelly is cooking corned beef hash and eggs, toast; apple juice, milk, etc., to go along.
Last night, we missed dinner (one of my joys). I was almost upset! Kelly made me a sandwich and Kool-Aid for my 9 pm - 12 am watch – our watch, Kelly and I.
Everyone said that Kelly would start looking better sometime out at sea. How right they were. We were only 3 days out to sea when I was overwhelmed with the need and desire to fuck her lights out. I’m sort of restraining myself however.
1) It might be the end of the trip for me if Boysie found out.
2) I’m trying my best to play it according to Boysie’s wishes. That’s why I didn’t bring any pot on board. I don’t think he wants his crew fucking his cook. I respect Boysie’s wishes.
3) If I started fucking the cook, it might present relational difficulties of any one of a variety of kinds.

My motives for wanting to go for it are simple – as of, for example, right now while I’m writing this, I’m ready to spring on her and bone her. I can’t explain why I’m so restlessly horny towards her.
I figure it like this – if I’m going to fuck her at all, I want to start now. There is no sense in foregoing all that pleasure for months, only to discover I could have had it. Secondly, I have an opportunity to approach right now. Kelly and I stand watch once a night and everyone is asleep. Once we get to Hawaii Joe will come aboard. There may be a change in watches, etc. If I could get something going with her now, I could possibly secure a piece of nookie for the rest of the trip. Pregnancy could be a problem, but I think I know how we could get by the privacy problem.
Kelly has the forward cabin to herself. The door opens from the forward locker and shuts off the cabin from the main cabin. If we were on watch, and everyone was asleep, Kelly could close off her cabin. I could go into the head and into her cabin. It would have to be discreet. Even now as I write this, the idea seems somewhat impractical, if only because, here I am, planning for both of us before I even ask her if she’d like to.
The last consideration, Kelly. I don’t know her very well. I don’t know if it’s the farthest thing from her mind, or if she’s entertained a thought or two herself. I’m not asking for a romance or a commitment – what I am asking for is more like a business arrangement – simply, would she like to fuck with me and, if so, can we get on to it ASAP. I want to lick her pussy. She’s got to have red pussy hair, and I haven’t ever eaten a red pussy.
The plan: I don’t know if I’ll go through with it, but the plan is to ask her. The only thing [is] our relationship, which has started off as a good one. I don’t want to feel awkward – I just want us to enjoy our trip, if she’s up for it. If she’s not, I want her to take it for what it’s worth – an offer, and a perfectly normal and natural inquiry and desire.
She’s 31. God, I hope she doesn’t blow it with a big reaction. I’ll have to feel my way (this is sounding sexual for some reason). It would certainly add a little intrigue to the trip. Tonight we have the midnight to 3 am shift, following Brad and followed by Boysie and Connie. The plan is: if we’re talking as usual tonight to ask, and to put it simply, “Kelly, can I ask a simple question? Do you want to make it with me” I’ll feel better if I ask, as long as that by asking, I don’t blow the trip for myself or Kelly. I’ll feel even better if, well… I’ll wait and see what happens tonight. I suspect that Kelly is in love (with Hymie, her boyfriend) but, maybe, just maybe.

~~~

I’ve had some bizarre dreams on the ship – I mean, on the boat. One night I dreamt that two of the crewmembers – Joe and Frank – had died on the boat but it was before we left port (you know how dreams go). The crisis in the dream was to decide whether I should still go or not. Well, in real life, I would most certainly pull out.
Then, last night, I dreamt of Hockridge and a band. They were really stuck up. The thing I remember in the dream was the way he looked. He looked real young and like his face as almost fixed up with cosmetics. He had a headband (elastic around his head. From there, his hair went up and out into, well, like in this drawing.
[Drawing of face with hand band and curly hair that goes up like a triangle, base at the top.] The drawing looks pretty shitty, but in the dream, it really looked quite good. It was like the late 1980’s.
I had another dream. In this one, I had two offers to fuck from two women within a few hours. I was outside and there was some hullabaloo with the police or something. I kept finding money - $1’s, $5’s, $10’s and $20’s all over the ground. Now, Freud, tell me what it means!
I feel that out at sea, I should be writing profound thoughts or something, but I seem to be writing the most mundane thoughts. Nevertheless, it is pretty wonderful out here.
I started writing this in the morning, but now it’s almost 4 pm. I’m laying down in the cockpit in my favorite spot, with my feet over the coaming.

It’s sort of beautiful out –- thick scattering of clouds. The sun is almost set. The boat is almost surfing on the blue waters. Red scatters among the clouds – nebulous puff of a cloud off to our right nearly all red, with a sliver lining. Across it stream two white, small puffballs. The boat rocks in and out of swells whose small tops are 80-120 yards in diameter. It is a very serene setting. So far, the whole trip has been serene.
We’re cruising at about 6 knots. There is another ½ knot or maybe 1 of tidal current helping us on our way.
By Sunday, we should be well into the trade winds.
Occasionally, I think of Mandy. She was, is so beautiful. Odd how events go. I am glad to have known her. God, she is beautiful. I seldom ever even see a women as pretty as she is. What a great thing it would be if I saw her again someday.
It is almost a shame to scheme on a girl like Kelly, when my last kiss (and a good one at that) was from a 9.
Taylor, for example, I believe partly to impress. She was fairly nice looking. But compared to Mandy, she was dog meat. (Now I’m really getting profound.)
Today, I was prompted in Boysie Day’s Navy to Assistant Engineer, now acting Chief Engineer in Joe’s absence.
The sky is changing constantly.
The more Boysie talks about the tropics that we’re head for, the more I want to go. It sounds like a very interesting locale.
I am learning a lot about sailing. Boysie and Brad are good teachers and pleasant to work with.
OMOSHIROY – spelled wrong to be sure. Kelly says it’s one of the most used words in Japan (She’s lived there for 10 years.) It means interesting. I like the way it rolls off the tongue. Signing out, getting dark.

November 5th, 1982 0740
(A)(L)(!!)
Lat: 28° 53’
Long: 130° 5’

Good morning. We have crossed over the 130th parallel. We have also crossed below the 30th latitude.
Last night, about 2-hours and 10 minutes into our watch, I said, “Kelly can I ask you a straight forward question?” She made a joke out of it. I said, “Do you want to do it with me?” “What, the thermos?” (She had been talking about a thermos.) “No, do it.” “I don’t understand what you mean.” Putting my hands over my eyes, “Good, just forget it, I’m glad you don’t understand… use your imagination!” “Oh, now you’re getting heavy!” “No, not getting heavy… just asking a straight-forward question.” Pause. “Not particularly.” … God, I don’t believe it! You Americans are so direct! A Japanese man wouldn’t think of saying that! He’d die!”
We then exchanged stories about what people had said about her being on the boat – she told me that Connie had told her that sometimes at night – drills, and not to wear a negligee – how Joe and I had deduced that – sleeping forward in her cabin (she – and how Boysie had acted with – incredulity about that deduction – Kelly’s cabin.) I then told her that – that if Boysie – my saying what I said, that he’d probably kick me off the boat. She said, “Really?” I said, “He’d make me walk the plank!” and we laughed.
From there we went on talking as if nothing had been said, unless my deeper assessment was right – that I almost felt it opened up a new layer of friendship between us – just because I had been so straight forward and cool about it afterwards – no I am, again imagining. It’s Kelly who’s so straightforward and cool about things.
We rambled on until Boysie and Connie took over the watch, and even then we kept talking for 10 minutes or so. I hope that what I said will in no way detract from the voyage, or my part in it, or my relationship with Kelly or anyone else. Personally, I am glad I asked. At least now I won’t spend time wondering about it. I like to know. I like to have as complete information as possible. I hope that one just gets tucked away – if it doesn’t I guess I’ll accept that too.
Kelly told me about how Hymie (and she) had made money in Japan from selling prints. She told me about the superstitions in Bali, and about food and strict customs in Burma. On and on we go. Our conversations are very interesting to me.
~~~

I’m reading “Great Dialogue’s of Plato” now. It is fairly interesting. I’ll probably end up finishing it.

November 7th, 1982 1510
(A)(F)
Lat: 27° 9.13’
Long: 133° 0.33’

I have (I left with) $151.61 in cash and $1000 in traveler’s checks – in addition, I have about $3000 in Franklin Money Fund.

~~~

The boat is rocking!
Today has, so far, been a fairly eventful day. It began at 0300 with a watch. Kelly didn’t get topside until 0400, then we BSed the rest of the watch. The sky gets light at about 0430. Kelly and I get on good. I mentioned that when I get to Hawaii, I want to call Cappa and find out where he went to pick magic mushrooms. This leads the conversation around to drugs. Kelly tells me about how, in Bali, magic mushrooms are served in restaurants. Also, she tells me, in Japan, they have a different strain called Laughing Mushrooms, which make you laugh uncontrollably.
I told her about my four mushroom experiences, the best of which was when I went out to the Oceanside on a clear day and sat on the cliff side at Fort Funston with my new journal.
The conversation turns to pot. I told her how I had decided not to bring any because I knew Boysie would kick me off if I got caught with it. “I’m glad someone else on the boat likes to smoke,” says Kelly. She says she wants to buy some in Hawaii, which makes me recent thoughts surface: to purchase some: “Kona Gold” We agree it is some of the best pot around.
We agree that we will both try to buy some when we get there – to bring aboard, if feasible. How glorious!!
“I’ll bet Frank smokes.” “I’ll bet Joe smokes.” Kelly thinks Brad doesn’t, but I maintain I’ll bet he’s tried it before. I wonder if Boysie smokes. Kelly says she doubts it. She tells me Boysie’s son, Everett, and his daughter, Mary, are heavily into drugs. She says Everett is an architect for Transcendental Meditation Corporation. I thought he was a doctor. She says, Boysie said, one night when they were discussing Everett, “I can’t imagine why people want to meditate. What’s the purpose of it?” Kelly, “To make your mind a complete blank, to empty your mind.” Boysie, “Why would anyone want to empty their mind?” We both agree he was probably never smoked before.
Kelly tells me about a man named Brown, a Harvard graduate, whom she knows, now living in India, who turned on a Japanese guy to pot. She relates that Brown was high in Japanese government until the Japanese was caught – he told on Brown, as, Kelly says, Japanese are bound to do, and Brown was exiled. She says she’ll give me his address.
At about 6 am we hear a snap. Kelly shouts, “It’s a fish.” I start hauling in a 3’ mahi-mahi. It’s almost completely yellow. I haul him in carefully to make sure he stays hooked. Kelly calls everyone. I tell her to get my camera. I haul him in on the foredeck and tie it off. I clean it, gut it, and in an hour or two, we have a mahi-mahi breakfast. Great! Boysie claims it’s the best eating fish there is. We still have enough in the freezer for two more meals.
Right before the mahi-mahi struck, Kelly and I were playing with a flying fish that flew aboard. He’s about 1’ long. We take a picture of Mr. Flying Fish on my chest, wings spread, me, with a horrified look on my face. Kelly tells me of Henry Go lightly, who was saying, “Flying fish are like love. You see them out there in the water, flying to and fro, beautiful against the ocean and sky. Then you catch it, put it in a barrel and it starts to stink.” Kelly ate the flying fish for breakfast.
Proud of my catch – the mahi-mahi reminds Boysie of one Charles Charles, from Walla-Walla, who spent a small stretch in Sing-sing. He subsequently went to Bora Bora, where he met a go-go girl and they danced the can-can. Left broken-hearted, he went to Pango Pango, where he fished for mahi-mahi, then decided to commit suicide, and shot himself with a 30-30 using a dum dum bullet. True!
It is Sunday: Boysie says no work today.
Kelly and I are laughing nearly uncontrollably. I am reading Plato’s Great Discussions, particularly the Symposium (The Banquet). By necessity, this must be described as a record of a discussion between 7 or so senile old queers! It is absolutely amazing the way they carry on! The discussion is on Love – they consider heterosexual love in only a few of the thousands of lines and then it is referred to as base, common and vulgar. Boy-loving, on the other hand, is divine by their standards. Socrates was an obnoxious old homo! Well, it’s a laugh! Kelly and I are having a grand old time.
Looking through my possessions, I find $50 in a card my Mom gave me. I missed it the first time I opened it. I’m glad I decided not to throw it away. That’s fifty dollars towards Kona Gold.
Near the end of my 12 pm – 3 pm watch, we decide to trim sails because of a squall closing in on us. Down stay sail. Down pole. Reef genny all the way, leaving only the main. Moments later, the seas chop up, and the winds gust between 20 and 40 knots. It’s great. We are still cursing along at 6 or 7 knots, even with only the main up. Boysie says the boat has done 8 knots with bare poles, just due to the wind pressure on the hull and the rigging.
Kelly opens a package of 45 sticks of beef jerky. She says it was a gift to the Day’s and that there are 6 packages in all. She opens little packages of potatoes and plum wine from Japan. She says she felt it was well put when it was said that the Japanese adopt some idea, then they adapt it, and then they become adept at it.
I am going to rig myself in safety harness. If I fell overboard working on the foredeck in such weather as what we’re having, it might be my end.

November 9th, 1982 1545
Lat: 25° 11’
Long: 138° 23’
(A)
We are in the trade wind belt, and blow along constantly, day in day out. I didn’t write yesterday, because I didn’t get around to it.
Yesterday: The most memorable thing about yesterday is the mahi-mahi, our second catch. In the afternoon, Boysie announces that another one is on the line. We get him on board. My, they are a beautiful yellow when they first come out of the water. I chop off his head while he’s still half alive. You look at his pretty head and chuck it in the water. I announce that tonight, I want to gorge on mahi-mahi, and that I do. At suppertime, Kelly fills my plate four times or so with mahi-mahi, per my cooking instructions – i.e., leave out the overpowering California olive oil (no Italian on board) and fry him in butter, without the batter you used yesterday for lunch. With it is served scalloped potatoes. I absolutely gorge on this divine treat – “I think this is the best thing I ever tasted.” I am getting a gluttonous reputation.
Before my last serving, Kelly brings me some Sashimi – which, simply, is raw mahi-mahi. Kelly serves this in traditional fashion with Wassabi – the green horseradish type paste – and soy sauce. It is absolutely superb.
Kelly tells me that the ultimate in Sashimi in Japan is when they bring the fish in live and cut him up and eat him while he is still breathing. I vow woe to my next catch. I’m going to have Sashimi next to the toe rail. The fish is truly divine.
~~~

Today: Brad and I take a bath up on the foredeck. The women stay below even though we offer Kelly to see the floor show, the only one of it’s kind for a thousand miles around. The sun is out. We are in perfect trade wind weather. Puffball clouds fill the sky. The water is a tremendous blue, it is bluer than blue, it is the epitome of blue.
We get a bucket full of savory soap and salt water, rags, the salt water hose, the fresh water rinse-off canister and our towels, me, my shampoo. We strip naked and sit there in the sun ragging ourselves clean, laughing, yelling out to Kelly to take a picture, but she stays below. The water is warm and the experience is exhilarating. I’m glad I decided to clean up.
After the shower, I do some sail work in just my trunks. I get my first idea of what it will be like in the tropics when my only dress will be my shorts. It is wonderful.
Lunch follows, then I crawl in bed, read, sleep and write.
I really still want to do it to Kelly, but it is no problem, because I don’t want her that bad. How can she resist me?
We are just this afternoon more than halfway to Hawaii. I feel I could stay out here forever (in the boat.)

~~~
Boysie talks about Pig Latin, no, not pig Latin, but Pigeon English. Yes, Boysie talks about Pigeon English. He relates that it is used in many of the islands in, for example, the Soloman Group which we are to visit.
Pickaninny means child. Can you, then, guess what Hous Clos Pickaninny means? It means: children’s clothing store.
In fact, he says that the New Guinea Airlines is actually spelled Air Niu Ginni (I could be slightly off on that) on the airplanes.
My favorite: Do you know their word for piano? Box hittumteethhecry!

~~~

Talking about the quality of cooking on the boat, Boysie relates the story of the lumberjacks. It seems a group of lumberjacks had no one to cook for them. One spoke up and said, “I’ll cook as long as no one complains.” That evening, he poured a cup of salt into the stew, in an effort to get them to complain. They were all sitting at dinner and one of the lumberjacks spoke up… “Boy, this is salty… but it’s good!”

~~~

Bell the cat. The mice decided to hold a meeting to decide what to do about the cat. A clever mouse spoke up and said, “We should put a bell on the cat, then we’ll always know when he’s approaching. This was greatly applauded. Then another spoke up: “But who’s going to put the bell on the cat?”

P.S. – The way to catch a bird is to put salt on its tail.

In celebration, Boysie says that he may have an issue of rum.
Later: Sometime after dinner Boysie and Connie come out of the aft cabin with a bottle of Rock and Rye, and the five of us celebrate reaching the half way point. Well, we just visited for a while and we all got back to our business. Someone points out before we go back to our business (Brad, I think) that we’re always halfway to someplace! (A cause for celebration) Boysie mentions that after we leave Honolulu, we will pass near Johnston Island, a U.S. (Chemical?) munitions dump.
My night watches, on then tonight I am sleepy. I read as much Plato as I can.
November 10th, 1982 1815
Lat: 24° 9.76
Long: 140° 41.66

We’re now less than 1000 miles from Hawaii. These distances I give are great circle distances – the shortest distance on a globe. Rhumb line distances are the shortest distances on a mercator projection map.
If you fall in the water, it’s your life. It’s very dark outside tonight. We take down the staysail, working on the foredeck.
~~~

Boysie calls me Mr. Shea jokingly today, which reminds him of a story, a fairly aristocratic young man meets up with a captain at a party. “What do you do?” he inquires. “I am captain of a sailing vessel which goes to San Francisco.” “My, that sounds just like something I’d like to do!” The captain says, “Well, come aboard, you can learn how to be a hand on a ship!”
The next morning, the ship leaves port, and the young man is signed on. He’s walking along the companionway when he sees the captain, “Good morning,” says the young man. On this note, the captain gruffly raises his voice and says, “We’ll have no familiarity on this ship!” At the end of the cruise, they meet once again off the ship. The captain says, “Hi Jack! How’re you doing?!”

~~~

Boysie values his rolls of surveyor’s tape. You know, that synthetic, bright-colored tape used on stakes at construction sites. He says that the natives go crazy over this stuff. He relates that on the last trip, he started trading for things, and, pretty soon, before you know it, every fuzzy wuzzie for miles around has this stuff on his arm and wrapped around his head! I’ll have to see if I can get a few rolls for myself when we get to Hawaii.

~~~

A cleat (the wood shoes on which rope is fastened) ripped off today right next to my leg. There was too much pressure on it from the stair pail – snap! We’ll have to repair it in Hawaii.

2300 Hours
(A)(S)

The night is clear and the stars are bright. I am laying on the floor of the cockpit with a safety harness attached to the helm, in my sleeping bag, flashlight in left hand and pen in right. I am standing watch alone.
I am reflecting. I am reflecting on my loves and on my life. I feel as if I am sailing away from my youth, or, to be more precise, away from my past. I reflect how quickly the time comes that I should reckon my accomplishments and say, “Look here, man, you could die tonight – that was your life, what do you think of it?” In that perspective, I view my life.
Next July, it will be ten years since I achieved consciousness, that age when I became aware that to some extent, my fate was in my own hands. Yes, in that time, more has transpired directed at satisfying recognized desires than in my first eighteen years of life. But, now, let me look back, pretending that my life til now was all that was of it, all that shall ever be. I hope this is not the case, but I evaluate now.
The point that strikes me is that I did not have a satisfactory life. How much time was wasted doing trivial things to survive and prosper? How much time was spent pursing the unfruitful? My practical ambitions fulfilled did little to comfort me. Ah, the greatest comfort was my freedom. Freedom, to be clear, in this sense means freedom within myself to let myself wander – to let my mind be creative and unrestricted. These times were failures, yet these times were my only true successes, perhaps they were failures in that I attempted things which never came to fruition, but they were my only successes because they represented the only times when I lived life vibrantly, that I gave myself a chance to be free from the self-imposed bonds of the ordinary man.
Let me spell out these times: the times of music with the Hopeless Romantics – we took off – we were gypsies – we loved women as we could – but most of all – I carried an unfounded belief that we were successes and that ultimate stardom was ours. You see, it was a foolish scheme – from an outsiders vantage point, perhaps it was irrational. I, too had doubts – but there were the many sublime Moments of belief.
Europe was sublime, again, I was filled with strange thoughts of belief of my greatness, a greatness recognized only by me. Clearly, if a man’s worth is in his utility, I had none, for I was totally useless to anyone but myself. The down Moments were when the H.R.’s broke up, when Toniça stopped doing it to me after my South America trip and perhaps the lack of vibrancy in the last few years of my life.
My past life, it was probably as good as, and much better than many average lives, but I suppose I expect more. Un-encumbrance is what my desire is for, I believe. Un-encumbrance from even myself. Un-encumbrance from Reality.
I spent too many nights in an ordinary fashion going out looking to pick up women un-fruitfully, going out with average girls and maybe even fucking them, way too much time thinking about what people thought, worrying about what people thought, second guessing them I venture to say I spend too much time attending to piddly possessions, too much time trying to be right.
In short, I spent too much time not exploring new avenues, not be creative, relegating myself to tedium.
Oh Lord, if I live again, let me live full.

November 12th, 1982 1543
(A)(S)(!!)
Lat: 21° 20.82’
Long: 145° 30.42’

The natives of Hawaii were asked how they liked Captain Cook. “Oh, a little chewy and tough, but all in all, pretty well.”
The sun dodger is down and the sunshade is up. As Boysie said today, there is no way to describe to people what it is like out here. Pictures don’t describe it, motion pictures either. There is ocean full round, 360 degrees. The scattered clouds, and the constant trade winds. The boat rides the waves.
This morning I woke up and went to the foredeck to do some pushups and leg raises. I sat on the foredeck looking at the bow of the boat. It surges up very high and slumps down as the wave passes it. It is, for me, so wonderful out here. It is a dream.
You know, last week I made the question to Kelly about doing it (fucking is what I meant) and got the answer ‘not particularly.’ Since then, I’ve made no mention of it all. It reminds me of what Dr. Rach said to me in my forecasting class. He said if you have an idea that you want to introduce to people, say to someone in particular, you do as follows: let us say that you are at a meeting. What you do is, well- wait – let me first talk about the individual.
With the individual, Rach says, you take them to (a business) lunch. Over lunch, you casually mention your idea, and then drop it, and don’t mention it again.
Rach went on to say that then, at a later date, when you were in a meeting with this person, you would bring it up again. At this point, the idea would not be new to the person, and it would be more acceptable to them.
The principle seems to make sense to me. You bring up the idea and then don’t mention it again. This gives the person time to reflect on the essence of what you’re saying. Also, it must become apparent after some time that you aren’t applying pressure. With no pressure, the person would naturally feel more relaxed when considering your suggestion. Then, perhaps, you observe – you look for signs of behavior, which would indicate the person’s disposition towards the idea. Then, you act (or refrain from acting) accordingly. So much for theory.
As I said, I did not mention anything to her. About two days ago, though, I felt a bit harsh about the thing – I mean, I felt as if I had made a good offer and had been unappreciated, or I don’t know exactly how to describe it. It’s that feeling when you get a bit indignant and you don’t say anything, but maybe the vibes get across. Kelly was acting sort of bratty and I was afraid she was getting a big head about my small overture.
That day Kelly showered, came out of her room with French perfume on (Nov. 10th). Her perfume smelled like that perfume Bernadette had left as a remembrance of herself for me. I mentioned this to her.
The other night when I wrote about my life, I went to bed with the frame of mind that I was going to drop this whole matter of Kelly. I reflected on Aesop’s moral: Much wants more and loses all. Here I have this beautiful trip, a wonderful opportunity. I can scheme on women, enjoy them, at many ports. Why, then, should I risk all this for the chance to make love with Kelly? I thought I’d talk with her and tell her to please forget I ever mentioned it; but by the morning, this had mitigated to: “Let it ride, why do anything,” and this sprinkled with Darwin’s words: never give up!
So yesterday morning, I’m out in the cockpit. Kelly signals from the foredeck for me to turn around, that she’s taking off her top. I mouth back to her that ‘You’re a prude.” She signals, pointing to herself, and then pulling back the sides of her eyes to look like she’s oriental: I’m Japanese (shy).
I turn around and I’m thinking that this is ridiculous – you know, being so timid is ridiculous.
Shortly afterward, Kelly comes back to the cockpit and explains that she’s not that prudish, but that if Connie came on deck and saw me looking at her, Connie would be upset, so that was why she told me to turn around.
We had a little talk about such matters.

I asked her what she had meant that American men were so direct, in light of the fact that I had heard that Japanese men came on strong to American women, thinking that they were loose. She said, yes, they came on strong, but they took more time about it. She finished up saying that she guessed it didn’t make any difference in the long run how they came on, since both the American and Japanese were basically saying the same thing. I laughed at this and said, “Why of course it makes a difference how it’s done. Saying it makes no difference is like saying it makes no difference how the ingredients in a cake are prepared – you could put them all separately, eggs, flour, etc., into the oven, cook them, and then combine them, but the result would be considerably different than the normal cake.”
Well, the way things are done in romantic matters makes the romance.
I thought I noticed later that Kelly had put some more of that perfume on.
We had considerable breakdown with the motor generator during the day. I was in and out and in and out of the engine room. I really didn’t mind. Kelly says she feels sorry for me, and she says she’ll stand watch for me in the night. We have a cold dinner (no AC).
Midnight: 2345 Brad announces fifteen minutes til watch. Kelly’s up and around. We’re all joking around. Brad goes to sleep. I am still reciting our latest imagination – a new pop sensation called (Named) Bummerman Wow. Kelly and I are cutting up, laughing. It starts to rain and we’re under the dodger. I could just reach out and grab her. Sometimes I have been so spontaneous, I think – I wish I was more like that, but my reason usually gets the best of me – and this time reason told me that could be too scary for her – anyway, by the time I got to thinking, the moment had passed, the rain had stopped and she had hopped out from under the dodger.
We sat in silence for sometime, all I could think of was moving in on her. God, when she was under the dodger, I could just dick her. We sat without a word. After awhile, the rain came up again, and she got under the dodger again. The silence. I said, “No kidding, that’s very interesting!” and she, “That’s why I said it, because it was interesting.” “I know what would make this more interesting, and that would be a drink,” I said, after I had thanked her for helping me stand watch. She said she was thinking of Kool-Aid and I said I was thinking of gin and tiki-punch.
Clandestine, we got the bottles and made the drinks. We drank and talked. After I went to the head, I came out and she was standing up. I walked over and we stood next to the helm, facing one another, talking and drinking, the boats motion rocked us to and fro, sometimes closer than others. Once, I thought, now. Then we kept speaking.
I practically blacked out and my arm went around her waist and our lips met. I had my right hand tight against the bottom of her back, the top of her buttocks. As she tried to shift position, I held her tight, and we rocked against the helm. Before we left the embrace, I pulled her so that I could feel her breasts against my chest. We backed away, and I said, “What happened.” She said, “I don’t know. I was surprised though.” I joked, “Kelly, don’t ever try to do that again.”
It had been like lightening.
The rain started coming down and we swayed standing up, the rain in our face, the wind blowing all around. I said that this is what I wanted, to feel the wind and the rain.
We continued talking. I went down to the bathroom and noticed that the tiki punch had turned my tongue and lips red - real red. I came outside and said, “Kelly, you’d better brush your tongue and you’re teeth before morning.” Puzzled, she asked why. I told her because I noticed my lips and tongue were bright red and that I looked like Dracula! She said, “Oh, I’m glad that’s all, I thought that maybe it was because I had bad breath, that you notice it from the kiss.” I said, oh no, not that.
We put our bottles away and I poured myself one last drink for the two of us. (Earlier, when I mentioned that this drinking business was clandestine) she said she had not felt so sneaky since she was a kid.) We talked. Shortly before a quarter of three, I leaned over, again, almost involuntarily – like the moment when a wave breaks on the shore – and, putting my hand on the back of her head, drew her a bit closer and kissed a few times, very nice, very gentle. Moments later, Boysie popped his head out of his cabin and came topside. We made some sail changes at 3 am in the dark, and went to bed. The sail changes were messy.

~~~

We have less than 800 miles to go to Hawaii. I am not in a particular hurry to get there, but I am sure it will be lovely to arrive. Boysie and Connie are going to get a hotel room at a hotel close to, right on the marina, where the yacht club is. He said the first order of business is to unload the motorcycle, and get it ready for use. He said he thinks there are showers right there at the yacht club, but if not, we can come to their room to take showers.
I am still reading, Plato’s Republic. It is really quite interesting, but I don’t agree with much of what is said. It is however, striking up in me an interest in philosophy. The philosopher king.

November 13th, 1982 1550
(A)(L)
Lat: 20° 52.76’
Long: 148° 20.37’

It has been a day of work so far, but now I lay down to write.
A few minutes back, I was considering that the opening line of today’s entry would be, “I don’t even know if I should write about this because it will make me so horny.” Now that I’ve written that line, I am becoming so.
Mark this, that ever since this trip began, I have been remarkably horny. I don’t know if it is because of all the good food, or the rest or relaxation I’ve been getting – could it be being way from city noises? Perhaps it’s a combination of these things and good salt air. I suppose I’m usually pretty horny anyway, but at home, what with work, and before, school, and all the other activities my sexual instincts were subordinated somewhat. On this trip, however, as I said, I have been terrifically horny.
Sometimes when I am trying to sleep, I‘ll have hard-ons for, virtually, hours. Perhaps that’s coming because when I have to urinate and I’m sleeping, I tend to get erections – since I’ve been drinking a lot of fluids, I’ve had to go to the bathroom even more than I usually do – maybe that’s why I’ve had so many. But even if I’m on watch, sometimes I’ll just pop up. It’s incredible.
Yesterday, during the day, Kelly and I acted totally normally towards one another. After dinner, I was on watch, and, everyone else asleep, she came topside to smoke a cigarette, after doing the dishes – what there was of the. (The motor generator broke down again – we had hot sausage and cold beans – the generator broke down before she could heat the beans.)
It wasn’t very long before I kissed her. She had onion breath, but not bad, and I told her, “Onion woman!” Shortly after this she reached over and rubbed my chest, and I said, “Why’re you doing that?” She replied, “Because I felt like it.” So my hand slid around the coaming (side of the cockpit) and gently fondled her side.
Well, it wasn’t very long before I just grabbed her and hugged the life out of her, and she responded by hugging me. And it wasn’t very long before she spoke up to say: “I hope you know, the only reason I allowed this to start was because it’s that time of the month for me, and I don’t have to worry. It wouldn’t be much fun if I had to worry.” I agreed.
She felt my body and commented that she liked my muscles, that “they’re perfect, to my way of thinking.” I said, “Really? Thank you!”
She started rubbing my pants where my dick is.
She even climbed on top of me, at which point I suggested that we move to the other side of the cockpit, so in case Boysie comes out of his cabin, he doesn’t get too much of an eyeful. And we’re laughing at the thought of getting caught in an embarrassing situation.
On the other side of the cockpit, we are hugging and rubbing each other in the crotch, and exploring one another.
She is a woman or reason. So we planned. We shouldn’t do it while I’m on watch, because the trip and the boat are number one. I told her that everything was subordinated to the trip. We talk personalities and responsibilities. Boysie’s main concern, we feel, is to operate the boat in an orderly fashion. More than the six bordering him would be a missed or lax watch. Therefore, no sex while I’m on watch. I say no sex while Boysie and Connie are on watch because it’s too risky – I don’t want to push the man. This leaves Brad’s watch. We agree that it should be in entry (which comes every hour on the hour or thereabouts). The watch we’re on ends at 9 pm tonight. Brad comes on at midnight. We agree that I’ll come to her cabin at about 10 minutes after 1 am.
I suggested that she close her door, but she felt that would be suspicious since she always leaves it open.
At about quarter of 1 am. I went to the bathroom to relieve a three-hour hard on by taking a piss. My alarm, which I thought was a quiet one, resounded, and I felt sure both Brad and Kelly could hear it too. I ran out of the bathroom (head)- dashed is a better word, since the door to the head is only 3 or 4’ from my bunk – not likely to get to a run in that period required to travel 3’ and hop to my bunk to shut off the alarm.
At the appointed times, Brad made his log entry and I made my way to Kelly’s room shortly after. I got in her bunk and we took off our clothes, except for her shirt. We touched and hugged. I was a little nervous being in such plain view, so I had us move to the other side, where, it turns out, we are even more conspicuous.
I admit that the very first time I fuck a girl I am a little nervous, maybe it is fed partially off of the usually slightly nervous girl. I wonder if it will be good, or if she will be too big or me too small, or what else I don’t know. So I usually lay around, being, or at least feeling, like sort of a dud sexually, but happy as hell to be there – and, after a while I usually start fucking the girl, and find out it’s wonderful, and, even if not, the girl is usually somewhat encouraging; and by and by, after one or two fucks, I get in the swing of things, and become the horny bastard that I am, and want to fuck the girl’s lights out, and take every opportunity to do so. The first fuck is always the hump (no pun) for me. It’s symbolic, because it means all the anticipation is over, and I feel more relaxed and able to enjoy myself.
After the first time, it can usually only get better and invariably, it does. So I don’t feel self-conscious anymore, after all, she knows what your cock is like, and, if it was good enough the first time, it should progress. It usually progresses into extremely satisfying sex, the more I do it to a particular girl, usually the better it gets. I wonder if this is true for other people; I think I’ve been told it is. I wonder what the girl goes through the first time.
The situation here has the added factor that we’re trying hard not to get caught, and relax at the same time. I crawl on top of her after we’ve moved back the port bunk, and we’re making out. I look up and Brad’s sitting at the log table about 5’ away. I whisper that for sure we’re caught, but we lay low.
I want this to be a natural fuck. Sometimes in this situation, I’ll fantasize that I’m with someone else or in a different situation, and that tends to get things going. But I’m tired of that bullshit, I think to myself, I want to fuck Kelly, I want to be here. I want it to be real, and I want it to be as exciting as all the thoughts that have been running through my mind when I see her bending over and climbing out to the cockpit, etc., ao I just hang loose, mentally.
By and by, time is passing on. Kelly grabs my dick, which I like, and puts it inside her. It’s barely hard, but it feels good, and this leads to hardness, and this leads to even better feelings. It feels good, and I’m thinking to myself if it feels this good when I’m barely excited, imagine what it feels like when I am really excited – and I find out momentarily as I thrust deeper, and she’s acting like she’s creaming her pants. I feel her cervix, I think.
Utterings of uh-huh, and deeper thrusts and better positions and (I’m not really trying to hold back on the first fuck) after a short time, a few minutes, I don’t know, maybe 4 or 5, I come inside her and feel this happiness. Intensity.
We just laid there, hugging – gee, it feels so nice. Finally, about 25 minutes of 3 am, I’m starting to leave and starting to want to fuck again. She says she wants to come outside with me, and asks me if she should wait or come out now. I say wait.
I get back in bed, and when Brad comes down to give me my 15-minute notice, I pop up before he says anything. I go outside at 5 of 3 am.
The hour goes by slowly, fine by me. I’m gazing at the stars and feeling awesomely bitchin’. The stars are beautiful. I feel great, fine – I read Plato and my mind wanders into the future and sees me as being a philosopher, of making this my lifetime academic and spiritual study. I consider the dream I had where there was a missing link in a circle, that I analyzed as meaning there was a missing part to my five-sided life goals in Finance (Intellectual), Adventure (Physical), Love (Sexual), Entertainment (Emotional) and Success (Spiritual). I need a philosophy to hold it all together, and to rule it. I think of how awesome Plato is. I feel waves of sensation. I dream of making music.
At 4 o’clock, I log in. I go into the head and come out in Kelly’s head door. She grabs my leg and my arm and sits up. She says she’s coming outside. I tell her to go back to sleep, but she says she wants to come outside.
Outside, the same kissy face. She says she feels normal, that she doesn’t feel weird about it. I say that I understand and feel the same way.
We’re still grabbing each other. I suggest we break the agreement and go back inside. She says she wants to stay outside though. At about 5:30 am I send her off to bed.
I’m deliriously horny now I go into the head and again come out into her cabin. I start making out with her and rapidly, I’m fucking her blind, intensely, and each thrust feels like heaven. I feel powerful, and manly, and confident – supremely, and, again, I feel delirious with lust.
I look out at a noise, afraid Boysie might come outside early. The sails are buffing, making that familiar flapping sound. What if Boysie comes topside to check. Kelly says maybe we should stop, shortly after I had resumed. I say “Yes, OK,” and start getting dressed. I look out and see nothing. I look at her and start to take off my pants again. Kelly sits up and looks at me says, “Jeff, think of what’s important.” I say “yes, you’re right,” thinking about the trip, and minimizing risk. I say goodnight and go outside. Nothing happens until Boysie comes out when I’ve called for him. I’m wondering if I should have stayed, but I realize that I’m just thinking that way because nothing happened. Had Boysie stepped outside, I would’ve been relieved I was playing the odds. Boysie relieves my watch. I go to bed agonizingly horny.
I reflect on the passion when I was in there. Kelly yielding and feeling like she’s melting, laying back, spreading her legs.

November 16th, 1982
Tuesday Morning 0610
3 am watch – over
128.6 miles to Oahu.

Saturday night we did it twice, Sunday once (she gave me great head on my night watch), and last night twice more. I felt sort of down when I left her cabin and came on watch at 3 am because I feel my sexual performance has been lacking. When I want to fuck her, I often can’t because someone’s around and it is sort of frustrating.
But anyway, I was sitting up there and up came wonderful Kelly with her cassette player and headphones for me to listen to, and she asks me if I want to smoke some pot. She’s obviously been in the bathroom cleaning up a little, her breath is fresh, she feels great. She told me before that she didn’t have any, but she really did. She brings out a pipe and we smoke. Actually, I do, she’s already been in the head getting stoned.
The music is great, and the pot gets me stoned. The whole time we are kissing and hugging. Damn, she’s such a great kisser and lover. I really love it, and we kiss and hug all the time.
We go up on the forward deck. The music is really great. I’m leaning against the motorcycle and she’s snuggled up to me. She produces some banana nut bread and feeds it to me. We hold each other tight.
The whole watch, I’m thinking about how much I love her, I think she’s so great. When we touch, there’s a real warmth there. It feels so wonderful and comfortable and sensuous.
She’s feeling my body over and over. She tells me, “Your jacket is lucky.”
I wish we’d keep on like this for the whole trip.

November 16th, 1982 1510
(A)(L)
Lat: 21° 31’
Long: 156° 40’
Re: Last night.
My friends were right about how great it would be to smoke pot on board. It was awesome last night to sit up on the foredeck and drink in the whole scene. The bow raised up and down, the water motioning in a timeless rhythm, Kelly warm by my side, the music in the headphones, the stars and clouds in the sky. I felt a bit of deja vu, as if I were some Arabic sailor from One Thousand and One Nights. Kelly and I agreed to try to score some pot when we get to Hawaii.
Last night was so fantastic and pleasurable. I don’t mean for these writings to be dominated with information about Kelly, but I think for a while it might be, simply because it’s on my mind.
I’m determined to record the truth in this diary, even if it is painful or embarrassing to write it. If it isn’t truthful, expect in cases obviously for some intended humorous impact, it will be as good as worthless.
Why does love bring pain? It seems to. When I am kissing Kelly, I feel so great, so happy and passionate – but when I’m not I’ve been feeling a bit disturbed. When we’ve been making love. I haven’t been getting really sexually excited, and that is killing me. Now I like sex when I pop right up and fuck confidently for between 10 and 45 minutes on an average.
When I do that, I feel like the girl is satisfied – well, usually it’s mutual – and I can walk away from it feeling great – my pride is up. Unfortunately, when I’ve been fucking Kelly, I’ll lay there for a while and then feebly fuck her, only somewhat hard, and not feeling very confident. On the other hand, when we kiss and such, I feel so powerful and great. Also, the morning after the first fuck. I was fucking her vigorously and that was great. The best sexual thing so far has been the blowjob she gave me when I was on watch. She sucked on my cock for maybe twenty minutes. It felt great. The whole time I was rock hard.
I am at a fucking loss. I want to be an effective fuck, but I don’t seem at part. I’m afraid now that she’ll turn to Brad. It’s bothering me. Before I started this affair I was content, but now I’ve got butterflies in my stomach. I haven’t talked to her about this, and I’m holding back because I don’t want it to get any worse.
I feel that if I was being a powerful lover, I wouldn’t feel this anxiety; but the anxiety feeds on itself no doubt. I’ve really, for my peace of mind, got to work it out.
I am banking on the hope that I will get over whatever’s troubling me. I am confused.
Is it that I’m in love? I just wish I could establish sexual dominance. Also, there are other considerations. We virtually have to be sneaky about this whole thing. Yet Brad knows. We wrote (Kelly just walked in and gave me the tape player to listen to), rather Brad wrote a message in a bottle and put, on our request, my and Kelly’s addresses in the message. Kelly couldn’t read his writing and asked him what it says and he whispers “…contact Kelly Soma or Jeff Shea who are lovers on this boat.” So he wanted to let us know that he knew. I don’t know if I should feel for Brad, but I tend to think not – he’s probably not affected by me and Kelly, and, even if he was, as Dave Gaetler says, “He’ll get over it.” Anyway, all this sneakiness bothers me. Should I be open about it?
Another thing is what will happen when –
i) We get to Hawaii and
ii) When Kelly refuses to fuck because she’s past her period and can get pregnant.

In Hawaii, I may never see her. I said once, “I probably will never be on the boat when we’re in Hawaii.” She said the same thing today.
Today when Kelly bathed, I encouraged Brad and myself to take pictures of her. She let me take a lot of shots. When she was drying off, she asked Brad (I was below) to get her clothes. He brought them to her. I don’t usually get jealous, but I feel a bit about her being nude willingly in front of Brad.
Who knows what the outcome of all this will be. I wish that she’d be sexually available and loving to me throughout the portion of the trip I’m on, that this carries us to Japan, that she doesn’t make it with anyone else on board, and that we learn to please one another sexually in and out of time-imposing situations and that a sense of relaxation and trust and love grows between us. But what do I know? Pipe dream.
I suppose that when we get to the Hawaii yacht club, I’ll walk down the road, to Waikiki Beach, and do my best to fuck (anyway, strongly or feelingly!) as many beautiful sun maidens as I can. Maybe that wouldn’t make her too happy, either, but I agree with Cappa, never second-guess a woman.
I want to say, for the record, that I do believe, in the bottom of my heart, that I am a very good lover. I’ve made many women satisfied, and myself too. It’s not that I haven’t good experiences behind me, but I get threatened when things aren’t right. Sneaky situations haven’t always been my forte.
All in all, however, I must say, any pain I’ve felt, has been compensated with heavenly feelings. I swear, when I am arm in arm with Kelly, I’ve seldom felt anything so right. I said she was homely before we left. Now, I look at her and think how beautiful she is. I want to believe that the extreme beauty and happiness I feel when I look at her is real.
Maybe I should just open up to her.
~~~

Today I caught my first glimpse of the Hawaiian Islands. Fifty-five miles in the distance, skimming above the clouds were the 10,000+ foot peaks of the island Maui. We should reach the yacht club on Oahu early tomorrow morning. I’m going to see if I can get away on the motorcycle.
Viva!
I still plan to make this the most fantastic trip of my life. I’m not one to be kept down for long.
I think I’m going to go pour myself a gin.

1830
The clouds are animals if you want them to be.
The world’s parts are in a love affair.
Yielding to each other, in turn
The sea yielding its water to the clouds.
The stars and all heavenly planets
Exerting their influences on one another
Each in harmony, sometimes violent.
I am a part of that love affair.

Before dinner tonight, I sit on the foredeck looking at the whole scene, with Oahu in the distance, the sun setting, the bow raising and lowering, with me seemingly at the helm of the scene, the clouds seeming to be forming into the shapes of animals, in play. The union of all the elements of the universe. I press the play button and my favorite song of Kelly’s trap comes on. For one of the few times of my life, in shorts and t-shirt, I truly fell like a God.

November 17th, 1982 1720
Hawaii Yacht Club
Honolulu, Hawaii

Awesome.
About last night, one of the awesomest nights of my life, (we cruised into Hawaii Yacht Club at 3 am last night).
The scene I described above was amazing.
After dinner, I was told to get some rest by Boysie, but as I lay there, I couldn’t. I knew Kelly was up, I couldn’t stop thinking about that. She was up there, flirting with Brad. I finally decided that rather than lay their miserable, I’d drink something.
I was sitting in the dark drinking a glass of port Boysie had poured. Kelly came down and I asked her for a cigarette out of the pack I’d given her. She sat there and then was on her way out the companionway, when I impulsively grabbed her shorts and yanked her back by my side, and we started kissing. We sat there like two lovers. Brad appearing occasionally in the companionway, kissing and holding one another. She felt so good to me. I put her hand on my hard dick, and she caressed me over and over. Finally, her mouth started to go down there, she looked up and said, “Is it okay?” And I said, “of course, of course.” She proceeded to give me head, and I was sort of looking out to make sure Brad didn’t appear.
After a while, I had to pull her away, and she said, “I’m sorry.” I said, “You don’t have to say that. You should be anything but sorry. I loved it.” She said, “I loved you too.”
She said, “Are Boysie and Connie going to a hotel? I hope so.” I said I knew what she meant, that it would be good for them, and for us. She said, “Are we going to be able to sleep together.” Involuntarily, and quickly, a replied, “God, I hope so.” She said, “Maybe I ought to get ‘something’ in Hawaii.” I said, “Maybe… probably.” She said how did I know what she was talking about. I said, “Oh, shucks I suppose.” I assume she meant birth control.
I went up to my watch.
Boise had said, “Jeff, if I was you I’d be extremely nervous tonight. It’s a stand up watch.” We’re going to port; I understood.
I had been telling Kelly how I wanted to think profound thoughts on this trip, as I had told her that I thought I had finally achieved this one before dinner sitting on the foredeck. She sent me to my watch with the words, “go up there and think profound thoughts.”
I stood up next to the motorcycle and looked out in the distance. It rained. Though sheltering myself by standing behind the mainsail. I was reflecting on Plato’s words (accredited to Socrates) about how the masses see beautiful things but the philosopher sees beauty itself. I peered deeply into the horizon. I thought I understood.
I stayed up, and Kelly got up; and all of us were up, guiding the boat, rounding Diamond Head, searching for the entrance buoys. I felt supremely happy. I remember thinking and asking myself if I was truly completely happy, and the answer is yes. When we docked, Boysie brought out the booze, and we had a celebration drink. It was grand. “I had a friend,” says Boise, “who made all types of liquors. The best he ever made, I think, was Old Hen. Two drinks, and you lay.”
Kelly and I were the last to go to bed. We were in the room, and lying down. It was a very serene in the harbor. I was unconcerned, sort of, about sexual performance and all. I was so in love with her, I didn’t care anymore. All that was important was the words she said which let me know that she wanted to sleep with me. After I had heard that, I was so happy.
It was an awesome sexual experience. All my longing and desires came out. We fucked like mad, I held her ass in my hands and fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked. It was her beneath me, and all my thrusts were for her. I felt supremely confident. It was relaxed, for if I wanted to say something, I said it, and told her where to move on the bed. I felt like I was in charge. Coming was wonderful.
The duration of the love, I was thinking, as I held her tight, “Do you think I’d let you go, now that I have you beneath me, with me inside of you, and you yielding?” It felt like the morning after the first fuck, when we had to cut it short – that fantastic feeling of lust. We didn’t have to cut it short last night. I thought I finally got the experience I had longed for. Total love, total command, and lust, with consummation.
We lay there and she said, “Towards the end, I felt like you were going to kill me! I’ve only been with one other American. You’re so strong. All the others have been Japanese.” She affirmed that she liked it.
We lay there, and after a while, I got hard again. We fucked, and it was wonderful. I almost was coming, but she was sore and it stopped for a while. She suggested another hole. I said fine. She said I would be tasty, so she lay down and sucked me off. I never came, but I didn’t much care. It had been a hurricane of love. It was so passionate and full of feeling. I don’t remember falling asleep. She had said, “Let’s go to sleep,” and by the time I felt it was justified. It must’ve been going on 6 am. But I don’t remember falling asleep.
We awoke together at about 730, together, in her room. I said, groggily, “I feel like we’ve just been through a hurricane. God, I felt awesome, and wonderful.
Good morning, Hawaii.

1905

Sex can be generated by a lot of things, but love is the best.

P.S. to last night:

While I was laying in my bunk after dinner, before I got up to get a drink, before all of the salient attempts of the latter evening, I was feeling that last, forlorn feeling of love, as I contemplated Kelly flirting with Brad. It was then that I affirmed myself that I would never, succumb to those feelings again, it was time to fight them.
Listen, when Gary Cappa and I were in South America, I was forlorn over Toniça, my beautiful new Orleans 16-year-old (then around 17). I struggled with myself to continue on to Tierra Dell Fuego, but eventually flew home a little early with the thought:
I am really the adventurer and world traveler I think I am, I can fly home to check this out, with confidence then I will be off again to other lands in the future.
It was a lesson. I thought last night, I am never going to let romantic matters ruin a trip again, not that it ruined the trip to South America, but it put a damper on the latter portion of it, to the extent it influenced and was prevailing on my mind.
Well, last night, I determined that I would be strong. It felt so much the better but things worked out so well after such an affirmation. Also, the affirmation about being a lover when in despair, proved good.
Personal though it may be, a victory.
So I write about my victories, and I write about my failures as well.

November 18th, 1982 2105
(A)

Last night Kelly and I went on “joyride 1982” on the motorcycle. We’d gone out to look for MJ.
On the streets, we asked some dude named Roni where the dealers were. We talked for a while and then began to walk away. We turned and walked back, and when we passed him, I asked him if he had ever heard of Po-Po Blue, a legendary marijuana. He said, “No.” Then, he said, “You want to smoke some pot? Come along.” So we sat down and had a joint. We asked him where to go and he told us about where we could find some dealers.
The one-way streets here are confusing to a newcomer, especially when you’re spaced out. We kept going in circles. We got stopped twice by the cops, who thought we were riding two on a moped; they said, though, we were legal, but we had to wear eye protection.
Kelly and I went back to the boat and emerged with sunglasses, a Walkman cassette, with me, the driver, wearing headphones, and with layers of clothing, because it was a bit chilly on. It was almost midnight.
As we pulled away from the yacht club, I pressed the play button and announced “Joyride ‘82’.” The third slow down traffic bump caught us. I was flying over them and Kelly’s foot-peg fell off.
As we passed the Burger King, Kelly said this was a good spot. The first guy I asked said, “You’ve come to the right spot. He said he’d return. He convinced an El Camino cabs load of girls to give him a ride up the block.
He came back. We walked behind a building. I bought the best three of four $20 bags of Hawaiian.
Kelly and I asked around about buying an ounce. A guy named Stan told us of an ounce for $130. He said they all hung out at Kitchen, a place a block or two away. (We were one block from Burger King.)
All this is taking place on a street corner. All the guys hanging out there are very cool, helpful and friendly.
Kelly and I scoot off and are waved on. We sit by the canal and light up.
It took us a while to get back to the yacht club.
She didn’t want to stay in the room for the night. She said she wanted to get a good nights rest. (We had about 1½ hours the last night – I napped for two hours during the day). It was a confused situation. I was taking it personally. She said we’d do it at a later date. I went to sleep next to the refrigerator hatch on the lower starboard bunk – the settee.

November 19th, 1982 0904

I am so happy, I can hardly believe it. I had intended to ask Kelly about “getting something” here in Hawaii (birth control) the night of the 17th, which I described above.
Yesterday, the 18th, was alright! We worked a lot, today, but it was great.
When Boysie, Connie and Brad left about 10 am, Kelly and I were working in the main cabin. Connie had once warned Kelly about getting in “compromising situations.”
Kelly was bending over, cleaning the refrigerator. I started playing with her crotch. Soon, from behind, I worked the tip of my dick inside of her.
We went into the bedroom and made love. It was very good. We 69’d first. It was the first time I ate her delicious pussy. Her pussy is velvet smooth. Meanwhile, she is sucking my cock. Which she does superbly and for protracted lengths of time.
When we were done fucking missionary style, we were talking, me on top. She asked me what I had meant when the night before I had said that we’ll have to stop doing it soon. I explain that soon she’ll have to worry about pregnancy. She said that she thought I had meant we’d have to stop permanently, and I assured her I didn’t mean that. Then she suggested that she could get some birth control pills. She said that she hadn’t taken them for about two years, so it was okay (moderation is good), that there had been no reason to take them without a steady boyfriend. I said we could go to Planned Parenthood.
This development makes me extremely happy. The thought of fucking Kelly all the time without worrying about pregnancy or disease is a really superb.
Before we got back to work, we smoked numerous bowls of Hawaiian marijuana. Then we worked our butts off from 11:45 till the evening.
At 5:45 pm, we took David Yamamoto back to his house in his truck, which he is “lending” to Boysie for $15 a day. This included stopping off to buy quick-service insurance. We didn’t get back to the yacht until about 8 pm.
Dave told us, on our prompting, where we can buy liquor cheap, fishhooks and other items. He told us about places on the other side of the island that is heavily into cultivation, and he’d mark this on the map. He told us, as I asked, that mushrooms grew at Kaibua in horse (and cow) maneuver. Dave is a wealth of local information. He’s supposed to comeback on Saturday for breakfast at the yacht.
Kelly cooked me an omelet when we got back to the boat. Brad and Boysie went to play cards and Connie went to bed. Kelly and I went into her cabin. We smoked pot and divided up the pot.
I pulled her to me, and we made love. It felt so classic. Making love with her is a blast. When we had finished, she was resting her head on my stomach. She made the slightest movement of her head towards my crotch, which put the idea in my head, and I pulled her head toward my crotch. She sucked my cock in the dark for a good long while. Finally, I turned her over, put it in her from behind, got my head around the front of her pussy, and fucked her again.
I woke up in the morning next to her. She brought me some coffee. We both agreed how nice this is.

November 21st, 1982 1950 HYC.

I just woke up. Today Kelly and I rode around the island. We went by Sea Life Park and entirely up the east coast of the island. We had a shaved ice and a $.05 “Depression coffee.” It was a really neat ride.
Kelly and I fucked the night of the 19th, and yesterday morning we were fucking around but I didn’t come. Last night, however, she didn’t want me to sleep with her. It was sort of a bad scene. She had good reasons, but, naturally, I would protest such a thing. I don’t like it when I feel I am losing my grip, my control.
Joe came yesterday. Boysie said, “have you and Joe worked things out about sleeping arrangements; I hate to tell you, but Joe’s higher in rank than you.” I replied: “I understand.” Brad whispered (loudly): “Jeff’s already got a place to sleep, but we won’t tell Boysie that!” Kelly overheard and said: “Not always!”
Yesterday, I located a place that we can get birth control pills on Monday. Kelly agreed on it (I’ll pay half), and she thanked me for investigating it.
Yesterday, I called Norma, and I sent her a check for $500. She and Clymer had a meeting since I left. She taught one of his classes the day after I left. They went out. Norma told me that she found out: “That it wasn’t Clymer who spent three days with a girl at my place, it was you!” And “You had a party on Sunday and didn’t even invite me!” I asked her if she was mad, and she said no. She said she missed me and that she still loves me. I told her I loved her. We repeated this many times. It was a warm conversation.
Next I called Clymer. Dave answered. Clymer told me I was a living legend. He asked me if I poked the cook. I said I held out for a while, but I gave in. He said consensus had it that I would, that he had surmised within four days. I told him 12. It was a pleasant conversation of bobbing each other out.
Today, I was free from work – but only after I began at 4:30 am to line the water tank. It took me two hours, then I took the motorcycle and went to Waikiki Beach for a dip. Following this I brought a pineapple back to the boat. Kelly and I left on our around the island adventure at 9:15 am.
P.S. To today’s entry: I woke at about 4 am; before I went to work on the water tank, I snuck in Kelly’s cabin. She was pissed off and told me to leave, kicking my legs on her way to the head. She said she needed sleep and that I was selfish. After that I had to bob myself out by finishing my chores and a swim at Waikiki, and a trip around the island, as described.
The bike run around Oahu was fun. When we had almost gotten back, we pulled into a sheltered place to get out of the rain. We smoked pot and made out heavily. I love kissing her. I feel I love her so much, but I can’t tell how she’s feeling or what’s in her head – furthermore, I’m not going to try to second-guess her, but just take it slow, and dwell in my own bobness.

November 23rd, 1982
Tuesday 1720
Hurricane in progress.
Development within the last few days south west of Hawaii, six hundred and fifty miles; now it is within a few hundred miles – due to hit Oahu at midnight tonight.
We’ve had some gusts of wind to over 50 knots in the harbor. We moved the Sugar Bear to a breath from our original moving to escape the current in our mooring.
Yesterday, Kelly got her pills – sixth months worth. She got a free doctors exam. I paid $12 for the pills. She paid $18 for medicine.
We went out in the evening and scored $45 for a ¼ ounce at the Kitchen.
On my reconnaissance early in the evening some Hawaiian told me he had an ounce in his towel. I said “Let me feel it” and reached out and pinched it – it felt like sponge rubber and I commented as so.
I was warned about guys trying to get you in a dark alley to look at their pot. Ask to see your money (which he did), but don’t want to show their weed.
Weird.
Things are flowing along. Everyday is a new experience.
Yesterday I took the motorbike up on the beach. There were two foxy women that walked on by and up the beach. I ran the bike up the sand beach, thinking I could get through to Ala Moana Blvd. I ended up in an outdoor terrace restaurant of the Alawai Hilton. A policeman asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was just about to turn around, so I did and cut back cross the stretch of beach I had covered.
I sometimes rode it close to the water, then brought it up to the more-loosely-packed sand. The bike rode well.

2310
I am doing a “hurricane watch.” Some hurricane! The winds have died to only 10 – 20 knots! I have to admit though that at times the howl of the wind has been fearsome.
Yesterday was awesome because of plentiful and wonderful sex. I went into Kelly’s room at about 3 am. We ate each other and made it. After awhile, we did it again with her on top to start. We slept for a while; then, early in the morning we fucked again. And we both snuck out of her hatch cover and went to take showers.
As I mentioned, in the evening, we scored. When we had scored, we took our pot and walked to a parking lot. Kelly had to take a piss – she unzipped her pants, and urinated through the space provided by wedging her hand between her crotch and her pants. I asked her if I could touch it, and she said sure. I put my hand in the dark area under the shadows. I felt her pussy, luxurious, and I felt the warm, hot fluid spill from her pussy there didn’t seem anything odd about me touching her there like that and it felt quite pleasurable. It made me reflect on how Kelly had told me how when she laughs, sometimes piss comes out. When she told me that I didn’t think it was gross. It sounded cute, girlish to piss in one’s own pants. It made me want to fuck her hard and long. After feeling her piss, I was overcome with lust while I was fucking her when we got back late. It felt so good, holding on to her and ass and just taking her, driving her with my body. We had to use a condom – she’s entering her fertile period.
Fucking 4 times yesterday was great. I wish we could do it more. She has passed a few comments about how horny I am, such as: “Young man!” And “You have a strong physical appetite, I never met anyone like you. It shows in your eating too.”

November 27th, 1982
Long: 162° 34’
Lat: 19° 60’

I am laying now on my double bed. I have been off of watch for about an hour now. Boysie and Connie are now on watch. We have been at sea for little more than two days now. I love it out here – we just kept moving right along.
Today we caught a fish, which we haven’t identified. It was about 3½ feet long. It looked like it was part of barracuda, part swordfish, et cetera. There must have been about 10 or 12 pounds of meat that I carved off. It’s exciting to catch fish. I like these ocean fish because they’re large.
Wednesday, the day before we left, was a little weird. There seemed to be tension between Kelly and I in the morning, so I took off on the motorcycle by myself. I should have done shopping, but instead, I headed for Waikiki. I spotted two gorgeous girls walking down the street, one of them with her boyfriend. Captivated, I parked and lolled behind them for a quarter of a mile or so. The one with her boyfriend had a 10 ass, I swear. I figured I couldn’t think of anything to do about it, so I walked back to the bike and rode up to a beach in the direction from where I had come. I pulled up to the War Memorial Pool, a closed building, and then took a dive off the retainer wall, after looking for rocks.
On my way back, I noticed the girl with the boyfriend. I looked up on the beach for the other one, and saw her alone. I asked her if she she’d watch my stuff while I took a swim, and she said sure. I swam, and I came back and talked to her. The other girl was her younger sister. I talked with Sheri for an hour or so. It was getting late, so I got her phone number (which I never used) and split.
Her bathing suit was awesome. She was extremely tan. The front part of her suit had strings on either side leading to a little triangular patch, revealing traces of pubic hair.
It didn’t seem probable that I could fuck her tonight, so I never bothered to call her. Besides, Kelly and I had stuff to do.
Kelly and I went out in the evening. In the late afternoon, I received a package from Clymer. And it was a bag [of] A-1 Indica. The first thing Kelly and I did was to smoke a few bowls and talk out on the rocks by the yacht club.
I told her some of the nice thoughts I had been thinking of her in order to quell any doubts that may have arisen in her mind about the way I felt.
I must correct this story. The actual order of events was that we went shopping. Almost every store was closed, but we found a food market that was open. Kelly was loading AA batteries into a box, in order to stock up power for her cassette player, when the lights went off in the supermarket. She stuck the batteries in her pack. I put various items in my bag – suntan lotion, wine, batteries, cappuccino mix. The checkout stands operated by flashlight, adding by hand. Kelly got about $70 worth of “free” batteries, and I walked off with about $50 worth of goods.
Then we rode back to the club and then we sat on the rocks and smoked. Then, we rode out to the “Kitchen” to score some pot. We arranged a deal and Kelly bought an ounce for $130. I was going to buy the other ounce, but I said I wanted to hold out for “some real good stuff.” We are about to leave, when some obvious hoodlums approached us. The police were across the street, about five little two-seater vehicles lined up. Kelly was urging me to go. The hoodlum showed me a bag for $50 and it looked great. There were 7 big, hard – packed buds. I told the guys to wait down the street, and Kelly and I took off.
Kelly had convinced me to forget it, when, as we were driving away, we saw those guys again. I asked to smell it, and he broke off a bud. It smelled great. I told him I would give him $45, and he said okay.
Since we didn’t have change, he lowered his price to $35, I paid him, and then he gave me the bag. Kelly was sure something was wrong, so I dashed in a hotel, opened the bag and smelled it. It was phony! The buds were something like peat moss wrapped in nylon thread. They looked very real, but smelled like shit! I’ve been deceived!!
I felt like a real ass! I turned down what was probably A-1 Hawaiian bud for some phony pot. I felt like an idiot!
It turned out the police were out in force in order to handle a disturbance. There were all these guys with beat up faces and bloody clothes, with Marine haircuts, shouting at their friends, acting like Neanderthal animals of the most ignorant sort, there’d been a big fight. I think baseball bats had been involved.
Kelly and I try to score again, but to no avail. I went home, the personal quest for pot had been a failure this evening.
I felt bad also because I had intended a good portion of it for Clymer for being so with it, for helping me out so much. Fuck! It was our last night in Oahu!
Kelly didn’t want to fuck when we got back, which increased my woe.
I woke up grizzly on Thursday, with a determination to fuck Kelly before we sailed in the afternoon.
Everyone was off the boat to take showers, etc. I started making out with her, and backed her into her room, and I grabbed one of the condoms I just bought. She made a feeble protest about it not being the right time, but we fucked in a few minutes, and then got up and nonchalantly went about our business. I was happier.
We went to the 7-Eleven. I stole five packs of 35mm film at $4.35 each, to make up for the $35 loss of the night before. I’m just a bit ashamed.
We set sail in the afternoon, after a delay of a few hours because the gas dock was closed due to Thanksgiving. In the interim, I checked out a Katamaran that had come from Canada via Mexico, and talked with two chaps from England who were making their way around the globe, and looking for a sailboat to take them to the South Pacific.

~~~

Oahu looked beautiful in the distance. I saw the layout of the island much better with the perspective from sea during the day. The mountains of the northwest part of the island looked awesome, absolutely.
There was so much I failed to take care of in Oahu. I tried calling Gam at the last minute, but no lines were open. I never sent Clymer some buds. No letters were written, save to Norma. Never called Dad back. I never bought a guitar, etc., but, oh well, I had a great time there. Seeing new places is nearly always fun.

~~~

2324
I’m now finishing up the last hour on this watch. Beautiful out here! I’m very sleepy.
Left Oahu 2:30 pm Thanksgiving Thursday,

November 25th, 1982
Thursday passes. I think of other things (besides the ones I mentioned) that I didn’t get done. One thing is that I didn’t send a letter or talk to Mandy. She’ll probably forget about me anyway, but I would like to keep in touch anyway. She’s so beautiful. I would like to know her when I get back.
Friday. Thinking, last night I saw phosphorescence in the toilet. Thinking, I would like to fuck Kelly in the ass, since I can’t fuck her regular (she’s taking antibiotics).
I wake up feeling grizzly. I hear “fish”, and I come outside to see that Kelly has pulled in a mahi. I eat, trying to pick myself up, and it works. Yet, surpassing the food in providing a feeling of well being is Kelly saying that she misses me on watch. (The inevitable happened – Boysie put me and Joe on watch together). I miss her too. Last nights watch seemed interminably long.
I arrange with Kelly that I should come in after midnight when Brad (and she) are on watch. Kelly is assigned watch, but it is not mandatory that she stand it.
I came in after 1 am. After kissing and playing around for some time, I suggested putting my dick in her ass. She agreed. I put on a condom and we both put Vaseline on ourselves. I went slowly.
The condom busted. I asked her if she minded (if I came inside her). She didn’t mind. I came inside her. It was pretty neat.
I washed off.
At 3 am, I went on watch. Kelly came outside and sat with me, Joe was on the other side of the cockpit Kelly and I kissed and hugged for some time. She told me she was suffering – she had said this when we were doing it. But she didn’t mean she was in pain, but rather that she was horny, her cunt was horny. And she wanted my cock in it, but as I said before, that’s off-limits when she’s got the medicine in her.

~~~

Saturday. I slept until almost noon, and I stood watch.
In the evening, I went in Kelly’s room. We agreed to do the same thing, though she was a bit hesitant. Fucking her in the ass was fine and all, but I felt like I was hurting her, and tried not to pump too hard. She may have been enjoying it though.
When I came, it felt very strong. I imagined all my semen shooting up her poop-chute (or, as in more common spelling: poop shoot!). Excuse this regression. I wonder where it goes.
I washed off and urinated.
I’m went on watch. Kelly came out and sat with me. She went to bed at, I guess, about 4:30 am. I was dead tired.
When Kelly and I are around each other, we are usually touching one another, grabbing each other’s crotches or, if someone’s around, just brushing up against one another or playing. We are kissing a lot and always touching. I love that sort of stuff.

November 28th, 1982
Sunday 1530
Sitting watch.
Where more than half way to Johnston Island where, allegedly, the US government stores arms.
It is really pleasant today. It looks the same as the trip out to Hawaii. It’s really, really lovely. 360° water, and our home in the middle of it.
For the first time today, I feel good. In the morning, I got off watch at 9 am and slept until 12 noon. But I had to do chores, and I was very tired. Nothing is worse than having to work when you’re exhausted. I caught another 1½ hours or so of rest. Now I feel great. It often seems that fatigue is happiness’ worst enemy.
I think I’ve been catching Joe’s cold and or cough. But right now I don’t feel it. Maybe I kicked it. Maybe that’s what was making me feel blah this morning and perhaps that’s why I feel better now.
The motor generator is out of order. Joe found a metal chip inside it. That means no AC power for a while.

November 30th, 1982
Tuesday 114 in sight of Johnston Atoll

Yesterday was awesome. The right combo of work and play.
I had watch from 9 am to noon, then lunched, then did maintenance for two hours. Kelly was headed for a rest in her cabin; and I let her know I was going to try to come in at 3 pm. At about 3:10 pm. I was just ready to head for her cabin when a big mahi struck the line.
I took a few pictures of it and I cleaned it. It was neat looking.
At about 4 pm, I went to Kelly’s cabin. We didn’t have a whole lot of time. I slipped on a rubber, and we fucked for the first time in four days.
At 9 pm, when our watch was over, again I went in Kelly’s cabin. She had just put her medicine in, so we weren’t supposed to do it. I said I would only put it in a little way. After a while more of fucking around, she said, “let’s do it.”
I put it in only a little at first. It was ever so lusty. With her, this being an example, I get absolutely drunk with lust. I’m licking her mouth and holding her tight on the shoulders while I pump her, feeling rather dominant, as if I’m tasting her mouth, with her succumbing. We are fucking and sweat drips between us, our bodies sliding around each other. Coming was the height of lust. We both agree that we like it.
I went back to my bed at 10 pm, fell asleep for an hour and a half or so, and woke up terrifically horny again.
Sometime around 1:30 am, a tang busted off the spur (the pole) and the pole went smashing into the Hammett gear. Joe and I were topside in moments to assist Brad in handling the disturbance.
The morning I woke up (at 10:30 or so) to get a look at Johnson Island, an Atoll in the middle of the Pacific. We passed about 4 miles south of it. (US armory)
I asked to be hoisted up the mast. I took a few shots from up there. My sunglasses fell to their death as I was being lowered. One lens fell out and shattered.

December 2nd, 1982
0117 hours
(A)
Lat: 15° 28’
Long: 173° 5’

I just finished a self-prepared cup of coffee. I’m on the midnight to 3 am watch. Joe is resting over us on the opposite side of the cockpit.
I feel good. I got nearly 6 hours of sleep since dinner. Also, I got another nearly 6 hours from midnight last night until 6 am this (now yesterday, morning.) Sleep in very important to one’s sense of well-being. I’m still sort of fighting off a bit of a cold/cough (but it’s very slight and hardly bothers me).
Boysie’s proclamation that you repair your way around the ocean is certainly manifesting itself on this trip. The motor generator (brand-new) is still making a wrenching sound, so we’re not running it, thus we have no AC, or (wall socket) power. The refrigerator system is working. (Boysie spent nearly $500 on it in Oahu), but since it is not freezing, but only refrigerating, we are being compelled to eat all the perishable food earlier than planned.
As I think I’ve mentioned, the pole (which we used to “pull out” the jib) busted a tang, but it is still usable. This morning, Joe discovered that the staysail, which we had tied to the toe rail on the bow, and loosened between the ties, had fallen overboard (probably during an early-morning squall on Boysie’s watch), caught water, ballooned, and ripped and shredded, probably beyond repair. A few hours after this discovery, some of the lines attached to the pole caught under them main hatch and ripped upwards, breaking the fitting on the sliding trolley. (Joe and I went up to the handle this – the lines were slapping into my hand, like a small mallet. Joe said it made a hollow sound.)
Besides these breakdowns, these are scores of minor rips and repairs. I suppose it is to be expected.
The forces on a sailboat are great. I am developing a healthy respect for the fact that things can rip right off the deck or snap in an instant, gear that seemed like it would not bust.
I suppose that Boysie must be used to it, in any event, he takes these accidents with surprising complacency.
Surely, he at times becomes disgusted, and he often makes jokes of it all, but it never seems to push him too much out of shape. When Joe’s told him this morning about the staysail being ripped up, Boysie commented that it was a shame, it seemed, though, that he never lost stride over it, for after a few moments of discussion on it, he proceeded with entertaining stories the rest of the early morning, never mentioning it again. This behavior draws from my respect. When I consider how merely shattered I felt when I got burned for $35 in Oahu, I’m amazed at the insignificance of the loss. It is great, I think, when a person can lose something important to them, and take it calmly and reasonably.
Seeing Johnson Atoll yesterday was a trip. It seems so odd and out of place to be out in the middle of nowhere in the ocean and suddenly in the distance to see, seemingly right on the water, a square building, with rows of other rectangular structures around it, all stretching out for, perhaps, a mile or so.
By tomorrow, we should be halfway to Tarawa (Tear’-a-wa).
~~~

Things have been great with Kelly. It seems as if we are always sweet to each other. We seem constantly unable to keep our hands off each other and unable to keep from kissing one another. It is really marvelous.
It’s nice being in such close proximity. She is never more than 40 feet away while we’re at sea. We share much the same in musical tastes and other things – food, ideas, perhaps love.
She’s been very sweet to me since we got to sea. She gets me snacks to eat, and she helps me out in many small ways. Whereas back in Oahu, she once complained that her privacy was vanishing, she’s been entirely receptive to my visits to her cabin.
I told her that sometimes I couldn’t sleep, that, for example, sometimes, I wake up and think of her (and I get horny – sometimes unbearably) – she said, “You can come in here.” She also said, generally, that her room was public domain, except when she’s sleeping – this was said this afternoon when I was by there reading and listening to her music, laying down. It was the first time we were back there together lounging with the door open. Connie was coming by to login, and we were wondering if it was okay.
I think everyone on board has seen us kissing at least once. The only person who has commented (directly, at least that I have noticed) has been Brad. We’re not exactly certain of the coolness of our situation, but, as Kelly said, “Were both adults.”
Our last lovemaking experiences have been Tuesday night and Wednesday afternoon (it’s now almost 3 am Thursday). Tuesday, we had from about 6:30 pm to 9 pm [to] lounge around before my watch. We 69’d and then we made love, me using a condom. (I’m glad I bought those!) and we smoked pot and listened to music.
On Wednesday afternoon, we were together. Wednesday morning, we were in her cabin, me playing her portable, handheld video game Donkey Kong, and reading Plato. I decided I wanted the afternoon off without maintenance. I asked Boysie if I could do my maintenance “Now” (in the morning). He said to let the maintenance go for the day, that we only needed to do it in good weather. I went back in staying [in] Kelly’s cabin until lunch, just hanging out. We were wondering if Connie and Boysie minded me lying back there. After lunch, Kelly did the dishes. Eventually, she came back to her cabin. We kissed and lay together. We made love. I left for my watch. It was real nice.
Before I went to sleep shortly after 6 pm, we kissed, me leaning over the bulkhead in the galley. I said, “Thanks for everything today; you’ve been great,” and I meant it. She said, “So have you.”
She came up about 2:40 am on this watch. When Boysie and Connie came out, we went downstairs and made out in her room. It was luscious.
I love the constant touching, kissing, caressing. I hope everything goes well, her period comes, she goes on the pill successfully, and that this bliss continues. Wish we could fuck even more than we do. I wish I could fuck her three or four times a day, or maybe more.

December 7th, 1982
0909 hours
Lat: 7° 18’
Long: 178° 30’

Yesterday, we crossed the international dateline. We woke up on Sunday morning and went to bed on Monday night. This morning is Tuesday. Were a bit over 500 miles from Tarawa.
We are making an excellent passage. We are now in the doldrums belt, but cruising as if we were in the easterly trades. Doing 6 knots or so direct for Tarawa.
I haven’t written in four days or so. Things have been going smoothly, for the most part.
Boysie gave us a lecture on water consumption, because we found out that we had consumed an unusual amount of water. Also, he singled me out because the asphalt emulsion coating on the tank had not been sufficiently dried and was coming off in the water. Later that evening, when Boysie took over my watch, I said, “You know, Boysie, I was going to offer to buy some replacement emulsion, the first time you mentioned it. (I had left it on the dock at the Hawaii yacht club). Boysie, in an unusually warm way, said, “Don’t worry about it, my boy,” and gave my back a few pats. And I said, “Boysie, I’m sorry about the tank. I was certain that it was dried.” Again, he patted me on the back and said, “Don’t think another thing about it, my boy. One thing about me, I never hold a grudge. (Just remember, in the future, you’ve got to be extremely careful.) I know how to live with the crew.”
~~~

Kelly told me that she likes dominant men. She says that she has always ended up disrespecting her boyfriend, because she always ends up being dominant.
Is it not typical of womankind? And yet, they try to gain the upper hand.
I want no games of that sort, myself. I hope we can coexist in harmony.
We have been increasingly open about our relationship, but I hope not too much so.
I hope her period comes and that we can start doing it without condoms.
P.S. – No, I take that back, at this point, I want to be in control. Occasionally, Kelly gets flippant. I want to always be in control, to be able to monitor our relation. Well, now, I don’t mean I want to dictate, but I want to maintain my own sense of well-being at all times. I guess it is back to where I started – I want not to dominate, nor to be dominated.
It just makes me uncomfortable when she is rude or inconsiderate.
Fuck! I need a beer.

December 9th, 1982
0815 hours
Lat: 3° 21’
Long: 175° 51’

I am in heaven. Kelly and I are fucking up a storm. It’s really super. In addition, all the amenities onboard at my pleasure. Finally, I’ve got wine, beer, liquor and fine marijuana.
When I wrote my last entry, I was all keyed up. I don’t know what was wrong, but I felt something was.
Kelly and I are sitting on the settee. She says “Say: Anata-no o-man-ko na-mei-tai.” I say this and she expresses her delight in Japanese.
I began that morning thinking that I was going to Kelly too much, that I would prefer it the other way around, with her coming to me. You see, I can’t stand it when I make an approach to a girl, which is not gladly received. I decided that I would make a policy for myself: I would not seek her out, generally. I decided that I would just do my reading and writing and all else, and wait for her to come to me.
You see, it had gotten to the point that I was spending night and day devising plans and waiting for an opportunity to get her alone.
Shortly after I wrote the last entry, I was in the same state. I felt keyed up – perhaps I was sensing something the matter with my position on the crew – or could have been Kelly. Have you ever gotten yourself in a state where you feel strange, but you don’t know how to break out of it? Well, I have often. This time, I thought to myself, “I’ll do anything to make myself feel better.” So I went in Kelly’s cabin and let lit up a small pipe load. Kelly was in the head, adjacent to her cabin, and I couldn’t hold the smoke and, so I opened up the bathroom door, and I put my lips to hers and transferred the smoke to her lungs. When I pulled her in the cabin and shut the door. She said, “Guess what?” I said, “I know,” as I pulled her down to the bed. She said, “How do you know?” I answered, “Because I saw you in the bathroom.”
The message was that her period had come. We undressed and fucked, it was quick, and we went back to our business. By the time we finally went to sleep at night, we had fucked three more times, each time getting better.
I come to find out the message she taught me in Japanese means: “I want to eat your pussy.” We talked about this subject. Truth is, that I hadn’t been licking her pussy much, mainly because I had thought that she didn’t much like it. Turns out that she is practically insatiable in her desire to have her pussy eaten. I was delighted by this information, and I demonstrated my approbation and dedication to this idea by repeatedly going down on her, and licking the sweet juices of her pussy, concentrating on her clitoral area, which we jokingly nicknamed “the bean.”
The most exciting time, I think, was the last fuck of the day. I was standing the last watch of the night – Kelly was outside with me, kissing me and turning me on. When Boysie relieved my shift, I went to her cabin, where she lay sleeping on her stomach.
I put my face to her crotch, and licked around the sides of her pussy. (By the way, the thing about her period coming had been a false alarm. We are still waiting for the real thing to come.) I carefully pulled her panties down around her ankles and put my face to her crotch and caressed and kissed it. And she began to wake up, after 10 or 15 minutes, I started to fuck her from behind. It was exciting, the whole scene. We finished in the missionary position, and I went out to sleep in the main cabin.
I want to make a note on my erections. It seems that the only variable which truly affects the quality (and frequency) of my erections is frequency of sex. Let me give you a brief example. The first time we fucked Tuesday, my erection didn’t come immediately, but by the time we fucked the last time, even though it was late and I was stoned, and had been drinking wine, my erection was strong.
Wednesday morning we ended up in her cabin talking – now my erection was immediate and of quality – and on through Wednesday (yesterday) we fucked four times again on Wednesday. It seems the more we fuck, the quicker and harder are my erections, until, for example, on entering her room yesterday evening, upon the slightest provocation on comes the proverbial “raging hard-on.”
It seems a bit odd writing about such a subject nevertheless, just for the record, I again state, it seems to me that tiredness, stonedness, drunkenness or other such factors have no relation to my sexual performance. Performance improves with frequency, it seems. And, to end the note, frequent sex seems to promote facile erections.
Another note: there has been a definite change of tenor in our relationship since Kelly found out I would love to lick her pussy indefinitely, and, may I add, I found out that she loves to have her pussy licked. I suppose the point is that satisfaction on the part of both parties is conducive, if not essential to a happy, healthy sex life.
Now, I have had to add the most important.
On Tuesday, I also made the determination that I’m going to do everything I can to make Kelly happy, as long as it meets this criteria: that it is also the best thing for both of us. Essentially, reading Plato made me think that what is just is what is best for the whole, not the separate parts, her or I, but us. In keeping with this, I also intended to follow Plato (Socrates) in saying, basically, that if she wrongs me, or is rude to me, or things along this line, I will not retaliate. In short, two wrongs don’t make a right. Rather, I choose to go on about my business and to help her whenever I can, and make her life more pleasant.
Finally, I’m of the mind to be faithful to her while we are together. I’ve had so many relationships, and it seems plainly, that infidelity leads to trouble of all sorts. Following this reasoning, “what is best for us,” as best as I can tell, leads to the conclusion that clearly it is best if I do not pursue other women. I don’t want to lose what I’ve got now.
So, as I’ve said, our sex life is stupendous. Yesterday (Wednesday) we came into her cabin in the morning and fucked – it was delicious. I took a bath up topside. In the evening, I was reading in her cabin and when she came in we smoked pot. She jetted her head out the hatch, stargazing, with her body in the cabin. I lifted her skirt up and began kissing her pussy (omanko) then I came up to her level with my head out of the hatch and I put my dick inside of her. There we were, talking, under the sails, and the starlight, her head bobbing up and down. We didn’t stay there long, though, because it was a bit uncomfortable. We got below again, Kelly told me that Boysie had been standing by the mast and saw (or could have seen) the whole thing. We laughed.
In short, my days of late (part two) have been full of sex, smoking pot, eating, sailing, et cetera. Plato would be horrified. No abstinence on my part.
Kelly’s period has not come yet. She claims it’s late often. Today it’s 30 days. I am presently supremely happy. If her period comes, and everything remains the same, I say, I shall be infinitely happy. To be sure, Tuesday night, I was compelled to said Kelly: “I didn’t know I could feel so good.” – and I meant it.
In fact, I was thinking that if I had put out these days down as “10” days (on a scale of 1-10), what was I to call Tuesday? Well, Tuesday was a “10”, the other days were something less or, if the other days were “10s”, than today was something more. But, by definition, “10” is the most possible. Therefore, the other days were not in fact, “10s”. Yet at the time, they seem so. Well, perhaps this can be explained as follows.
Since, perhaps, I have no conception of the perfect day, and the worst day, I cannot record my image of the day accurately on an absolute scale. Rather, the scale must be flexible at the extremes. I can only estimate how a day fits on my scale by subjective emotions. If I have them of such a mind, I say, by God, today was a “10” day! And perhaps on the following day, I will go to a new height, and now declare that this is a “10” day. So, in this event, I will record it as a 10+ day, the “+” sign signifies a redefinition of 10. By the way, on the scale then, this new height does not negate the old “10” days. In essence, this scale is measuring the boundaries of my enjoyment, or, satisfaction. A scale such as this is a relative scale, not an absolute scale, since there is no universal agreement on what constitutes a perfect day. Inherently, such a scale embodies personal taste.
Among the things Kelly says to me or has said to me, are; “Da me su Cuerop” (Give me your body).
I walk in her cabin with only shorts on and she said: “You’re too sexy.”
Or the complements me on my kissing, but I say that it is her that is such a great kisser.
But I say to her: “Eres tan bueno, eres tan bueno.” (You’re so good, you’re so good.)
And such similar statements, encouragements, complements, and expressions of amazement, between us, from each to the other. This is really great.

~~~

You know, I reflect on something. The recollection of when I was a tot, probably the age of less than four. We were at Playland at the beach in the entrance to the place where they had the wood slides, which you rode down on potato sacks, were rotating turnstiles, which were an amusement. One had to walk among these, being pressed on all sides by each turnstile intern.
I recall trying to get through what to me was a maze. I recall a feeling of helplessness – I felt I didn’t know which way I had to go to get out of the maze; and the noise and the motion of the turnstiles, like threatening monsters, made me more confused.
Then a second recollection, that of returning to the spot some years hence, and seeing the turnstiles at a youth’s height, equal with them, as opposed to my first experience where they towered above me. From my new vantage point, I could see the layout of the turnstiles no longer were they threatening, no indeed, for now I could see above them, and count them, and clearly understand that, in reality, they pose no real danger, I perhaps laughed at my former fears. A total and utter sense of confusion and anxiety came through ignorance of the truth.
To me, it is an interesting thought, it in great likelihood, many (if not all) the times I get such a feeling, the answer is the same: so simple, there is no great problem, the apparition of threat melts away with understanding.

~~~

Yesterday, a school for porpoises went by the boat. If what they say is true, then there were hundreds of them. What I was told was that they swam to the boat and by it and off in front of it and onto the distance, so that, for the most part, they were new porpoises which continually swam up from the rear, checked us out, and went off, and not a school of 30 or so which kept up a charade of coming back in a wide circle so as to appear to be approaching from behind. And, why, I believe they were right. For it looked like they were coming from the rear and passing us, except for the occasional fellow who we could clearly see backtracking, giving us a double take: what is this strange creature? A Morgan my dear fellow!
The porpoises would occasionally come up for air, exposing their blowholes. They would swim on their sides (the greenish color, I was told, was its belly) to catch a good glimpse of us. They seem large, all between 5½ and 8½ or 9 feet long, my estimate, though I’m not at all sure. I’m inclined to say some were 10 feet or more, but I’m trying to make ample allowance for distorted perspective due to the water.
I guess they kept up this algorithm for perhaps one half hour. Figuring that every minute maybe 25 past us, it would seem quite a large school. I was told they often travel with schools of tuna underneath them, so perhaps there were tuna underneath.
You know, we have been passing through the doldrums, but have been writing quickly on northeast trades, so that it seems were not in the doldrums at all. But today, we experienced what Boysie described as true doldrums conditions.

December 11th, 1982
Tarawa, Gilbert
(A)(L)
1028 hours

Betio!
This trip is awesomely bitchin’!
First, a recap of Kelly and I.
Today is Saturday.
On Thursday, we had rain showers for a few hours. Kelly, I and the rest except Connie showered off in fresh water for the first time in two weeks minus one day.
Kelly and I went in her cabin afterwards. We were 69ing and she started licking my asshole, which prompted me to do the same. It was all very erotic and felt quite good. I would take my tongue and lick her whole crotch. (She was very clean.) Mmmm!
In the evening, I had 6-9 watch and 3-6 watch. After 9 pm, I snuck into her cabin. She was asleep. I licked her crotch, she lay on her stomach. I carefully pulled her panties down around her ankles. I mounted her from behind. It felt so wonderful fucking her while she lay there sleeping. I listened to her breathing, and whenever it sounded like she was waking. I slowed down or stopped altogether, until it sounded like she was unaware of me, and fast asleep. This whole experience was utter pleasure. Only right before I came did her ass start moving a bit in response.
It was the only time I ever fucked a girl in her sleep without her waking up. She said the next day that she found herself wet, and suspected, but that she had really slept through it. For me, it was fantastic.
Now, yesterday was truly fantastic.
In the afternoon, Kelly and I licked each other’s genitals for a long time, just on, then again. No, excuse me, my recollection failed. It was Thursday when we did that, which is what lead to analingus.
To start again, yesterday, Friday, I was resting in Kelly’s cabin. She was there, listening to music. We started fucking, with her on top. We fucked like that for a long time. And I got on top of her, and we fucked more, until I came.
We rounded that the north side of Tarawa Atoll around 5:30 or 6 pm. Everyone was on watch. Boysie was in the main cabin on the radar, Joe was forward-looking for reefs. Connie was watching the depth sounding and Brad was at the helm. I was at the main mast relaying messages between Brad and Joe.
At about 10 pm, after we had entered the lagoon through the now invisible reef, we anchored. He could see the lights of Betie a mile from us. Boysie brought out a new bottle of Southern Comfort. We pour drinks and added ice from the freezer (a luxury!)
Boysie said: “We’ve come to 2100… 2100… 4200 miles in six weeks, with an eight day stopover, in six weeks. Here’s to a great trip, and I wouldn’t want a better crew!” Everyone raised their paper cups as he raised his, and drank. I can say how happy his last sentence made me, because I felt proud to be a member of his crew.
We finished off the bottle, and Brad and Kelly made popcorn, and meanwhile, Boysie told war stories. It is refreshing, after an ocean passage I sat there, imagining my reality, to be here, at this time, on this boat, with people I admire, and the warm island breeze. Boysie’s war stories were interesting.
When we turned in for the night, I went topside and looked in at Kelly; she was making the bed and had me come down.
We lay there. I fucked her from behind (in her vagina). It felt fantastic. Things are so nice now, so relaxed, so intent; it, for me, is the perfect relationship. We fucked, finishing in the position we started in. For me, it was our most perfect fuck yet – my mind felt totally at ease and pure. We slept the night together.

MORNING
TARAWA. Oh, for me, the thrill of the morning. Kelly and I lay there. I started kissing her vagina. I was called topside to pull the anchor.
We moved in closer to shore, between a Gilbertese and a Japanese ship.
It is so beautiful here. In the water, toward shore, lie relics from the American attacks here in World War II, which eliminated the Japanese stronghold. The green water, murky from suspended choral bits, the palms lining the shore. I’ll, so beautiful!
Now, we’re pulled up to a copra dock, in a inner, main harbor. We appeared to be the only visiting yacht, which is a distinction I enjoy. We are waiting for the time when the officials, allow us to remove the quarantine flag.
I sit here, writing, listening to some music (Joe described as halfway between Greek and Indian music), Kelly in the galley, my love, in a dream. Kelly and I just smoked some Yamano in her cabin, and kissed and hugged.

December 12th, 1982
0915

Boysie and Connie just called me outside and thanked me for my willingness, my good attitude and my good nature. I in turn, told them how much I appreciated all they did, and I told them that I thought they were great. They really made me feel good. Boysie said that with all the things going wrong on a boat, that crewman in the past just plain (some of them) got in a bad mood. When they said I was good-natured, I said, “Really?” I was both surprised and pleased. Boysie said, in so many words, that it was a pleasure to have me as a crewmember.
(I try not to make so many mistakes in the future, okay?)
(Corpa Corpa Copesiundappa)

December 15th, 1982
circa 1900 hours leaving Tarawa Atoll

Interesting, interesting days.
Saturday we arrived. We sat on the boat until 4:10 pm. Causoona, the customs man, introduced me to David Wilder, the young Betio man with a tropical fish business, who had dive gear. This was prompted by the losing of the flopper-stopper. In the evening, Kelly took me to a restaurant where we met Peter. The three of us went to the dance, put on by the Gilbertese people who migrated to the Solomon Islands. The voices sounded brilliant.
Sunday, we could not find the buoy marking the spot for the flopper-stopper, so the anchor was lost as well.
You know, I stand corrected. Saturday evening I cruised on the bike by myself. Sunday, we went to the dancing.
Sunday afternoon was stupendous. Kelly and I spent it together at the sandbar on the east end of the island. We made love in the water. We took pictures of each other’s naked bodies, we laughed and talked. We made shell decorations on her pussy. The sunset was spectacular. We smoked a few joints during the afternoon. We spent considerable time gathering shells, discussing their suitability to our various purposes (pipes, necklaces) etc.

[Portion lost. –Editor]

–(as we finned over the reef) from a 3 foot deep sand covered bottom into 10 and 15 foot waters with Gallic trenches. I wonder if these holes were formed by bombs during the American invasion of this Japanese stronghold during World War II (quote “all I want to do is find a Japanese and spit in his mouth. Open it up and just let him have it”.) We climbed in the boat and donned tanks. From where the 10 or 15-foot waters had begun, ocean side of the boat now drop in a sliding shelf, down about 90 feet. The shelf dropped fairly quickly. After the initial shelf, it became more gradual. About 110 or 120 feet this began to be very steep again.
The divers I went with were catching, predominantly, flaming red angels all along the shelf below 50 feet. There, all along, were quarrels and fishes of many shapes and colors. It seems every fish has different markings – but this seemingly comes about because there exists so many different species in these waters. David tells me that there were more angel varieties here than anywhere else. The coral: the brain corals of fire red, plate like corals of green, brilliant white, and dark brown shaped like sticks with tubules on the side, coral like a windblown, leafless tree, blue coral like glazed pottery.
My tank was making a popping sound, and the water infiltrated by bubbles I surface, but my regulator is still drawing. I sit in the boat, talking to the Gilbertese boy, trying to get him to tell me if the tank is okay. He eventually switches tanks and I go back down. My tank is hissing. I dive to the bottom of the first shelf and go slowly along to the point where I think I am at 120 feet of water, since if the gradual slope from 90 feet turned unnoticeably to a steep gradient again, it must be; for when I look back, I noticed I am already at the beginning of the second shelf, going down quickly. I consider that I don’t it yet feel rapture of the deep, that I will turn around and avoid being daring – but I want to go to 200 feet, or beyond – this feeling will stay with me, I’m sure, until I do it (or die first). (I think, Jeff Clymer was always trying to convince me to go on a deep dive, but, now, I will counter with “Sure, Jeff, but let’s go to an island paradise to do it.” Black Coral.)
I return to the first shelf, the others are still rummaging in the rocks to find fish, I break off a piece of beautiful red brain coral, but it turns an ugly dull red brown at the surface.
I try to eke out as much air as I can in order that I don’t suffer much embarrassment again, as with my first tank that David took back in the water in use for 10 (or 15?) minutes. David comes up and tries to use my second tank. He resurfaces and says that when he got to the bottom, he couldn’t draw any more air.
~~~

The object is to enjoy each day as much as you possibly can.

December 15th, 1982
10 – 11 pm Conversation topic: success, clear knowledge of goal to be achieved (“lets have dialogues, not monologues.”)

i) In natural causes
ii) Impairment from other quarters (change of laws)
iii) Physical limitations
iv) Mental limitations (distinct from physical) (cosmic consciousness – a soul/God, a cosmic pool. Everything connected by atoms – thought produces waves proven by physics) or physical mind as computer, a tool to use as you like, like a muscle) (feeling feelings, feeling everybody feels the same thing) kinds of thoughts – (“You’re withdrawing because I didn’t support what you said,” “I’m glad you said that. You knew exactly what I was afraid of. It made me feel good.”) Does thought have physical power?

“People meditate to make your mind a blank.” “Why would anyone want to make up their mind a blank?”

~~~

I haven’t written any letters to speak of. I’m working, or I am off work, and I want to be exploring or, on the boat, reading, writing, whatnot. I want to send letters to Mandy, Norma, Lynne, Clymer, Taylor, Gam, Linda (to thank for motion mug), Mom, Eric Dunn, Cappa, on and on from there.

December 16th, 1982
20 to 5 pm
Now, lying nude in Kelly’s cabin, my new lava lava next to me, just finished waking up to a can of Orange Crush and freshly prepared “Kelly pot mix – 65% MJ, 35% cigarette tobacco, and taking a picture to capture Kelly lighting up to record on film what is a common sight here, after a wild lovemaking experience, following several of these since last night, and a sleep of an hour or so, I wrote, while in the background of sound is the motor generator with Peter Gabriel on tenor singing, hold on “and you face the night alone, while the builders with their cages, sleep with bullets, ¬¬¬¬¬¬______ and stones, they do not see your road to freedom, which you build with _____, _____ and _____.”

Last night while sitting watch, after a pre-watch excursion from Kelly’s cabin, through the hatch, motioning some miles from Tarawa, to the foredeck among a plaster board night of stars, floating, and the heavens of sea and sky, with a grass mat, gin and tonic, two speakers with cassette planning the Tom Tom Club and to 2 pandannres – leave – wrapped cigarettes, with a suspected feeling of African twist tobacco, a pack of juicy fruit gum, and a bit of Cadbury dairy milk chocolate, beginning at first to kiss and make love but cut it short, because Brad may be watching, we decided to “have a continuous party from Tarawa to Honolulu, whenever possible,” and shaking baby fingers over this, we put, after this, Kelly to bed with what we had failed to consummate earlier, the first time we made it on watch.

7:35 pm

“Joe, can I ask you a weird question? When you think, do you think in English or pictures, or some other thing or a number of different ways?”
“When I’m being analytical, I think in English, I converse with myself English, I suppose.”

circa 8 PM nearing the equator (approximately 17° E Longitude.)

There are, possibly, many things I should be doing – for example, exercising to keep my upper body in shape. Another idea I had was to take an hour a side each day and do nothing more than think. What is this though, should I choose a topic? Should I choose a general theme for all thinking sessions? No, Dear Reader, I have been influenced by reading Plato. All of a sudden, thought processes for their own sake have become, in my monitoring side of my perceptions, a legitimate activity.
Since we left Tarawa, there has been a noticeable change in scenery of environment. Presently, we are four something miles from the crater. Whereas before, the wind blew constantly, and escorted us along at 5 – 6 – 7 knots, now we do a constant 2 ½ knots under sail (which is why we are motoring). The clouds have become individualists, no longer choosing to group together in a threatening squall line, but now dot the sky in a fashion such as would undoubtedly look like a regular pattern from a high altitude craft. The sea has calmed (due to calmed wind and current) down to gentleness, no longer these gradual hills of water passing yieldingly beneath the boat. The weather is now truly balmy in the absence of wind. My wardrobe is to testify for me in this matter, as it is 8:30 pm and dark, and I wrote (by flashlight), perfectly comfortable in my shorts, gym shorts, with white underwear under them.

Time: 9:31.55 pm
Long: 171° 21.3 E.
Lat: 0.00.00

Crossing the Equator

Boysie, next morning, dressed up as King Neptune. He brought us all up on charges. My crime was impersonating a seaman! Brad’s was claiming to be a navigator, when in reality he had a black box downstairs (that Sat Nav) which was his brain. Kelly was charged with serving “slum”, while down in the galley, she ate ice cream and caviar. Joe was charged with hiding out in the “cool” engine room (usually, when something is running, it’s about 100° in their) while the rest of suffered in the sweltering heat up topside.
In turn, he officially initiated us into the ranks of the Shellbacks, with freedom of the sea, with the provision that we undergo the following prescribed punishments (which we did): Kelly had to drink a “horrible concoction” (vodka), Brad had to drink “Hemlock” (coffee, which Brad hates). I had to drink a jigger of mahi-mahi blood (tomato juice, water and Tabasco sauce) and Joe had to finish Boysie’s bottle of Canadian Club and then write a note, put it in a bottle and toss it in the sea.
~~~

December 18th, 1982
1530
Lat: 2° 4’ S
Long: 169° 26’ E

Yesterday, we stopped the boat to go swimming in the late afternoon. I put on my diving mask and went overboard. Mind that we are in the proverbial middle of the ocean. I swam away from the boat, noticing a small jellyfish–like creature floating a few feet below the surface. About 40 or 50 feet from the boat, I watched as Kelly dove into the water. It looks surreal, every detail visible, the water immaculately clear, the boat hovering in the background.

December 21st, 1982
Lat: 6° 14.62’ S
Long: 166° 17.92’ E

I wish I were a better writer.
What makes a good writer? Boysie says you either have it or you don’t. I suppose that if you have it, you must have to work at it to be good: does one have to work at it to discover if one has it?
Reading up on Papua New Guinea and the South Pacific handbook excites me and makes me want to work at developing plans towards mining this opportunity for all it is worth.
I must admit, lately, I have been thinking about the possibility of becoming a famous recording artist and musician and celebrity. It seems like I would be “starting” so late. I balk at the notion that I might not be able to discipline myself.
I would be so much different than the past.
So much hard work – I would have to change my habits.
And, for the first time in my life, dedicate myself to a track, that, to be reasonable, I can only expect it would be more a drain than a provider of resources.
But, for the love of the adventure with in which music takes me on an acknowledgment of the discipline duly required for the reward of potential greatness, may have to be made, and acted upon.
~~~

Boysie has banned reading on watches with the closing comment.
“As (so and so) said to his crew, if, you really have to read, call me, and I’ll stand your watch.”
But, I know it will be a thing for my own good. I don’t say that as a fanatical follower, I say that for, well for you: I never really covered much ground on watch, there was always an intervention of some type.
I am adaptable, so I seem. Conversations should increase other things will take the pace of reading. One thing is that I have wanted to think for one hour a day, just sit and think. The watch is an opportunity to do so.
Another thing currently on my mind is memory. Plato seemed to put a good deal of importance on memory. It occurred to me that I had some of the qualities of his philosopher – king type: a background in gymnastic (my sports background, running, adventuring) and in music (my education, my music as well). He place importance in number – (my background in mathematics) but I felt I lacked mostly in my memory capacity – I don’t consider my memory remarkable.
So let us think, if I improve my memory, what will it benefit me? What am I striking toward? Are all dreams of grandeur of my recent past dissipated? Or do I still foolishly hold on to the possibilities of becoming what would be a social phenomena?
~~~

In keeping with improved memory is improved listening. In fact, more attentive listening makes for a more stimulating and worthwhile conversation.

~~~

I suppose that I could write about the people on the boat and the relationships and so on, but I don’t think I would do the interactions justice. I have described Kelly and I in depth more than the others. This reminds me of an interesting piece of data.
Kelly tells me of her feelings about the time we first got together. I was notably impressed that the things I was trying to effect in her were one and the same with what she told me, though at the time, I didn’t consider this possibility. An example is that she said that after I asked her: “Would you like to do it to me?” She came to the conclusion that it would be stupid not to. She thought “Why not?”
I ask Kelly to put it in her own words. When she refers to the initial put down she is referring to her reply “not particularly.”
Okay, after the initial put down I started to think about my negativity: where it came from etc. The conclusions I drew from my practical feminine logic were what a waste to turn down such a luscious chance, besides the fates could take it as an affront and who needs their wrath. K.S
An apt reply, Kelly, thus proving to me that what I thought she said and what she said are two, perhaps, different things. Anyway, when I asked her, I thought that it would be stupid of her not to, or, so it could have been put (my thought).
~~~

December 23rd, 1982
1145
The days fade in one to the other, the watch system helps this. My watch yesterday was always 3 hours behind today’s watch.
The travel in this part of the world is slow – apparently the southwest winds we have never happen here. It just so happens that we, too, are on a southwest course for our destination. Thus, we are classed – hauled, heading, unbelievably, to within 30 degree of the wind.
How trite it must be for sailors to say, ‘You just can’t capture this on picture or, there’s no way to describe this to your friends,’ because we have, alone the six of us, said it many thousands of times already.
I now play a new writing game. I look in the dictionary and find a word and write about the subject, which this word brings to mind.
Fidelity: I wonder if Kelly worries at all about fidelity to Hymie, or her husband, Hokido.

3:40 pm
The cabins can get to the point of being stifling. The temperature usually runs about 89 degrees and humidity seems high. When rains come, we are compelled to lower our hatches, thereby cutting off natural ventilation. The engine room being adjacent to the main cabin causes even greater heat. Since Tarawa, we have been running the engine many hours a day. Our 5” G.E. fan helps out a little compared to many sail craft, this is a luxury affair, with refrigeration and running water.
As I was told by Boysie would happen, watches are normally stood attired only in shorts.
Laziness over comes me. Sometimes it seems that I get no real sleep. I’ll toss and turn when I lay down, never really getting full respite until my body is so tired, it will sleep, comfort or no.
I reflect that in a few days. God, willing; does he really care now, Jeff? – no, maybe not – but I couldn’t let that one go), we will arrive in the South Pacific Island group of the Soloman’s. This will mark the end of a basic Pacific Ocean passage, and the beginning of cruising shot runs of between 50 and 250 miles in and about the Solomons and Papua New Guinea for the next couple of months.

~~~

At time, I just sit back or stand and view a scene, shutting off my internal dialogue, trying my best to view the scene without recognizing it – the reason for trying to recognize things is because it calls up preconditioned images, feelings, attitudes which interfere with perceiving a scene the way it really is – of course, “really is” may forever go without a universally accepted definition. What I mean, I suppose, is the way our perceptions are basically designed to perceive. Thus, with sight, you just open your eyes and view focusing in the center of your visual screen and then observing all points simultaneously letting go of your central focus. If you condition your mind not to make associations, the scene becomes beautifully foreign, reality in a higher form. Movement is alive, history being formed every moment. As Ray Bradbury said of children playing: the realization that the scene will never happen again. (Kelly just put on a tape. As Joe says, I don’t know if I should eat that music or dance to it.)
I recall doing this when I was talking to Joe the other day on watch. He sat across the conflict propounding on a subject that I had turned off (actually I had started the conversation). I viewed him sitting in the cockpit wrap around sunglasses (one-piece, not folders) chatting against a backdrop of blue and cloud, sun streaming against his tan body: now, if I view him as he appears, not as Joe Martinez, I see a creature, speaking an unintelligible language, in a dramatic setting. The images it exhorts are of the fantastic.
Kelly was the first intimate friend I made on this boat. You know, Kelly in Faaaaaaarout! She could be pregnant, she is being totally cool about it. She missed her period. I said I wanted to help. (“Do you want to help? Learn how to change diapers.”)
I want/wanted Joe to become a good friend. Why? Why not!

Of conversations with Boysie:
A good history of England from 1660-1670 – Samuel Pepy’s History of England – a diary of a man who personally witnessed events of interest in that period.
Adiabatic lapse rate: rate at which air cools – 3 degrees per thousand feet of elevation. In the updrafts of forming clouds, 5 degrees per 100 until the condensation level or dew point, resuming the 3 degree rate from there upwards.
William and Ariel Durant’s History of the American West.
Gibbon’s The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire.
Opinions:
Says that the people of a democratic state clamor that the President does things that only a dictator can do. Says people will have law and order no matter what the cost in terms of freedom – even if it means having a dictator… that past dictations studied previous dictators… that the atom bomb will be used… that Adolph Hitler was a brilliant leader – you can judge a leader by his following – “of course it’s impossible that that sort of thing could happen in a civilized country like America – the Germans are/were one of the most civilized of people.”… that speed reading is non-reading. He reads no novels – he’s read, “most of the classics” – prefers factual books, mainly historical books, that the problem with democracy (so he says another say) is that it assumes that people are equal. When the superior/aggressive ones gain the wealth, some one has got to devise a way to take it from them.

December 25th, 1982
Christmas
Lat: 9° 19.77’s
Long: 162° 1.55E
1630 hours

As Ulawa, an island of the Soloman’s group, the first South Pacific island I’ve ever seen, stands off the port bow about 40° and Malarta, the most populated of this group, lies slightly off to the right of the bow, I feel an elation of having come so far and having come as I have and an excitement of the wondering sort at imaginary adventures in my near future, the fires promulgated and prompted by the South Pacific handbook, which details certain fascinating facts about head hunters, shark worship, stone age people, birds of paradise and tribes people 9 (such as the Kukukuku – pronounced Cooker Cocker.) who are “entirely unpredictable,” it is Christmas, 1982, which has been a day of relief from the tiredness and only below 5 day of the trip, yesterday, begun with Kelly and I making it, and this afternoon making it again then smoking and reading the South Pacific handbook, a pleasant and fascinating day, a revival of the wondrous frame of mind which has been mine so much the greater portion of the voyage, a guy feeling of “bitchinness,” and I expect this sensation to continue into the twilight.
Kelly loves to give head, suck my love thing – my Luv Thang – Momma! – which is why, Kelly if you’re reading this – I love her so much. She is wondrous as well as me. And Mandy is wondrous for having boosted my ego 1000% by being so beautiful and kissing me and allowing my hands to forage into her bra.
Boysie put it so aptly when he expressed humorously how fraudulent are the Mountain men who describe the transcendental, mind altering, ‘all-bitchin’ experiences of the universe while in the mountains – and I think that I must be a fraud to claim that an ocean voyage by moonlight and sail has transformed – my entire personality – my very being! Yet into a free spirit of the wondrous world, transmuted from a base metal to a precious, through the alchemy of Neptune’s realm.

December 26th, 1982
Indispensable Straits
Soloman Islands

I was just reflecting. We have come in a craft which was built with the tools that are a by-product of our industrial civilization, and we have arrived in the old world – not the world of a few hundred years ago, but a Stone Age World, where people still live primitively, which cultures centered around Gods and tribal rites, with festivities carried out by people in real attire, bark masks of wood or mud and decorations of birds of paradise and colorings. A whole new world has opened up to me just from a traveling standpoint, through sailing. The charts and sailing directions are a wealth of information with villages shown, accessible only by boat. I look at the chart showing the South end of Geralcanal, lined with settlements: Veramakuru, ambanakolos Nako on the Sambakalava river, Veramogo, Ralavu. I long to visit these tribes I assume live in each place – Boysie says that, in each place, the people probably speak a language entirely apart from the tribe next door, in essence, a separate nation.

December 28th, 1982
12:25 pm

Yesterday at 10 am we anchored at Honiara, we having just come up to the coast a few miles from the anchorage of the night before, just east of Koli Pt. Brilliant blue: the blues, the puffy white clouds and clouds of slate (a dark, blue gray rock that splits into smooth layers) – blue. Everything melts together, and at once every grain in the scene is distinct and alive. A painter’s pallet full of greens hues the trees on the coast. That cloud hovering over Savo Island some 22 miles distant: I try to calculate its height: I take chart in hand – Savo is 22 miles away. I look in Boweditch; at 22 miles, 370 feet of the island is hidden. If the top of Savo Peak is 1673 feet above sea level, then the height of the island showing amounts to about 1300 feet. I assume the curvature of the earth amounts to negligible difference between the vertical sight perpendicular and the tangent to the earths center. The top of the cloud is maybe 4 island heights above the water, or about 5200 feet. I am surprised because I had the impression from Boysie that clouds that look like that were 20,000 feet in the air.

December 29th, 1982 1122

My first duty is to my own bobness. I can’t account for whether or not other people are bob. For example, if someone else yells at me or says strange things to me, I cannot account for their misbehavior – and my first duty is to be on guard for my own actions, to preserve my bobness. Bobness shall we say, is a state of grace, a state where one feels good or great or feels strength in combating ills – a godly air, a surveyor of kingdoms, the trace of all these things. There are varying degrees of bobness – people can be bob but ordinary. But, back to the main point, maintaining integrity is maintaining one’s own sense of bobness. If I allow myself to react to another’s misbehavior, I run the risk of losing my presence of mind and my ability to perceive a situation at optimal clearness (my best clarity) and to act in such a way to maintain equilibrium and thrust.