Cole Tyler

I can’t call and I think I’d rather write so here goes . . .

From the journal that Tierney first gave me in Hermosa Beach to the blackberry I bought two weeks ago, I have written a lot about my experiences and my feelings on this journey. My posts haven’t really been directed at anyone in particular, but hopefully anyone who reads them can follow along on my journey, and maybe even be inspired to follow their own dream.  But this letter is different.  I needed to write this letter just for you –

 

 

It took only two weeks around you and I was absolutely sure you were the one. You made me smile. You made me laugh. You comforted my soul.

 

Lying here on my cot, I can embrace for the first time the fact that I am in love. Sure, there will be typical ups and downs that any relationship goes through. But I feel that you and I grew up together. I don’t know much other than football and sailing, but I do know that I love you…and I think you love me.

 

As I’m on the verge of sailing around the famous Cape Horn, I can’t help

but think about you and what I’m going to do and say when we arrive back on

land.

 

Knowing these few days will be the most dangerous of our trek, I understand I may not make it back to say these words. So, if I don’t make it, I hope that this journal makes its way back to Dalton, back to my friends and family who can do me the honor of reading this journal to you. Whether it’s Connor, Jackson, Brady, or some random passerby, I ask that it be read slowly… and read passionately. Practice it if you have to (jk)…But speak to her, talk to her, and comfort her as you read.

 

During my entire life, I can’t think of one thing that I have asked for; one thing I just had to have.

 

On the verge of this great triumph, I find myself only wanting one thing… to see your smile one more time.

 

Oh, how I can picture it.

 

But it isn’t just the smile; it’s what comes with it.

 

From the loud laugh about to occur and the immediate reaction of your hands as they go directly to your mouth…to how your hair moves just a little when you smile. Oh, if I was there right now, I’d get you to smile…

 

…Remember what you asked me before I left?

 

I didn’t know how to answer you then, but I’ve thought about it every day since. And I wish it was as simple as ‘yes’ or ‘no.’

 

But I did find out the answer on this voyage. I finally know.

 

I know that I want you to join me on a greater journey, a longer journey, a shared journey.

 

We’ll see each other soon and when we do, I only ask you for one thing; to see your smile.

 

Love Always,

 

Cole

 

 

So I leaned against a man-made stone wall and slid down until I was seated. As I was sitting on the relatively cold stone I could hear the Incan culture. As I aimlessly watched the wild llamas graze, I could sense the 2,000 Checian’s working.  And as I watched the crew explore the different rooms, various paths, and forward thinking architecture they looked like little kids.

That is also when Maya came over to me.

She sat beside me for what seemed like an hour without saying a word. Confused I finally broke the silence. “How are you?”  Still, nothing.

Another ten minutes passed and she reached over, grabbed my journal and opened it.

“Why do you write in this so often?” she asked. And after trying to play her game and not say a word she hit me with the journal and we broke into laughter.

Still, her question remained of why I write in my journal.

So like our boy Tom Cruise in Risky Business I said “What the fuck” and told her. I told Maya that the journal is a story for my family about my travels around the Cape.

Maya then asked what I write. My response, which I hope you can feel in this blog as it is my journal on a computer, is that I write what I feel and what I think the crew is feeling. Essentially, if I write my emotions down my parents and others may be able to connect with my voyages.

She then opened the journal to its first page where it reads, “If found please return to William and Devorah Tyler” along with our address underneath.  After all that we’ve been through over the past couple of days, I think we both felt the significance of that statement.  And I know that I was grateful to share that moment with her.

All in all, a great week as the Inca Trail and city of Machu Picchu allowed for us to become lost and eventually, found in 4 days.

We walked to her beachfront hotel another quarter-mile away, both of us staring at the ocean and both of us sobering up from the one too many shots of grand marnier provided by that bartender, Jaycen. It was around 3:00 AM. 

 

We stopped in front of her hotel and I gave myself a good ‘ol pep talk as she was about to walk out of my life forever. So, like Tom Cruise in Risky Business, I said “what the fuck” and poured my heart out to her. Not sure why I told Maya everything, but I had to get it off my chest and I figured that the likelihood of seeing her again was slim to none.  We both have flights booked to two very different parts of the world.

 

To paraphrase, I told her that when I booked this trip, it was as though I was on some drug. Like the power of the Cape was urging me to it. That by experiencing the majesty of the Cape, I would be able to change the world because the stories I would tell would urge others to tap into their imaginations, be curious, and wonder why . . . and why not.

 

As I told her, my eyes actually began to water as I held my journal, the one Tierney gave me in Hermosa Beach, and spoke about this blog, my writing, Adelaide, and this journey.

 

I told her how I booked this trip because it was my dream since I was a child, ever since my grandfather first spoke to me about its power. I have read about it, wrote about it, and dreamt about it for years and now that I’m here, it’s like, ‘what am I thinking?!?’

 

I mean look at me! I’m just another number, just another person in this over-populated world. I had this vision of changing others and I can’t even take care of myself. I can’t even take care of an 8-year old boy!

 

After my rant Maya looked toward the dimly lit parking lot adjacent to her hotel and she pointed to the kids kicking a soccer ball and asked me to take a look at them.

 

“Cole, those kids wake up every day to this city, to poverty. They don’t know any different. Yet look at them. They still play. They still dream. They still imagine. But their dreams, their imaginations, have limitations, restrictions.”

 

“They don’t get to go on family vacations and see the places you’ve seen. Their minds don’t even allow for them to dream of the places that you’ve lived because they can’t fathom them. If you bail on this trip, if you turn around and go back to where it’s easy, where it’s normal, to where you’re supposed to be…well, then you’re not only a coward, but you’re a phony.”

 

“And everything you’ve ever written in that brown journal is bullshit. And that’d make you just like everyone else and I don’t think that’s you. You’re different Cole. You’re unique.”

Maya then clasped my hands and as her eyes watered so did mine. “Cole, you talk about living the dream. Well, you’re halfway there…what would your grandfather want you to do?”

 

And as I turned toward the ocean to attempt to rid that crater size lump in my throat that was forcing water in my tear ducts, Maya took out her pen, wrote her information on a page in my journal, and said, “Why don’t you meet me in Machu Picchu?”

As the sun began to rise at our backs on that morning Maya gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and then flashed that striking smile once more before she turned and walked toward her hotel.

And yes, after about 15 meters she turned and looked back… and smiled.

And yes, after about 15 seconds after that I looked forward…and toward Cape Horn…and smiled.

 

More later.  Lots to think about.

 

Cole

 

 

 

 

 

 

I sat on the beach today after a little surf session and still couldn’t get that Obama speech out of my head. So I wrote in the journal that Tierney gave me. It’s a relatively long first entry, but kind of fitting and I thought I’d share it with you …

 

Today was the most important day of my life.

For 17 minutes, in an internet café I spent the most profound 17 minutes of my life on youtube.

And January 20, 2009 will mark the most humble day our nation has met in decades.

 

While I was on the Pacific Ocean a few nights ago, Barack Hussein Obama won the 2008 Presidential Election. And he did it in a landslide.

 

Sitting in a remote internet café today I, like many others, welled up with pride as I watched him speak ever so eloquently and accept his nomination ever so graciously.

 

But most importantly, as President-Elect Obama embraced the honor bestowed upon him, I, for the first time, found someone other than my family to call my idol, my hero.

 

As a child, teenager, and now young adult I looked up to people like Jordan, Rice, and Montana. But I always had an affinity for the stars of history’s past.

 

Bobby Kennedy, Che Guevara, John Lennon, and of course Martin Luther King Jr. were on that short list because of one reason, their profound impact on society. They truly changed and influenced society in a fashion that was deemed impossible, improbable, and ultimately dangerous. Their thoughts, ideals, and principles were so impactful that they actually led naysayer’s to take their lives. And while those criminals ultimately made their mark in bloodshed, they also promoted a message heard round the world for decades.

 

That message; Change Is Possible.

 

Bobby, Che, John, and MLK stood on very different platforms on various social, political, and financial issues but they shared the stage when it came to common values regarding the human race. The values such as opportunity, curiosity, independence, and most importantly love led their respective movements. And they led those fearlessly, ferociously, and always humbly.

 

You see, to be great, to be truly great, one has to be willing to risk their public persona because they cannot let go of their independence no matter what. Each one of the aforementioned agents of change never forgot who they were, what they stood for, and where they were going.

 

While Obama’s rhetoric was quite powerful it too was full of grace. In fact, it was what he did not say that hit me the hardest.

 

After his speech, he stood on stage next to his Vice-President Joe Biden. While Biden could only smile from ear to ear, Obama waved to the crowd as though he was in the ‘zone’ that only an athlete would know. He stood upon that stage as if to say, “I knew this night would happen and I belong here.” I watched him move about the stage gazing into the crowd and understood what it meant to be humble, honorable, and a world leader. And I watched him with a pride that was uncommon to my soul.

 

Today, Generation X was provided someone to look up to and admire while feeling comfortable enough to stand up for one’s personal beliefs whether they be regarding health care, gay marriage, or the BCS system.

 

For 17 minutes on youtube, in an internet café, Barack Hussein Obama stepped into a light that those before him have lit with dignity and poise.

 

And on January 20, 2009, Barack Hussein Obama will do what no one thought he would and what others dreamt he should. He will become our next President; he will re-energize the world’s perception of America, and will have proved that if one thing is a must in life, it is to never lose the ability to dream.

 

As we embark on this trip along the Pacific, Barrack Hussein Obama will become the Commander in Chief of the United States of America. He will change, impact and challenge society all over again from his newfound seat in the White House. And on our small sailboat, we will inspire, learn, and gain a greater understanding of culture as we sail around Cabos de Hornos.

 

So, while we sail and Obama leads I will promise all of you one thing…I will go for it on this trip, learn about other cultures, and throughout it all, just be myself.

 

Barack Hussein Obama, I thank you. I support you.  And in a weird universal way…my soul has learned a great deal from you.

 

God bless,

 

Cole

 Sorry if there are misspellings as this is somewhat new to me.

 

But as I was leaving the hostel this morning for the final time Tierney was entering. As we met he asked me where I was going and I told him that my boat was indeed elaving in a few hours. He asked me to wait for a minute as he raced upstairs. When he returned, he not only smelled worse than when he left me, but he presented me with a brown journal as a gift. He told me it was for my adventures and that I had a duty to all travelers to write my experiences. So while I will be blogging to all of you, I will also be writing my experiences in this journal — thanks, Tierney– as I don’t plan on walking around South America withh a laptop in my arm.

 

Cheers,

 

Cole

 

 

P.S. Thought I’d share what Tierney inscribed in the journal…

 

Mate, good luck and remember what your father told you, “To thine own self be true.”

I’ll have a brew waiting for ya in OZ.

 

Cheers,

 

Tierney (the best roommate you ever had)

New Brown Journal

 

Redondo marina