Cole Tyler

I’ve been reflecting on this trip for the past few days and there are so many thoughts going through my mind. From when I wasn’t much more than a nuisance and the crew didn’t accept me to when Captain Carbajal finally approved of me in Columbia. This entire trek has been memorable to say the least.

 

The only regret I have is that we had to go through some tough times to get here, in particular Diego. I’m not sure if that will ever leave my soul, but I kind of don’t want it to.

 

We’re on the precipice of rounding the Horn and I can’t help but think back to being 8 years old and seeing my grandfather’s journal for the first time and formulating this dream. It’s funny, but I can even recall when I learned that once a sailor rounded the Horn he was able to place his elbows on the dinner table.

 

I can also remember the day that I left and by “left” I don’t just mean left home. I left my family, my friends, my life, and Adelaide.

 

I wish she understood why I was leaving at the time, but to be honest, I’m not even sure I understood why I was leaving.

 

You see, I have always wanted to change others, change someone’s life in one fashion or another and I initially thought this trip would allow that to happen. But in reality, the life that’s truly changed on this voyage has been mine.

 

Off to the deck,

 

Cole

 

Lot’s of good questions from bloggers so I wanted to say thanks and respond. I guess the most commonly asked question is why I’m going on this trip.

 

Why I did this trip? That is simple. I did it because I had a dream and I had to live it. No magic solution or great discussion from a prophet. Just a dream and a desire to go for it.

 

With that had to be some organization and planning. Thus, ever since the seventh grade I’ve been saving half of every check. Whether it was washing dishes every Sunday at JJ’s for $30 or being a bat boy for the local farm baseball club for $14, half went to my dream. As I got older I saved more cash and this past year I knew that I finally had enough money to survive for a few months around the world. And c’mon, it’s not like things are very expensive on the Pacific Ocean!

 

I also studied the ocean. Whether it was a tide chart, a map, or a sailor’s personal journey, I felt that I needed to learn about it. And while I anally planned and prepped for this trip, the underlying reason I’m heading for Cape Horn is because of what happened almost 20 years ago.

 

You see, when I was 8 I can remember sitting at the top of our stairs one November night. I did not know what happened, but knew that grandpa was sick. That night, around 9:00 PM, my Mom and Dad came home from visiting him at the hospital.

 

As I peered through the poles at the top of the stairwell I can remember both of my folks walking in soaking wet from the rain. Dad was visibly upset as Mom hugged him and took his black overcoat. I watched him and I swear the world was on his shoulders as he walked into our living room to his chair. It was there where he sat for an hour, without moving.

 

I too couldn’t move a muscle, but wondered what was going on. So, like any eight-year old, I became curious and snuck downstairs. I walked up to Dad’s chair and tapped him on his knee. As he turned to me I saw, for the first time in my life, tears in his eyes. He was crying.

 

And as if it was yesterday I can remember him saying, “You grandfather passed away tonight son.”

 

He then picked me up onto his lap and we just sat there together. But while I sat there I noticed that he had that old, worn brown journal with him that read “The Hesperus.” I knew that book well, as my grandfather would read stories to me about sailing adventures from it before bedtime.  

 

When I awoke the following morning, my life was changed forever. As I rolled over onto crumpled up Sports Illustrated for Kids and Curious George books I noticed that something was leaning against my nightstand…it was “The Hesperus.”

 

For months I couldn’t put it down. Reading and re-reading I was continually captured by this real life adventure. And while I couldn’t comprehend most of the verbiage I would just make it up on my own. Thus, the adventure of “The Hesperus” around Cape Horn never got old, in fact, it only got better.

 

So when some of you reading this blog asked me why I’m going on this trip I guess I can’t give you a straight up answer. I guess the reason I’m going on this trip is because…well, because I have to.

 

Cole

So yesterday was a waste but I’m getting after it today. Just went for a run on the beach and am heading to the docks to find Captain Carbajal. Not sure if I explained it well or not, but he met my grandfather in 1950 and sailed around Cape Horn with him. His story is a legend to me. Just reading about him from my grandfather’s journal has painted a picture of a heroic man, so meeting him will be awesome.

 

Interestingly, I’ve tried to get ahold of him quite a few times in the past year as I started thinking about this trip, but never heard back – not even after I told him that my grandfather passed away…

 

Anyway, heading to the docks.

 

Cole

 

As I sat by the docks today watching all of the local kids run around the playground across the street, I couldn’t help but be reminded of what life was like back then. Watching those kids run around, swing from monkey bar to monkey bar and play tag as though their lives depended on it hit me square in the face. Those kids, at age 8, had life figured out!

 

They were living moment to moment and not worrying about their futures, their past decisions, or as my Dad so eloquently puts it, ‘A 5-year plan.’ Rather, these kids, these pre-pubescent kids were living each moment as if their lives depended on it. They lived each moment for that moment. They lived life as though it was simple.

 

And it was then, when for the first time since Connor, Jackson, Brady, and I ran around that same playground years ago, that a sense of peace came over me.

 

But that sense of peace lasted all of about 5 minutes until Adelaide showed up. I must be honest, I really didn’t think she would show. This being my last day and all, along with the fiasco from the other night I figured that she finally had enough and was frustrated and aggravated by my decision and drunken stupor on her doorstep. But she actually wanted to talk and when I heard her voice I never felt so in love.

 

And thus, what ensued would be our final conversation before I got on this plane and began this trip.

 

Like a Hollywood drama, the tension was so strong between us that it caused ripples in the ocean. And like a Hollywood drama, there was more power in the words unspoken than said as not a single word was uttered in the first 10 minutes. The setting was a brown bench looking out over the water and it proved to be critical in our scene.

 

I kept wanting to talk, wanting to move closer to her, wanting to just kiss her and make things right. But every time I was on the verge of making my move, I choked. It was as comical as pathetic as I rehearsed every line in my head three times before I was about to open my mouth and still – nothing came out!

 

So we just sat there, 3 feet apart on the same brown bench where we had sat so many times before. If fact, it was the same brown bench where I asked her to be my girlfriend in the fourth grade. (She said yes.  She couldn’t turn down a kid in blue Osh Kosh suspenders)

 

While the 10 minutes seemed like a lifetime, at the moment it feels like it was a blur as I’m sitting in seat 20B on American Airlines headed for Los Angeles crammed in between a 19 year old “rapper” (who is whiter than Connor) and what may very well be the next spokesperson for sleep apnea. I swear, I don’t even need the air on because this dude is breathing so damn hard on me!

 

I know, I’m rambling and Connor keeps telling me to “not ramble” but whatever – this is a good story.

 

So the conversation began with her talking about our relationship and what we’ve been through. It was wild as I never really thought about the time we spent together. On and off since the fourth grade, each others first date, first kiss, first…you get the picture. We did everything together and a more perfect couple couldn’t be painted and in our town, we were the model couple. Adelaide the smart, peppy, beautiful former cheerleader, and I, the smart, good looking, football player (Remember – this is my blog so I get to embellish a little about myself, lol)

 

But seriously, it was almost too perfect. And Adelaide new it. She started to talk about Becky, Janine, and Sidney who were all either engaged, married, or expecting their first born and really laid it out for me as she wondered when it was going to be her turn.

 

In Layman’s terms; that is when the shit hit the fan.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I would marry Adelaide tonight if I could and spend the rest of my life with her. And I would be happy, start a great family, and consider myself the luckiest man on this earth. But…I can’t do that if I know I’ll look back on my life and be curious about another path that I could have taken.

 

So, like my Grandfather told his wife many years ago, I told Adelaide about my dream.

 

I told her about my dream to sail around the infamous Cabos de Hornos, or Cape Horn. I told her about my dream to see this world from the ocean. About my dream to see the edge of the earth where so many pioneers went before. About how I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I passed up the chance to follow my idol’s footsteps. About how I had to live life at a ‘new  normal’. About how this is the one single thing that I know I was placed on this earth to do. And how, like those kids on the monkey bars, I had to live life being curious, asking questions, and constantly wondering why.

 

Now Adelaide has heard all of those things before, but today on that brown park bench was the first time that she actually listened to them.

 

As I spoke to her I grasped her hands in mine and looked her in the eyes and by the end of the conversation her hands were on her lap and tears in her eyes. All she could do was look at me with a blank, exhausted stare and ask me one final question.

 

“Cole, isn’t everything you need, or want, right here?”

 

And like the first 10 minutes of our Hollywood drama, there was silence and the love of my life stood up from that historic brown bench, looked out into the Atlantic, wiped her beautiful blue eyes with her sleeve, and walked away. Without saying a single word, Adelaide left…and five hours later, so did I.

 

Cole

Hard to believe this is my final day at home for what could be…well I really don’t know for how long. It’s funny, I’ve thought of this day for years and the feeling I have now is nothing what I assumed.

 

Don’t have much time to write.  I’m heading to the docks to meet Adelaide and then I’m off to the airport.

 

More to come . . . from the road!

 

Cole

 

So obviously the other night went real well with Adelaide.  I DID manage to get her on the phone and smooth things over a bit finally.  I couldn’t bring myself to tell her my plans over the phone, though.  I told her I’ve had a lot of things on my mind — including “us” and our futures.  I think that made her feel better, knowing that I have been thinking about her and not just purposely ignoring her the past few weeks.  She agreed to meet me later at “our spot” on the docks after I told her I had something important to talk to her about. 

 

I gotta pack all day and deal with the already awkward situation at home.

 

I keep trying to upload pictures to my blog before I take off…still trying to figure out all the ins and outs of this blog thing.  Advice???

 

Cole

 

So after writing my last post, I decided it was finally time to tell Adelaide about my trip.  It went a lot smoother in my head than in reality. My entire plan was to walk over to Adelaide’s (she lives 3 blocks away), toss a few small pebbles at her window, have her wake up with a smile on her face, waltz down to her front door in those short orange shorts and white tank-top, sit next to me on the giant swing that hangs from her porch, and let me explain to her why I had to take this trip. And she would then understand and accept my decision, give me a hug, invite me to her room, and …well, you know the rest.

 

And like the planes at Pearl Harbor – I crashed and burned.

 

Adelaide opened her window and the exchange went something like this;

“Cole, it’s 3:30 in the morning (like I didn’t know that). What the hell do you want?”

 

I motioned for her to come down, half-whispering something about her orange shorts and needing to explain my distance over the last few weeks.

 

Well I’m sure you can guess what her response was.  She told me that if I wanted someone to talk to I should call Connor and if I was just looking for some late-night tail that I should call Liz from college. A low blow as she knew Connor wouldn’t wake up to a few pebbles on his window and Liz was the girl who she caught me making out with during my freshman year.

 

She shut the window.

 

So there I was, like Travolta in Grease, stranded in front of her house with a pounding Grand Marnier headache, no girlfriend, and pride nowhere to be found. It was there where I knew it was time to get some sleep and time for 3 aspirin’s.

 

Thanks for the inspiration Grampa!

 

 

Cole

It’s 3:00 AM and I can’t sleep. I’m supposed to leave in two days and my mind is racing. Am I really doing this? When I get to LA will I be able to find this guy Carbajal that my Grampa mentioned in his journal?  Am I leaving on bad terms with my parents? Am I right about leaving now?  Am I risking my relationship with Adelaide . . .  maybe forever?

 

The weird part about all of this is that my mind is racing because I think it’s supposed to be racing. I’m not nervous about the trip and I’m not worried about what I may or may not be leaving behind. And I think it’s because of Grampa.

 

In 1933, Gramps was 18 years old, penniless and broke as he was unsure of what to do with his life. He was living in New York City on the brink of disaster when he found a job on a boat. The crew he worked with would sail up and down the eastern seaboard transporting goods to various port towns. An easy way to make money and see the country he figured it was a decent job at the time considering the economy. It ended up not only being a decent job, but one that he fell in love with. On his trips, Gramps fell in love with everything the ocean had to offer and knew that his life was to be spent on the very waters that saved him from futility.

 

In 1942, after saving every penny he ever made Gramps joined a sailing crew that was planning to sail around the world. Little did he know then that our nation was on the brink of war and as luck would have it, the attacks on Pearl Harbor became a reality and he was compelled to join the Navy.

 

After World War II he returned home and met his wife, Clare. It is then when our lives became eerily similar. He had a great wife, a great life, and just started a bed and breakfast (that my family currently owns and operates). But he knew that something was missing. There was an emptiness in his life and he could only assume it was the fact that he never got to sail around the heralded and respected Cape Horn.

 

So he took off.

 

Well, I guess he didn’t “take off” as Grandma let him go.  She knew that he yearned to see the Horn with his own eyes. And while she hated to see him go on a voyage that could prove deadly, she knew that he needed to sail.

 

I guess I wish Adelaide understood me like that. Maybe it took Grams a while to get to that point?

Or maybe Grampa just explained it better…

 

Cole

 

So the weekend was a blast. My folks gave me the silent treatment, Andy locked himself in his room, and I’ve been avoiding Adelaide, prolonging the inevitable of the “relationship” talk again. So I did what any 26 year old would do – rip beers with my boys.

 

Brady showed up beeping the horn to his new silver Pathfinder which was supposed to “make him look sweet.” After I reminded him that he was the high school hoops coach and not Omar Epps from Love and Basketball we headed to Malloy’s – the local sports bar.

 

Malloy’s is where we spend WAY too much time every Fall watching college football.  We watched the Trojans beat up on Arizona State and I have to say that they looked sloppy, but they’re still my squad.  One of my boys from college transferred there a few years ago. If I could only tell you about last fall when we flew out there for the UCLA game and slept at the Kappa Kappa Gamma house…wow.

 

Anyway, Brady, Connor, and Jackson surprised me with a going away party as they have accepted that I’m taking off and sailing around Cape Horn. Round after round we went laughing, busting each other’s chops, and reminiscing. After the 19^th shot of Grand Marnier (or at least what felt like 19 shots) I decided to walk home.

 

And yes, that was the absolute worst idea I ever thought of.

 

As I was leaving the twelfth voicemail for Adelaide I turned the corner and Dad was on the porch reading his newspaper and Mom was finishing her evening walk with our neighbor. Instantly, I thought about confronting the both of them on the spot, you know, just letting them have it. But just as I was about to open my mouth I not only tripped on the uneven asphalt, but felt a hot inner sweat and sour taste evolve in my mouth.

 

Within 30 seconds I was puking on my SC hoodie, our front stoop, and the half dead tulips that my Mom cherishes as if they came from her womb.

 

I know, I’m real smooth.

 

Cole

 

p.s. Thanks for the advice bloggers!

(more…)

 

Tonight at supper I told my family that I was leaving. And it did not go as planned. You know when you rehearse something over and over and think that you have it nailed to only watch the bulletproof plan melt before your very eyes? Well, that is what occurred tonight.

 

It started off pretty good with Andy, my little bro, and I shooting hoops. Right as Mom yelled for us to come in for supper I grabbed Andy by the arm and told him to listen to me, that I had to tell him something that I haven’t even told Mom and Dad yet.  I told him I’m going around Cape Horn and that I leave in five days.

 

Understand that Andy is my best friend, closest confidant, and strongest ally, so obviously I expected him to be crushed as it took me a week to muster up the guts just to tell him. His response was classic.  All he said was, “No kidding Cole. I knew that a month ago.”  How did he know?  I guess he noticed I’ve been up on the computer for the last few nights cursing under my breath. He knows I’m never one to spend hours surfing the web and I guess he thought I was either going crazy or planning my trip. It makes sense, I’ve been talking about doing this my entire life.

 

And there you have it; my enormous secret was about as big a story to my little brother as who won the local $20 lottery.

 

Anyway, dinner and the parents were next. The plan was to bring it up after the spaghetti, but before the dishes. I thought we could at least eat in peace before my folks lost their minds on me. But of course, this went about as well as McCain’s performance in the debate the other night.

 

Mom knew something was up before I asked her to pass the cheese.

 

Let me first paint you all a picture. Mom, Devorah, is a small lady in size but a giant in terms of passion and energy. But she is also one of those who grew up here, was a cheerleader, and still goes to Friday night football games even though I haven’t played in 8 years. So yea, she’s a local.

 

Dad, Bill, is tough and blue collar. He’s one of those guys who don’t believe in credit cards because cash allows you to never be in dept (or “owe anyone”). Ridiculously educated as he reads more than I thought possible, but he is not much of an adventurer as he’s been working the same job his entire life.

 

Anyway, back to dinner. So Mom asks what’s wrong and as I am about to begin my long awaited and prepared speech as if I was Obama (who might be my hero) Andy blurts out, “Mom, Cole’s sailing around Cape Horn. Is it ok if I go with him? I’ll bring my homework.”  Great.

 

Whatever he said after that, I can’t remember. My entire pitch went out the door along with my Dad, who ever so gracefully yet powerfully set his fork down on his plate, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and stood up.

 

Mom, who has some fire to her, was not as poised.  And thus, World War III began (and Bush had nothing to do with it).

 

I tried everything. First, I took the mature approach which she didn’t give a chance in hell. Then, it was the “I’m a grown ass man” theory, which too was a joke. I then resorted to the “this has been my dream since I was 8” method, which got her to pause for a moment. Or at least I thought. Finally, I went to old faithful, trying to out-yell her which gave me this pounding headache that will not quit.

 

Anyway, I’m heading to bed. Need to sleep this one off.

 

Any advice for me out there???