Cole Tyler

The sky has quickly darkened, the swell rapidly grown, and the wind angrily picked up. We are on the verge of rounding Cape Horn.  Starting to get wild out there!  Gotta go help out.

 

Before I go, I will leave you with a phrase my grandfather used to say;

 

“Time on my brow has sit his seal,

            And I start; to find myself a man.”

                                               

 

I love you

 

Cole

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

 

 

About a day off Cape Horn and there are a flock of seagulls above the ship — they are a sign that we are nearing the Edge of the Earth.

 

Not sure what will happen as we enter the next few days and when we do get through, I’m not sure I’ll blog immediately. I may take a week and sit on the beach, I may venture back into the ocean, or I may go to see a special someone.

 

Therefore, I leave you all with a thank you for following me, thank you for your support, and thank you for understanding that dreams are meant to be lived and that life, no matter what, will always work out for the best.

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

 

As I awoke this morning there are no more stops, no more hikes, no more jokes. A sense of seriousness has entered this vessel and the crew can sense the potential danger of Cape Horn as we are a week out.

 

It’s a weird feeling. I’m not nervous, not scared. I actually feel ready.

 

Earlier today I was staring off into the Pacific on the starboard side when Captain Carbajal came up to me. His cigar rolled up and eyes squinted tightly, he too gazed into the ocean. He asked me if I was scared, if I was nervous. Unsure what the name of this feeling is inside of me I couldn’t really answer him.

 

And in Oscar-worthy fashion, he took a long puff from his cigar, leaned on the rails and said, “Cole, below forty degrees there is no law; below fifty degrees, there is no God.”

 

And then he walked away.

 

Thanks Cap’t.

Got this e-mail from her; thought you might enjoy a good read. I know she’s pissed and I actually understand her issues with me, but as mad as she is, I can only remember her one way. (check out the picture)

Thinking of Adelaide

 

 

LETTER (e-mail)

 

I actually believed you were coming home. And as angry and hurt and
many more emotions I don’t even care to list, I can’t even think
straight right now. It is difficult to even type. I’m shaking. My
tears are leaking into the keyboard. I don’t know what to say. Um…so
you obviously didn’t come home. Pretty sure “Maya” had to do with that. What the FUCK?!!!!!!! I don’t even know why I am writing to you. Actually, I
think based on impulse, I’m worried and as much as I HATE you right now I need to know you are ok. I can’t live like this. You’ve driven me
completely insane. Back and forth, back and forth. Waiting on your
decisions. Can’t do it anymore. Just need to know you are alive and
ok. That’s it though.  Don’t want and/or need to know anything else
about you, EVER. Goodbye Cole.

As I sit in the Phantom Internet Café Bar in Miraflores I can feel the next stage of this trip about to occur. I can also feel the next stage of my life beginning.

 

Maya took off early this morning and we are hoping to meet up after the crew and I round Cape Horn.  My plan is to relax in Buenos Aries for a few weeks before either heading home or potentially heading to visit her. We shall see.

 

Off to the boat as we are about a week away from Cape Horn and the weather looks good.

 

Cole

When I was a kid my grandfather used to constantly tell me that no matter what, “listen to your heart.” Well just a few hours ago, I did just that.

 

You see, last night was Maya’s final night with us so we all took her out to eat in Miraflores. A great night as we ate, drank, and danced (or attempted to).

 

We all had a blast.  It’s kind of funny because half of the crew seems to protect Maya and consider her as their sister and half of them protect her because they want her.

 

Regardless, she and I hung all night. As we laughed into the night I felt my heart being lifted to a place that it has never been and I felt as light as a feather as we danced. While that easily may have been the tequila, it was also the scent of Maya.

 

As the evening ended and the crew dissipated in anticipation of our morning departure, Maya and I sat alone in the corner of the restaurant.

 

As we sat there, it seemed as though the music got lighter and our souls got closer. From the smallest touch on the wrist to her subtle brush of my leg, I felt like I did in the 5^th grade when I developed my very first crush on Adelaide.

 

I was giddy, excited, nervous and so relaxed at the same time. A weird feeling as I cannot describe it, but my grandfather also told me that it is impossible to describe love. “You’ll just know it” he would tell me.

 

Anyway, we sat together without saying much for the next 30 minutes before she, in her bold journalistic fashion, turned to me, leaned in and whispered two simple words.

 

“Thank You.”

 

Those two simple, one syllable words sent chills down my spine, lifted the hairs from my neck, and in an almost universally magnetic way, took my head and leaned it in as what followed was the most incredible, passionate, and lustful kiss my lips ever encountered.

 

And in a moment that seemed to last forever, yet end so bluntly, Maya stood up and smiled. She then grabbed a hold of my hand and walked out as a gust of wind was blowing her dark hair back.

 

And it was then, when she walked out, that I fell in love with her.

 

But it was also then, when she walked out, that I thought of Adelaide.

 

Talk soon,

 

Cole

Was going through Gramps’ journal on the bus ride to Lima and came across his entry when the rain got the best of him, like it may have towards me on the Incan Trail. I think you’ll enjoy and get to know him and his temper a little bit more. Gonna grab a bite to eat with the fellas and Maya.

 

                                                April 28

Fanning Island in sight but poor signs of getting there because we are becalmed and it is raining and has rained incessantly for the last four days. It seems as though all the windows of heaven are open. There is nothing but water above us, water beneath us. In fact there is water all around and whatever light air there is hauls around the compass about three times in 24 hours keeping us busy bracing the yards continually. Add to this, short intervals of scorching rays of a torrid sun and you have all that is necessary to break down the constitution of any common man. The ship’s Mate is laid up reduced to a mere skeleton. Some of the members of the crew are sick while others are complaining of sore hands and a disagreeable feeling is pervading throughout the whole ship with signs of insubordination among the crew during the last two days. My apprehensions are anything but agreeable unless we get fair weather with the change of the moon. We have the most stubborn and unmanageable crew I ever saw aboard a ship. They are all foreigners with the exception of one and he is a devil of the first water. I am feeling unwell and am certainly not in a very agreeable mood and have but one thing to say to them and that is that they must kill before they can trample on me. I have patiently held off punishing them in a number of instances because I did not have sufficient grounds to warrant extreme measures. Today, however, forbearance ceased so I struck a real genuine John Bull on the job and sent him head first under a spare topmast. I knew he would resent the blow as soon as he could get up so I head him down, when suddenly a damn big Scotchman pinned both of my arms behind me and in two minutes I had the whole watch on top of me. The Captain came to my help and got me out of the crowd with my face in a rather lacerated state. While the Captain was between me and the men, the Scotchman who was spokesman for a part of the watch happened to edge in front of an open door in the forward house, the threshold being about 20 inches from the deck. I could get hold of no weapon to strike him so I made a spring at him and sent him backwards over the doorway. He struck with the back part of his head on a large iron boat davit. Although I am sorry for what I did if the Captain would have left me alone I would, on the impulse of the moment, placed that Scotchman at a place where he never would have pinned another man’s arms. The Captain gave me a severe lecture and put me under strict injunctions. I suppose if the man’s health had not been in a precarious state things might have looked better. I don’t care a pipe, the ship must carry me home and that is all I want from her for if ever I get on American soil once more it must be a decidedly advantageous inducement that will get me on board another ship.

View of Machu Picchu

The Lost City

 

 

 

Inca TrailHiking the Inca TrailMachu Picchu