Monday, September 28, 2015

September 28, 2015 - Thoughts On The Atlantic

They’re bringing the pleasure boats in now.  One by one, they’re disappearing from the harbors and going into storage.  The floats off the end of the ramps are also being hauled in and stored.  October is just around the corner, and the Atlantic can be very “iffy” in October.  Sometimes it’s smooth, for the Atlantic, and other times it’s stormy and crazy. 

The Atlantic is getting moody.
My neighbor had a small boat that capsized in October a couple of years back.  It had broken free from the dock due to terrible turbulence on the Atlantic.  I saw it coming toward my house . . . and then . . . up in the air and slam!  Upsidedown it went.  He managed to salvage the boat, but the motor had gotten destroyed.  He was so angry with himself because he knew better than to trust the Atlantic in October.

The Pacific Ocean is called “pacific” for a reason.  By comparison to the Atlantic, it’s quite calm and lovely.  At least that’s what Magellan said when he first entered it, although I’m sure that people living all over the world on the coasts of the Pacific Ocean might have a different tale to tell.  Still, nothing beats the ferocity of the north Atlantic Ocean as far as I’m concerned.

It’s dramatically different at different times of the year, and we are heading into a “choppy” time.  I have seen many floats ripped off the end of docks in the fall, and they have come drifting by my window.  It’s not a time of year to fool around.  Everything needs to be put away and stored because we’re heading into the unforgiveable phase of the Atlantic’s expression.  By the time winter arrives, it will be one hell of a beast.

This so-called beast was named after Atlas, the Greek Titan.  He was the one punished by Zeus and had to hold up the heavens on his shoulders to prevent the Earth and the Heavens from engaging in their primordial embrace.  The Greeks believed the Atlantic was a huge river that encircled the world.  And out in that “river,” beyond the Pillars of Hercules, Plato tells us we will find the mysterious island of Atlantis. 

We now know that the Atlantic is the ocean that separates the New World from the Old World.  It was the Atlantic that had to be crossed to find the Americas.  I wonder if the Greeks somehow had preserved an ancient memory of the land on the other side of the Atlantic.  Perhaps submerged somewhere in its depths, we will someday find the fabled Atlantis, or perhaps America is Atlantis.  Until we find it, we will bring our boats in on time and haul in our floats, and we will respect the waters of the great Atlantic.

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