Cruising the Race

It was over 21,000 years ago that the global climate had plunged to icy nadirs and the Northeast was covered deeply by the Laurentide ice sheet, to depths of over a mile. And then the climate warmed, abruptly; the glaciers receded, and a treasury of riches for New England sailors emerged. Cape Cod. The Islands. Cuttyhunk. Block Island. And the jewel of Long Island.

No one knows precisely what happened. Perhaps volcanoes, or prehistoric SUVs. But in any case, we are grateful.

Departing upper Narragansett Bay in early August, one Saturday morning, a fleet of serious boaters heads south. The winds, as they typically are this time of year, are on our nose, causing the sailboats to tack and powerboats to buck the waves. But an easy half-day later we are happily moored at Dutch Island, on the west side of Jamestown. This is only day one, and we celebrate our happy beginning with a walk into town, dinner, and as sailors wont, a drink or two.

Next day, Sunday, an early departure, we parallel the Rhode Island coast south: Bonnet Shores, Narragansett,  Scarborough,  Point Judith. And then west, heading for Long Island Sound. Fifteen nautical miles later, a major landmark heaves into view – Taylor Swift’s seaside mansion in Watch Hill. But respectful as we are, no one storms the beach, only snapping a few photos as we glide by, headed for the safe harbor of Stonington, Connecticut.

Stonington was founded early, in 1649, as a trading outpost. After some confusion as to whether she might belong to Massachusetts, Stonington officially became part of Connecticut in 1662. But we were more interested in the Dog Watch Cafe, one of the world’s top-ten sailor bars, and the Water Street Cafe, where two dozen of us were served dinner promptly and sumptuously.

And on Tuesday morning, early, the thunderstorms and microbursts steamed through, rocking our boats at their docks and killing the power in the marina. And wreaking havoc to the north, which we would not learn of till much later.

But little mind. It passed quickly, the sky brightened, and we set off to the south, to Sag Harbor on the eastern end of Long Island. But this crossing wasn’t to be without event.

The glaciers, in their retreat, had left some oddities in the topology of Long Island Sound, resulting in the Race.

The Race is a challenging area, where the tidal currents can run five knots (6 mph), and the wind raises sharp choppy waves much like the inside of your washing machine. No comfort for relatively slow sailboats, whose top speed may allow them little more than break-even.

We meet the challenge, but our forward progress is slowed to just a few knots relative to the bottom. Huge currents in the Race flow through submerged glacial moraines, attracting fish and fisherman, but tossing our boats in choppy seas, sliding side to side and eventually emerging, surfing, into calm water. It was a transit we will never forget.

The remainder of the journey to Sag Harbor is uneventful, but calls for careful attention to charts, for the channel into the harbor is winding, with treacherous shallows to lure the inattentive.  We call out to each other, warning of dangers, and all make it safely to port.

Sag Harbor is in the Hamptons. A hundred years ago, this end of Long Island had 20,000 acres of potatoes under cultivation. Before that, the whale trade predominated. Today, all of that land has been “developed,” if that can be given a positive spin. It seems that New York City has moved to the Hamptons for summer. Luxurious beach houses and “mansion yachts” prevail. Roads are clogged. Restaurants are crowded. We appreciate the history of the place, the differentness, the unaffordable luxury. But most of all we enjoy the swirling schools of Menhaden minnows in tidal pools, an artistic touch of nature.

On Thursday, we are happy to depart, destination Block Island, a long 35 nautical mile leg. A lengthy day, a few swells, long vistas and faint horizons, but finally we are back in Rhode Island. Familiar waters.

The next few days are comfortable. A crossing of Block Island Sound back to Jamestown, and then to upper Narragansett Bay. It has been a long week, but with rewarding adventures. A major storm, unknown waters, racing tidal currents, shallows and reefs. But we navigated all successfully, and shared comradeship upon each landing.

Here’s to next year’s cruise. Perhaps east this time. Always something to dream of, to plan, while the snows of December lay deep.

A tramp freighter will do

A tramp freighter will do.

It is difficult, in today’s “now” culture, to appreciate the happenings of seventy years ago.

The world had been viciously attacked by dictators who imposed their will upon hundreds of millions of people. America, along with her allies, beat back these dark forces and earned her place as the bastion of democracy. But the way was not smooth and decisions far from easy.

Germany was overcome in May of that year, 1945. But the battle for the Pacific continued to rage, with the Okinawa campaign spanning 82 days from April through mid-June. The Allies suffered over fourteen thousand killed in that short period, nearly twice as many brave souls than in all the fourteen years of our operations in Iraq and Afghanistan.

But worse, we saw that the Japanese fought desperately to defend their homeland, with 77 thousand soldiers and up to 150 thousand civilians killed or dying by suicide. US planners, working on the invasion plans of mainland Japan (Operation Downfall), estimated that from 400,000 to 800,000 American troops would be killed because of the fanatic hostility of Japan’s defenders, both military and civilian. And judging from the Okinawan experience, we also anticipated over a million Japanese military deaths and two million civilian deaths. The cost of this operation, in human life, was beyond imagining.

So it was against this calculus of three million Japanese and many hundreds of thousands of American deaths that President Truman made his most difficult decision. To use the atomic bomb against Hiroshima and Nagasaki, or execute the war plans for Operation Downfall and invade the mainland.  

Our nascent atomic program had been proceeding desperately, quietly, secretly, but ultimately successfully. On July 16, 1945, the first atomic bomb was detonated in the New Mexican desert.

And on that same day, upon learning of the results of the test, the USS Indianapolis departed San Francisco bearing atomic bomb components including over half the world’s known uranium 235 supply. Racing for Tinian Island, the speedy cruiser arrived on July 26. Bomb components and scientists were offloaded, and construction began. By August 6, seventy years ago, they were ready. The bomb, “Little Boy,” was loaded on a B29 Superfortress called “Enola Gay,” and was dropped on Hiroshima.

Exploding with the force of fifteen thousand tons of TNT, Little Boy was devastating. Intense heat and light, shock waves and radiation, nearly instantly killed over 100,000 people, and started raging fires which finished the destruction of the city. Slowly, later that day, the Japanese military command began to comprehend that a single American bomber had completely destroyed a city. Their analysis confirmed that an atomic weapon had been used, but they estimated that only one or two additional bombs could be assembled. The Emperor decided to continue the war.

Three days later, on August 9, another atomic bomb was prepared on Tinian. “Fat Man” used 14 pounds of plutonium-239, and when dropped by the B29 “Bockscar,” exploded on Nagasaki with a force of twenty thousand tons of TNT. Once again, a city was obliterated, with 75,000 killed.

Not assuming that this was decisive, the United States pressed forward with preparing additional bombs, with as many as seven to be ready over August, September, and October.

But it was decisive, and on August 14, Emperor Hirohito signaled his surrender to the Allies.

And with this, World War II finally ground to a halt. The world began to heal and rebuild.

Germany and Japan are now strong economies, close friends, and stout allies. But other things have changed in seventy years. These early weapons, which devastated whole cities, were puny. Modern atomic weapons are 2,500 times more powerful than Fat Man and Little Boy. A single contemporary atomic weapon could destroy Los Angeles and all of its environs. Millions of people instantly killed.

It is for this reason that we have tried hard, for seventy years, to keep the nuclear genie in the bottle. For the longest time, only the US, Great Britain, France, China, and the Soviet Union had nuclear weapons. Now the club has expanded to include India, Pakistan, and North Korea. (Israel is also rumored to have the bomb).

This is why it’s so important that the club not be expanded. Iran, in particular, must not be admitted. Because while we think our technology and power and broad oceans protect us, an advanced ICBM is not required to deliver nuclear holocaust to Los Angeles.

No, a single tramp freighter will do.

Oceans offer no solace in the digital age

There is a theory that our universe consists of nothing but energy and information.

This is rather startling, for our own eyes tell us that a plethora of things exist, from trees and puppy dogs to the Milky Way and Taylor Swift. But upon closer inspection, we see patterns everywhere. Taylor Swift is composed of human cells which are organized in a predictable fashion to form bones and muscle and nerves. Her brain is wired into patterns of neurons which enable her to create patterns of sounds with which to entertain us.

Patterns are created by information which imposes regularity, repeatability, predictability. Waves on the ocean, the facets of a diamond, and Taylor’s DNA are all examples of patterns, hinting at the hierarchical structures underneath. Energy, coalesced into matter, organized by patterns on top of patterns. An entire universe could conceivably be computed if one’s computer were only powerful enough.

Consider “Minions,” “Despicable Me,” and Warcraft – movies and video games representing entire worlds, entertaining and engrossing, but in fact existing only as strings of ones and zeroes arranged in clever patterns within a computer.

 Here are some other examples of information. The Constitution of the United States. The Ten Commandments. The Koran. Not just the paper and words, but the thoughts and beliefs represented by these documents – all information.

 We humans are respectable computers – information processors – in our own right. This has always been true, but what is new is the digital age. The ease with which ideas can flow, be shared, discussed, embraced or rejected is enormous. The digital age has really just begun, but it has already profoundly affected the ways in which we interact. Social memes ebb and flow across the internet, tweeted and posted and shared with the click of a button or a swipe of your phone.

This virtual world is becoming more and more real, and as more of us participate, with increasing facility and ease, physical borders and impediments dwindle to insignificance. Mountain ranges have long since ceased to be barriers. Rivers are instantly crossed by crackling electrons carrying our tweets through the ether. Oceans shrink, deserts are conquered. Information binds us, aligns us, encouraging alliances, creating schisms, and flows with the speed of light, imposing patterns upon mankind.

Such as the recent successes of ISIS. Nothing but a credo, a belief system, ISIS is reaching out to disaffected millions with their message of empowerment. Join us, and be strong. Support us, and be someone. Come to Western Asia and Africa and help us to build the caliphate. Stay at home and attack from within. Professional YouTube videos present targets and means and tactics. The draw is magnetic, the FBI is concerned.

The recent attack on our military in Chattanooga is an example. The perpetrator, a young male, was stirred to action, exactly how we will never know. But his actions are consistent with ISIS directives. We can expect more such attacks.

Attempts to minimize, to label this a “lone wolf” or “lone gunman,” to deny the link to terrorism, are blatantly political.

There is nothing at all “lone” about it. Mohammod Abdulazeez was one of an army of recruits, potentially millions strong, who are formed and trained and inspired every day by a sophisticated social media program. This threat must be recognized and confronted.

While the Administration and  Department of Defense dawdle, several states are moving rapidly. Florida, Indiana, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Texas and Wisconsin have all taken various steps to arm their National Guard members on base and in recruitment centers. More states are reviewing security measures and, one can hope, we will see additional measures adopted.

During the first battle for Fallujah, in the halcyon days when all the fighting was “over there,” a captioned photo of combat Marines was circulating around the internet bearing this legend: "America is not at war, the Marine Corps is at war. America is at the mall."

Those days are gone. ISIS is bringing it. We must recognize the threat and prepare to defend ourselves.

Like it or not, America is at war, and broad oceans offer little solace.

A long and winding road to marriage equality

Life, all life, obeys a fundamental tenet – the propagation of its genetic material. It is a mandate which shapes the behavior of amoebas and turtles and elephants and all of us.

This is often recognized as two subsidiary goals: survival of the individual and survival of the species.  Over and over again in nature we can see this in action as prey strives to escape predator and predator strives to devour prey – all in a constant battle to survive.  Heroic efforts to produce and feed and nurture offspring are observed in the labor of Emperor penguins and Canada geese and stockbrokers and soccer moms.  Life demands perpetuation and procreation.  It is embedded in our genes, imprinted on our DNA.  This monumental struggle can no more be denied than the urge to draw that next sweet breath of air.

According to Thomas Hobbes, the “life of man (is), solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”  An appropriate description of primitive life, for an aged Neanderthal likely died in his thirties. The survival rate of children was atrocious, with perhaps only one of three surviving past the age of six. Even in the Middle Ages, it was unusual to live past forty-five.  It is only in the last century that human lifespan regularly exceeded 70 years.   The discoveries of antibiotics and vaccines, fresh and waste water treatment, and the science of nutrition are largely responsible for this remarkable advance.

Throughout history, humankind has been preoccupied with the procreation of our species. Evolutionary pressures have established that, at least for humans, a family unit is the preferred method for maximizing both individual and species survival.  Where procreation was the goal, a combination of a pair of adult parents with the resultant offspring offered the greatest opportunity for individual and collective survival.

As humans evolved and looked with wonder upon their world, they invented theories and myths to explain what they saw, and to provide comfort. Native Americans created a Great Spirit, just as the ancient Greeks and Romans described a panoply of gods.

It should not be surprising that as religions developed, the strategies that enhanced individual and species survival were enshrined.  Marriage of man and woman became the basis of social organization, with the primary goal being perpetuation of the species via the survival of offspring.  As human populations grew, this strengthened society and, by rule of numbers, the predominant religions.

But by the modern age, things had changed enormously.  No longer was the day spent almost wholly focused on procuring today’s sustenance.  The survival rate of children is now measured in the high 99^th percentile, a far cry from the disastrous effects of predation and influenza and dysentery of prior ages.  A complex society has evolved to overproduce food, shelter, and clothing to the extent that delivers an almost embarrassing surplus.

Our political and religious structures have continued to recognize the value of the familial unit that contributed mightily to our attainment of this nirvana.  But things have, indeed, changed.  Survival of the individual, while still threatened by carjackers and heart disease and other unpleasant things, is largely guaranteed by our booming economies and generous social programs.  Procreation of the species can be achieved via traditional methods or by a number of sophisticated fertility techniques.  Almost any couple can now bear children, and those who cannot may adopt. The strict imperative of male/female bonding for species propagation has been relaxed by a combination of factors.

The original purpose of marriage, between a man and a woman, has long been fulfilled.  We have survived, we have bloomed, and matured. Religious constraints, created during times of disease and duress, are now free to evolve.

The Supreme Court is correct. There is no longer a justification for denying like-gendered couples the societal benefits of marriage. It does no harm to our specie’s survival and adds to the store of human happiness.

That’s an easy case to argue.