Eight Bells

It's hard to talk about Lewis. He was a dependable crew for us for a few years. He was good foredeck. Fearless in stormy seas, as I remember. On the subject of  spinnaker/no spinnaker, he would always say "Put it all up! Let God take it down." He always said he would solve problems. Trouble-shooter. That's what he said he was. Lewis also found me a very crewman, who's turned out to be a golden and valuable, almost indispensable bowman. I am eternally grateful.

The problem with Lewis was chemistry. After a couple of years, he and I parted our on-board companionship. By mutual and unspoken consent. Ashore, Lewis & I continued to celebrate our friendship. He always had a strong and warm smile & hand shake. Besides sailing memories, we shared a diagnosis. Prostrate Cancer. He was a significant younger man than I. I always thought he had more time than I. But he passed sometime today. (The note was up on the board tonight.) The business between us was unfinished.