A Whole Ocean of Delight
Listen to Skipper
Skipper
What begins as light motion becomes a journey.
A buoyant theme suggests skipping across calm water, but a turn to minor harmonies hints at depth below the surface. Soon an insistent figure circles overhead like seabirds, and the scene clarifies: a small boat leaving harbor, trading shelter for open water.
Out beyond the breakwater, nothing is guaranteed. A brief squall arrives — not catastrophic, just demanding. The sail strains, the boat heels, attention sharpens. Then, as quickly as it came, the weather passes. Sailing, like life, is less about dramatic storms than about steady adjustment: trim, tack, wait, continue.
The skipper does not argue with the sea. He accepts that calm and turbulence belong to the same water. Most of the voyage is uneventful, even repetitive — wind, wave, correction — yet the miles accumulate. Harbor was never the destination; it was the starting point.
Eventually the breeze softens and turns landward. The boat glides home, not unchanged, but not undone either — proof that the open water can be faced, endured, and left behind.
