Blog Archives

Sail on, my Captain

Sixteen years ago I wrote the following lighthearted poem in honor of my husband Roger and two friends, Roger and Mike, who raced our sailboat in the 1998 National Catalina Race held in Westbrook, Connecticut.  They took first for the tall rig division in all three races.  Yes, readers, the sailboat’s name was Sloopy, the inspiration for the fictional 36 foot sloop that Liz and Garret live aboard in Murder in Mystic, Murder in Newport and Two Headed Snake of Key West.  Our Sloopy was fast and my husband could make a mighty Margarita.

I am sharing this with you in memory of my husband, who passed away on July 1, 2014.  Sail on, my captain.


The pressure was on

To win a glass cup

Each silently prayed

He wouldn’t screw up


The guy thing, you know

Machismo, at best

The challenge would come

They’d be put to the test


The good Lord was laughing

As they hoisted the main.

These three would need blessings,

And more, it was plain


Wine made from water

Was easy for sure,

But Roger, Mike, Roger

Three races endure?


The task was immense

But these were nice guys

He raised His arms up

And Sloopy did rise.


She raced to the finish

Three bullets to boot

Miracles do happen.

There’s proof in the loot.


The lesson each learned,

To celebrate life

Believe in oneself

Be good to your wife.

Key West- A State of Mind

Today I am writing from a hotel room in Key West, Florida.  The air is hot and sticky, the water, an inviting turquoise.  I have been here three days, but feel that I could meld into the landscape, a soul living the dream of creativity and barefoot freedom.

When the Boeing 737 screeched to an abrupt halt on the short runway and taxied to the terminal, I felt that I had arrived home.  The sign read “Welcome to the Conch Republic.”  The words rang true of what the United States was founded on, the beliefs of rugged individuals.  It is a state of mind that I fear has been lost as our nation struggles to find equilibrium.  Technology is taking us to unchartered waters where we marvel at the advances, but fear the loss of privacy.  In search of political correctness, we often change laws for the few, forgetting about the rights of many.

Key West has a mix of culture, race and sexual preference where people live and let live with mutual respect.  The hens run free and the roosters crow of independence.  Tomorrow, I fly back to Connecticut.  Besides the baggage I have carried for sixty-three years, I hope to bring back the flip-flop state of mind.  Long live the Conch Republic!