The time of my life lasted three years on a sailboat called Aikane. My path crossed Capt. Bob's one evening in Key Largo. He was a lively charter boat captain sailing people to the Bahamas. He needed a first mate and I was more than happy to join his crew.

My first night was magical. We had picked up the guests and stores in Miami, then set off across the Gulf stream to Bimini. We had left at night to arrive early morning. The guests were below sleeping, I was at the helm with Bob beside me. The lessons began and lasted throughout the night as we sailed east we began my crash course in sailing. Types of sails and when to use them, celestial navigation, anchors, weather patterns and so much more

We were like the lost boys as we explored the islands, ate grouper, conch and lobster fresh from the ocean, then dressed up in the evenings for the casinos with the guests.

During low season, Capt. Bob and I continued our way alone down the chain of the Bahamas Islands. We would usually be low on money, but this life is not so dependent on cash, more on cleverness and Bob was clever.

Once, we were anchored off an island that had an all inclusive resort. In the morning, we would swim ashore, then blend in with the paying guests. We would enjoy a leisure breakfast from the endless buffet, read the local newspaper, take hot showers while enjoying the island music. When we were done,we would walk into the ocean and swim back to Aikane.

Bob was a lovable rogue. Once at a notorious biker's club in Key Largo, Bob stood at the entrance in his straw hat and Hawaiian shirt, collecting ''cover charge'' from all the tourists arriving. He was so convincing and bold, not one person ever guessed that he was anyone other than the bouncer and paid.

We once rowed to an island, leaving Aikane in the anchorage. The beach was covered in reefer, bales had broken and washed ashore. I remember collecting buds in improvised buckets and being warned that the police were watching out for the happy beachcombers to come into town. We simply rowed back to the boat and dried it with our strong spotlight.

I loved rowing into the islands in the early morning for Bahamian bread, fresh fruits and vegetables. Hearing the local gossip, wandering around and meeting people. We used to call it recon and I felt like an adventurous explorer.

I kept a log daily and embraced this unfettered, nautical life. One entry still gives me chills to reread it. We had guests and were caught in a bad storm approaching the island. The guests were below praying and I was flying around like a ride at the fair, trying to keep my feet grounded at the helm. The huge waves would lift the boat, then we would careen down. I remember wondering to myself, how much pounding could this boat take?

When we finally made it to shore, we couldn't buy a drink for a week. The locals had been watching our precarious approach and were impressed.

We had a book on board called the Bahamas Guide, which we would use daily to navigate the inlets. The rough drawings (very Peter Panish) showed where the reefs were and gave a path to come into each island. Some were pretty basic like lining up two posts and when they lined up, you turned into the cut.
We would mark our own observations, good lobster spots and updates to the book, for when we met sailors heading there and wanting some local knowledge.

Looking for new adventures, we sold Aikane, drove north to Vermont and bought 2,000 feet of pine logs to build my cabin in the woods.