It started when Mary saw me looking at the horizon.
I had a melancholy countenance, as she tells the story, when she asked what was on my mind. I responded, "I miss sailing..." my voice drifted off as I watched the sun set over Molokai. "So do I", she responded. My reverie was shattered at the realization that we had never discussed sailing. Mary grew up sailing with her father on a Cal 25 called, "Rest Awhile". I grew up sailing an Ericson 30. Clearly a discussion had to be had. I asked about buying a sailboat. Mary quickly agreed. I suggested that we move on board, again quick agreement.
We began a deliberate search for our floating home. We had located a Hylas 42 that, with some work, could be our home. Or so we thought. It was a beautiful boat, but it didn't speak to the soul. That happened after we had made an offer and had a survey in hand. Mary found an Ericson 39. She wanted to see it. She did not know how much I had wanted an Ericson 39 since 1970. 13 year old Pablo thought it was the sexiest boat ever made. I agreed, with some hesitation, to look at her. I fell in love with her at first sight. Mary, who is more deliberate than I am, and somewhat more daring, went below to commune with the boat. The Hylas had two cabins, a dedicated navigation station, and room to live. The Ericson 39 has all the room below of a 30 foot boat. Cramped is an understatement.
Tiburón is a 1971 Ericson 39, hull number 10. Mary was taken with the flush deck, and the profile that she later commented looked like a Mako Shark. She went below to spend some time to feel the boat. She emerged from the forecastle wearing the mask of Janus. Later, she told me that the boat had whispered to her, "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you..."
