What a perfect night in the hammock last night, the kind I live for!
Perhaps it was the fact that I’m fasting for two days, the wine, or some cosmic/narcotic jungle pollen floating in the air, but I was wholely blissful laying in my hammock last night. I know I am such a lucky man and I’m quite grateful!
It’s good entertainment watching the lightning strike through the distant night sky.
The howler-monkeys roar when rain is approaching and quiet once it starts. All this excitement around me and not a drop last night. Just a full moon casting light 
on the mountains amongst a billion stars and rain everywhere but over Splendid.
The cool breeze of distant squalls would gently push Splendid in circles as I laid in my cotton paradise gazing at the night sky with a smile as long as the stripe on an endless highway.
Dreams are borne in such a place!
The last decade of my life has been consumed by studying charts, pilot data, dreaming, restoring, and voyaging. I know I haven’t been sailing much lately, but to me, from my perspective, cruising is a given! I coast through life and smile when I think of all the stress I left behind so long ago. 
Man, all that shit (bills, cars, keep’n up with the Jones’s, work, restaurants, health clubs, traffic, news, processed & fast food) is so far in my rear view its like a bad dream.
I’m feeling like Splendid will sail around Marchish. I don’t know where, how far, but I think the “stick” of Panama may give way to a new path. Who knows? I may be into making money in the San Blas, or deep in some sort of project (next film) but whatever happens I’ll be coasting (cruising), it’s a good thing.
Whatever happens in 2012, 2011 is the re-dawn of the motorcycle for me. I counted last night, my DT 175 is my 7th motorcycle. And out of all of them I’ve never felt like one set me free, they were just a tease. Kind of like my first 3 sailboats, it wasn’t until “Namaste” did my vehicle set me free…, or did I set her free? Either way it doesn’t matter, it happened. I was living in the matrix and there was always an end to my motorcycle’s proverbial road, not any more. My DT’s a bit small for my application but she woke me up to a new era.
There is a 3rd option for my next year cruising. I’m always weighing sailing across the Pacific or Atlantic, tick-tock, Africa, China, where?
If my chartering season does well and I upgrade my motorcycle I’m considering sailing to Colombia, or transiting the Canal and sailing to Ecuador. I’m dreaming to explore S. America by motorcycle, backpack & tent. Africa and China will be there for me to explore by sea and bike, perhaps i should take this journey first?
Even though Panama is connected to South America it is separated by the Darien Gap, a stretch of jungle so thick & wild modern technology cant build or maintain a 
road through it. Before I leave Panama I will motorbike as far into the Darien gap as I can, I think it will make a good video and I can visit the Embara-Wounaan Indians. I’ll take a week and make the first sailing/motorbike video.
I cant rest or go anywhere until Splendid is “ship-shape”, but if I can manage it I would like to motorcycle both coasts of S. America before i visit a new continent.
It may be a pipe dream but it’s something :)
Anyway these were my thoughts & dreams last night.
I finished restoring & played my guitar for the first time since Australia :)
Peace, Love, sailboats & motorcycles!
alex
Published in Alex Dorsey
Health
Man, its all about health. I’ve bee a bit stressed about cancer for a few years as my father had colon cancer and mom died of lung cancer, maybe thats why I live the way I do, every day as if it’s your last? Anyway went for a colonoscopy this morning, “WHAT A HORRIBLE ORDEAL”, a real pain in my ass!
Anyway I must admit I was happy to hear all is well. I’s also really nice to eat again after fasting for 60 hours, man I love food!
I’m writing the provisioning/cooking section of my book 2night and I really think cruising is the perfect opportunity to get healthy.
Its a beautiful night here in Linton.
I’m thinking to cruise to the Darien week after next, then to San Blas :)
Cheers
i did a little sufing and found although crossing the darien on motorcycle has been done, it is not practicle. it would be best to sail to bahia de craquez, ecuador and ride from peurto amistad. G
Alex:
Hammock, wine, thunderstorm, howler-monkeys, full moon… What a night. Thanks for drawing that picture.
I’m in MN doing 11 shows a day, 2 days a week in a corporate apartment overlooking 494. If I blur my ears just right the traffic whizzing by my place sounds like the ocean. Yea Right. Stars… Non existent. In the city, two bright stars and a moon that matches the street lights.
Not sure how people exist like this for any length of time. Pile all that onto -20 degree temps and hot, muggy and buggy inland weather in the summer. But when I come back each year, most of them have survived it all.
I’ll be heading south to SW Florida in a couple of weeks. Can’t wait. Give Panacea a once over and go to a nice little anchorage for a week or so. Lay in my hammock and watch the stars and thunderstorms.
Be safe brother. Keep doing what your doing. Fill in those cells with thoughts and watch your dreams come alive. You’re the best…
Stay in touch, and I’ll do the same.
Capt. Paul
s/v Panacea
Gary, that does sound like a good option, more time in Galapagos too :) I remember you sailed north after galapagos and returned, how did that go?
Capt Paul, hang in there bro drop me a line when you get back to Panacea.
i injured my back changing the flexplate between the engine and transmission, and the doctor gave me a letter allowing me to stay as long as i wanted to heal. the sail back to panama was a motor sail with dirty fuel, but troy and i made it. north to mexico was eventful, what with the tuanapek(sp) and papa guiao, but the challenge was very exhilarating with 35-40 knots. mexico was good in the southern half , but the northern part sucked. dirty and the culture was %^&*, but the food was great……..G ps the cost of the ct was wrong, and i may still come to panama .
It is the choices we make not the chances we take that determine our destiny. Alex, I think you are in the right frame of mind. Keep dreaming. And keep living that dream. Nothing can stop us if we get over the fear of the unknown. I am a dreamer and adventurer too. I see myself sailing and visiting Mexico, Brazil, and eventually the world. I just need to let go of my possessions, get a boat and go.
I enjoy reading your blog. I have seen both of your films repeatedly. Your inspiration helps keep my dream alive. Thank you. It is an honor to call you friend.
Carpe Diem
Chuck
I concur with Chuck. Seems like I, and alot of others, are in the same “boat” as Chuck. The boat that don’t float!
Hey Alex, this is my first post so I’ll send you an e-mail of introduction… soon.
Peter
Thanks Chuck/Peter.
I know everyone has different dreams & aspirations. Sailing, living free & and simple is just mine and I enjoy sharing it. If I can help with unplugging my fellow man from the machine I’m all about it. Actually its my evil plan with Project BlueSphere, simply to show the average man (from all cultures) it’s all possible with hard work & determination. The kind of lifestyle I lead is not very difficult or expensive. It does take a little rewiring of your brain and bucking what we have been taught by “society”. I don’t feel guilty anymore or lazy when I sleep in, or decide to take a few days in the hammock to contemplate my navel. Actually recently I did it for the better part of a year and in the end it was a good thing for my head.
The biggest traps I see are people being afraid of their futures “financially”, and the guilt that their children deserve a standardized education. People also seem to have a fear of the sea, this makes me chuckle as driving on the freeway is so vastly more dangerous to sailing the ocean on a sound ship. I also find that many people are afraid of other cultures. I blame the television for this. The television has people so afraid of sharks, the ocean (weather), other cultures, disease, poverty that it really angers me, it’s control over the masses, and most people don’t even realize it. If you dream of this kind of lifestyle you must turn the television off and listen to the voice in your heart instead. From my perspective “people” (western cultures) have become far too complacent in their living rooms depending on the “system” to keep them cool, warm, entertained, fed, that they have forgotten how to do these things for themselves. People spend their entire lives eating meat and have never killed for it. Warm, and have never built a fire. Kids don’t read, they play first person shooters (killing), watch “reality” telivision and violent programming and the parents think this is totally acceptable. Not to mention the fact everyone seems to be getting fatter eating processed shit that keeps them in their couch. Maybe I’m an “extremest” or something but this “normal” is not for me, you can keep it!
By no means am I saying that my way is the “right” way, it’s just my way. And if your interested I’ll share my experiences.
Sorry, I got on a bit of a rambling rant this morning. The sun is out and I’m going to try and mount some stansions, the mizzen sheet track, and maybe throw some paint down.
One of the local villages (Jose Pobre) is having a big party on Saturday night, live music and all, should be fun.
Cheers
alex….have you experienced puerto lindo’s version of conga? 1/2 gal. of rum and dirty dancing?…if you see danny or lionel around the village send them a hola from me………………….G
What happened to our hero’s?
Somewhere between the television and ultimate freedom lay the words of one of my hero’s, Mr. Bob Dylan.
“Last thoughts on Woody Guthery” is a poem by Bob Dylan and recited live during his April 12, 1963 performance at New Your City’s Town Hall. I thought it was appropriate.
Enjoy:
“There’s this book comin’ out, an’ they asked me to write something about Woody…
Sort of like “What does Woody Guthrie mean to you?” in twenty-five words…
And I couldn’t do it — I wrote out five pages and… I have it here, it’s…
Have it here by accident, actually… but I’d like to say this out loud…
So… if you can sort of roll along with this thing here, this is called
“Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie.”
– Bob Dylan
When your head gets twisted and your mind grows numb
When you think you’re too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When you’re laggin’ behind an’ losin’ your pace
In the slow-motion crawl or life’s busy race
No matter whatcha doin’ if you start givin’ up
If the wine don’t come to the top of your cup
If the wind got you sideways it’s one hand holdin’ on
And the other starts slippin’ and the feelin’ is gone
And your train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood’s easy findin’ but you’re lazy to fetch it
And your sidewalk starts curlin’ and the street gets too long
And you start walkin’ backwards though you know that it’s wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow’s mornin’ seems so far away
And you feel the reins from your pony are slippin’
And your rope is a-slidin’ ’cause your hands are a-drippin’
And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And your sky cries water and your drain pipe’s a-pourin’
And the lightnin’s a-flashin’ and the thunder’s a-crashin’
The windows are rattlin’ and breakin’ and the roof tops are shakin’
And your whole world’s a-slammin’ and bangin’
And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
An’ to yourself you sometimes say
“I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn’t they tell me the day I was born?”
And you start gettin’ chills and you’re jumpin’ from sweat
And you’re lookin’ for somethin’ you ain’t quite found yet
And you’re knee-deep in dark water with your hands in the air
And the whole world’s watchin’ with a window peek stare
And your good gal leaves and she’s long gone a-flyin’
And your heart feels sick like fish when they’re fryin’
And your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet
But you need it badly an’ it lays on the street
And your bell’s bangin’ loudly but you can’t hear its beat
And you think your ears mighta been hurt
Your eyes’ve turned filthy from the sight-blindin’ dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterday’s rush
When you were faked out an’ fooled while facin’ a four flush
And all the time you were holdin’ three queens
It’s makin you mad, it’s makin’ you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin’ around a pinball machine
And there’s something on your mind that you wanna be sayin’
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin’
But it’s trapped on your tongue, sealed in your head
And it bothers you badly when your layin’ in bed
And no matter how you try you just can’t say it
And you’re scared to your soul you just might forget it
And your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head
An’ your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion’s mouth opens and you’re starin’ at his teeth
And his jaws start closin’ with you underneath
And you’re flat on your belly with your hands tied behind
And you wish you’d never taken that last detour sign
You say to yourself just what am I doin’
On this road I’m walkin’, on this trail I’m turnin’
On this curve I’m hangin’
On this pathway I’m strollin’, this space I’m taking
And this air I’m inhaling?
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I’m playing, on this banjo I’m frailing
On this mandolin I’m strumming, in the song I’m singing,
In the tune I’m humming, in the words that I’m thinking
In the words I’m writing
In this ocean of hours I’m all the time drinking
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking?
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make your heart pound
But then again you know when they’re around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
‘Cause sometimes you hear ’em when the night time come creeping
And you fear they might catch you sleeping
And you jump from your bed, from the last chapter of dreamin’
And you can’t remember for the best of your thinkin’
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that’s somethin’ special you’re needin’
And you know there’s no drug that’ll do for the healing
And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding
You need somethin’ special
You need somethin’ special, all right
You need a fast flyin’ train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That’s been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows your troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don’t bar no race
That won’t laugh at your looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rolling long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it’s you and no one else that owns
That spot that you’re standing, that space that you’re sitting
That the world ain’t got you beat
That it ain’t got you licked
It can’t get you crazy no matter how many times you might get kicked
You need something special, all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope’s just a word
That maybe you said, maybe you heard
On some windy corner ’round a wide-angled curve
But that’s what you need man, and you need it bad
And your trouble is you know it too good
‘Cause you look an’ you start gettin’ the chills
‘Cause you can’t find it on a dollar bill
And it ain’t on Macy’s window sill
And it ain’t on no rich kid’s road map
And it ain’t in no fat kid’s fraternity house
And it ain’t made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain’t on that dim-lit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Rantin’ and ravin’ and takin’ your money
And you thinks it’s funny
No, you can’t find it neither in no night club, no yacht club
And it ain’t in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you’re bound to tell
No matter how hard you rub
You just ain’t a-gonna find it on your ticket stub
No, it ain’t in the rumors people’re tellin’ you
And it ain’t in the pimple-lotion people are sellin’ you
And it ain’t in a cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star’s blouse
And you can’t find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can’t tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain’t in the cream puff hairdo or cotton candy clothes
Ain’t in the dime store dummies an’ bubblegum goons
And it ain’t in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knocking and tapping in Christmas wrapping
Sayin’ ain’t I pretty and ain’t I cute, look at my skin,
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow,
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry,
When you can’t even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No, you’ll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made of paper maché
And inside of the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain’t in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who’d turn you in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind your back, my friend,
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can’t find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all the rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain’t in the ones that ain’t got any talent but think they do
And think they’re fooling you
The ones that jump on the wagon
Just for a while ’cause they know it’s in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down your hat
Saying, “Christ, do I gotta be like that?
Ain’t there no one here that knows where I’m at
Ain’t there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty, that stuff ain’t real”:
No, but that ain’t your game, it ain’t your race
You can’t hear your name, you can’t see your face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that you’re seekin’
Where do you look for this lamp that’s a-burnin’
Where do you look for this oil well gushin’
Where do you look for this candle that’s glowin’
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You find God in the church of your choice
You find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it’s only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You’ll find them both
In Grand Canyon
Sundown