Friday and weekend doings

I have taken today off from work. I'm going out on the boat for the weekend. I'm not sure whether I'll be posting anything until Monday. So if I don't, I want to wish you well until I come back and have a chance to comment on your blogs.

I'm going to get to my usual anchorage by tomorrow afternoon when there will be a re-enactment of the 146th anniversary of the assault of Battery Wagner. The Assault on Battery Wagner brought the men of the 54th Massachusetts and the Confederate forces together in combat.

The 54th Massachusetts, an experimental black army regiment of free men from the North whose heroic conduct and bravery persuaded the Union that African-American men could and would fight for their freedom, waged a lengthy battle on this historic day. Before the 54th, most African Americans employed by the Union Army were relegated to positions as laborers, hostlers and cooks. The Confederate forces fiercely defended the Fort. The 54th regiment lost the fight and a third of its 600 soldiers that day, but gained the respect of both Union and Confederate armies. It will be the first re-enactment that I have seen.

On Saturday, there will be another major party on the island. Supposedly the event will have four bands, beach volleyball, and a bunch of free giveaways. I've been told by the organizers that there will be plenty of trash bags. I'm not planning on cleaning up more litter so I hope they are prepared with an ample supply.

I just want to chill out, get some sleep, go for a long walk and do some reading. This is my place of meditation--my boat and the island. After the last walk of the evening, we will row back to the sailboat and fix a simple dinner of steak and couscous. Then we generally read to each other. Sometimes we read the Big Book of AA and sometimes we bring sailing books to read from--accounts of around the world sailors. We always end the evening with a simple prayer.

After all the party boats leave, the island becomes quiet except for the sound of the waves and the wind. It is a place where many men died. Yet, I think of it as a place teeming with life in the surf, in the tide pools, in the rookeries. I always seem to sleep better when I'm being rocked to sleep by the motion of the boat, nestled against the one I love.