These title words from Walt Whitman’s poem have been winding their way around my head this week. Whitman wrote this poem as a tribute to President Abraham Lincoln following his death. The poem doesn’t specifically mention Lincoln but for Whitman he was the captain of our collective ship, the United States, which had just barely made it through a very rough storm. For many of us though, we learned Whitman’s words not because of his poem but because of their use in the movie, Dead Poet’s Society.
I was thinking of “O Captain, My Captain” this week because the deaths of two very important boat captains in my life. My captains were Mark who died at the end of January and Denise who died three years ago this week. We own a 1978 Tartan sailboat that we have had in partnership with Mark, Denise, and others over the years.
The boat was first purchased by Mark, a friend of my husband, Tim. Mark had found the boat in the Carolinas (through boating classifieds). The boat was in tough shape from the salty air and years out of the water. Mark bought the boat only seeing pictures and had it shipped back to Minnesota. He had it parked out back of Matt’s Auto in Glen Lake to work on.
Mark was meticulous, removing all the teak from the inside, stripping, sanding, and re-staining it all. It was at this point, when the cabin was stripped bare that Mark invited Tim to partner with him. Together they worked on the boat, re-doing the electrical, putting in a new diesel motor, and ordering new sails. For Mark who did all the woodwork, the restoration of this boat was truly a labor of love.
Mark’s attention to detail also showed in the work he shared with Tim at the Minnetonka Police Department. Mark was such a great mentor for Tim and others. He could take control of a
situation with care and compassion. Tim said, “Mark was as much a social worker as he was a police officer”. A true public servant.
Mark said the boat needed to be on Lake Superior which is why he asked Tim to become his boat partner. We had moved to Duluth in 1991. Mark loved the big lake. It was Mark’s love for sailing and Lake Superior that had gotten Tim interested in sailing in the first place. Mark and Tim took a community education sailing land class at Minnetonka High School and then an on the water sailing class out of Bayfield, Wisconsin sailing the Apostle Islands. I tagged along for the on the water class. It was truly rough seas. They passed, me, well not so much.
We named our sailboat “Dance of Three” as she often had three partners. But I also liked the name because I often feel sailing is a dance of water, wind, and the sails. Sailing has taught me a great deal about life too, mostly patience. For example, you can’t control the wind, so you learn to adjust your sails and your route. Life and sailing often forces you to come about.
Denise and Dennis were also partners of our dancing boat. Denise often took the helm and no one really minded. Well, except maybe when coming into the dock, Denise often came in hot and a little fast. But that was kind of like her life. Her diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer forced a major adjustment of her plans, and she went full on into a headwind. She did so much those last few years of her life, all three of her kids were married and she got to love several grandkids. She taught me so much about embracing each and every day.
Both Denise and Mark lived their deep faith. A faith they grounded in the words of Micah 6:8, “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with our God.” They both just did what needed to be done, paying attention to the details and adjusting their sails when necessary.
O Captains, my Captains
I can sail without the wind,
I can row without oars,
But I can’t leave a parting friend
Without shedding tears. (Swedish Folk Song)
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