Step 2a, Part 2 -- it's not as boring as it sounds, I promise!

14 Feb 2021

I didn't write last weekend because I was down in Wilmington looking at the property I'm buying, now known as Pond Place (at least until we settle on a better, more knowledgeable name for it). It is everything I thought it would be and more. I'm in the throes of dreaming about it now that I have a better mental picture of it -- So Many Fun Things to ponder with it. I think I may have rotted my brain a little yesterday with looking at all the images of "small homes open concept eclectic farmhouse" designs. I was going to go with "boho" but apparently that means you have to have a swinging chair in the room...

Back to Step 2a, though. I made it through the first three buckets the last time I wrote, and my goal for this morning (or what's left of this Valentine's Day morning after making blueberry muffins for breakfast, bottling batch #10 and brewing batch #15 of kombucha) is to finish writing down my aspirations -- maybe not so much goals as Greg pointed out to me what I'm putting on paper aren't SMART goals -- for the remaining five buckets.

• Home 
• Employment
• Physical Health
• Hobbies/Interests/Life-long Learning
• Finances
• Self Care
• Relationships
• Travel

Hobbies/Interests/Life-long Learning: Stop learning, start dying. I have so much to say here, I'm going to come back to this one after I've cleared through the others.

Finances: As I said, I don't need a job; my pension will see me through daily expenses as long as I'm not overly extravagant. When I first started thinking about retiring this summer, one of the very first things I did was to put together a budget to see where I'd be. I've been using mint.com for the last 12 years or so to track my spending, so I had pretty good data on what my spending habits have been. I know they'll change somewhat, but I really don't expect them to be vastly different...maybe actually a little lower since I won't have the boom/bust cycle of preparing for (high spending) and going on patrol (low spending) and since the cost of living in Wilmington is maybe a little less than Norfolk. But there still will be some things to consider.

• Set up automatic tithing donations, either to my charitable donations account or directly to the organizations I chose to support. Sadly, I've fallen off with my giving these last couple of years, and I definitely want to get back to it. I remember when I was in Bahrain, I did some deep reflection on what my values were and how I wanted those reflected in my donations. I came up with four primary charities to support, and wrote them down...somewhere (*again!* with the rando spot for writing Important Things down!). If I remember correctly, the charities were Doctors Without Borders, Evidence Action, Propublica, and Berea College's (my alma mater) African American Opportunity Fund...though I feel like I'm missing one because I can't believe there's not an environmental cause in there too. So I guess I need to figure out what that will be also.
• Work on my Big Book of Everything. I started it one afternoon a couple of years ago and haven't touched it since. I want to keep adding to it, and make a calendar reminder to review it annually.
• Plan to review my spending habits/budget annually. Make a calendar reminder for this...but probably not on the same day as reviewing my Big Book of Everything because that is just **too much** grown-upedness for one day...in fact, those two events should probably be separated by six months!

Self care: Not quite sure how this one is really different from Physical Health, but I can make a good enough argument to leave it here. 

• Go on a silent retreat. I was scheduled to go on one here in April 2020, but then...COVID. I'll have time and flexibility to try again sometime in 2022.
• Incorporate a meditation/yoga space into Pond Place, maybe even as omg! a tree house!! A girl can dream :)
• Find a new massage therapist in Wilmington. My least favorite part about leaving Norfolk will be not being close enough to my massage therapist here for regular massages. Michael at Flow Massage and Bodywork is hands down (tee hee) the best MT I've ever been to. And he's become a good friend. I am hoping I can find someone in Wilmington who is close to his league. Won't stop me from making an appointment with him anytime I happen to be in Norfolk!
• Seek out live music. I haven't had nearly enough of that in my life lately -- definitely due partly to COVID, but also just work.

Relationships: I wasn't really sure what I intended by including this as a bucket. Thinking it through now, though, I sense that a ring analogy works well here. 

• For my inner ring of closest loved ones, I want to prioritize time with them. Doesn't necessarily have to be in person, though that would be wonderful. I want to remember birthdays and anniversaries, talk regularly, give presents, tell them I love them, and share experiences that make new memories.
• For my close friends and family, I want the same thing...and recognize that life gets busy and everything can't be a priority. I still want to remember birthdays, talk maybe less frequently but regularly, and be fully present when I'm with them.
• For my local community, I want to get to know my neighbors and people I see regularly, support them where I am able, and again be fully present when I'm with them.
• For my professional community, I want to stay in touch. I know I'm going to lose the regular everydayness of going to work and seeing colleagues, but I'd like to maintain those connections I've made over the last 21 years. I am going to selfishly keep my personal email on the community of cutter(wo)men email distribution list when I turn it over to the next caretaker. I would like to tap into the community of local CG retirees in the local area -- goodness knows there are plenty in Wilmington. 

Travel: Oh my, the possibilities are endless! And yet, I know I'll have to actively plan to go places because otherwise it would be oh so easy to just blissfully settle into my daily routine at home and never go beyond 25 miles of Pond Place. 

• Plan at least one big (multi-week, probably international) trip a year.
• Write down a bucket list of places I want to go. I know it's in my head, but writing down things helps me.
• I already have tentative plans for this summer -- action packed with all kinds of fun adventures. Paddle boarding the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) from Norfolk as far south as I can go in about two months starting about two weeks after my Change of Command, then to MerleFest in the NC mountain foothills (I planned to go last year, and yep, COVID-cancelled), then a couple of weeks in Costa Rica with Greg showing me around his adopted home, then down to Peru with Greg for the hiking tour from Cusco to Machu Picchu and some time on the coast at Chicama, and then back to CR to help Greg make his move back to the States, and landing in ILM sometime before Thanksgiving. Yep, that'll keep me travel-satisfied for a little while!

Hobbies/Interests/Life-long Learning: Ok, back to this one. So Many Possibilities!! Especially since I still haven't tapped into my GI Bill, including the $5400 kicker which I vested in back in '99 when that was a thing.

• Write, write, write. I want to write. I want the freedom and the lack of pressure and the time to write. It might be this blog or it might be just a journal for me or it might be something else that I eventually even try to publish. But I want to write! I want it to be something I do regularly and can't imagine not doing.
• First round of classes I'm thinking about taking, with the possibility of various certifications: welding, massage therapy, permaculture design. Just for fun and because I can. Hmm, I see my privilege flaunting itself...
• Explore my entrepreneurial inclinations. I have a couple of hobby-to-business ideas rattling around in my head. Kombucha-brewing, granola-making, and upcycling old ODUs into bags are the top three. 
• Start a sourdough starter, try making sauerkraut, and get into bokashi composting. Explore the microbiome :)

Ok, so maybe there wasn't so much for that last one. But it feels good to get those things officially on the record.

** Step 3: Ready myself for the Ending by talking (writing) about what is ending -- there is *definitely* a blog post (at least one, maybe more) in this step.

In my next session, I will devote time to Step 3, with the intention of exploring what is ending. 

Steps 1 and 2a

31 Jan 2021

I looked and looked, and never did find the mission statement I drafted a while ago. Lost to the winds of life detritus, I guess. So this Sunday morning session, I'll write another one and then start on putting some goals in my buckets. 

When I couldn't find my original mission statement, I jotted down a few phrases that popped into my head about my values and how I want to live my life. As I wrote them down, they are: limit my ecological footprint, be compassionate toward others, mindfully and authentically, connection to place, grow and nurture my community. Seems like now it's just a matter of stringing them together with good grammar. 

"With mindfulness, authenticity, and lots of laughter, I will grow and nurture my community by helping others achieve their personal and professional goals and building my own strong connection to place. I will limit my ecological footprint and be compassionate toward myself and others."

I may continue tinkering with it. It's Very Serious right now. 

Step 1: Satisfied (for now)

On with Step 2a. I used the following identifiers for my buckets so I could start to untangle and make sense of my goals in retirement. Now that it's time to start actually verbalizing those goals, I realize that I haven't really determined the timeline for these goals. Are they short-term (maybe 6 months to a year after retirement), medium term (one to five years), or long term (more than five years)? Maybe that will be more obvious once I get them written out.

• Home
• Employment
• Physical Health
• Hobbies/Interests/Life-long Learning
• Finances
• Self Care
• Relationships
• Travel

Home -- this is so much about my connection with place. I've moved 15 times in the last 21 years, twice overseas. The longest I've spent in one house is four years, and during those four years, I made significant long-term improvements on my house and planted berries in my yard. For the last two and a half years, I've lived in apartments with negligible outdoor space. I want to know how the sun moves through the trees over the course of a year. I want to feed myself from my yard. I want to get to know my neighbors. I want to be an integrated part of the natural cycles of the land around me, instead of some loud-mouth know-it-all who dominates all the conversations in the room.

• Find my forever home: that place I want to call home for the next however-many decades I have left on this planet. And OMG!!! I made an offer, and it was accepted within hours on 1.57 acres on a high spot with water-access to Masonboro Sound (ivo Wilmington, NC) and a decrepit old house, beautiful ancient live oak and magnolia trees, and a pond! Oh, there's plenny work to be done on it, for certain...which leads me to my next goal. I close in less than 30 days! SO EXCITED! I go down to see it next weekend (um, so, yes, I bought it sight-unseen...what can I say? It's worked out well for me in the past...).
• Adapt my forever home to my needs and wants: I made a list (duh, obviously I made a list) of the things that I'd like my forever home to have, including a small, low impact house for Greg and me, maybe a second house for extended family, a tiny home just for fun and maybe to rent out AirBnB-style, a kombucha-brewing granola-baking commercial-certified kitchen, a workshop for upcycling projects, a fire pit, a screened porch, and a studio for yoga/meditation/writing/whatever. I mean -- 1.57 acres -- I'm pretty sure it will all fit, with some combination of a tree house, conex building(s), Allwood kit, and maybe onsite-harvested wood. And then the grounds -- a permaculture garden with annual and perennial fruits and vegetables, berry brambles and bushes, fruit trees, and if I get **really** creative, espaliered avocado and lime trees up against a south facing wall to see if I can baby them through the winter. And then there's the pond...I want to learn about the area's hydrology and fresh-water aquatic flora and fauna. Maybe a little fishing spot...?? Oh, and chickens...can't forget the chickens (maaaaybeeee camels...I have planted a seed of possibility with a neighbor...).
• Starting in 2022, host an annual gathering full of family and friends so we can share this beautiful, bountiful peaceful place with others. Make it a tradition that we look forward to with contributing traditions and rituals that feed our bodies and souls.

Employment -- by way of some damn good luck and my mostly frugal ways, I don't need an extra paycheck after I leave active duty. What I get paid in my pension just for waking up in the morning will cover my basic living expenses. I even have enough saved to cover a lot (but definitely not all! It's a long list!) of the "improvements" to our new place. So I'm kinda ambivalent about this employment thing. But then I start thinking about all the leadership skills and management abilities I gained after 22 years in a challenging operational environment, and I feel, not obligated necessarily, but some draw to use those skills to help other people. 

• Work on meaningful projects, things that resonate with me and support my mission statement, like food security, environmental sustainability and justice, individual empowerment, mindfulness, justice system reform.
• Be clear with myself and other that my time and skills are valuable. That may still mean a lot of volunteering, or doing work for less pay than my efforts may be worth based on who is asking and what their situation and ask is. 

Physical Health -- This one is a tough acknowledgement for me because I still think I can do whatever I want physically. Sad truth is, though, that I've put on about 15 pounds since I got to Norfolk, and my current lifestyle does not support my long term health and quality of life. I have long periods of being sedentary. My stress level is high, even for me. I eat well, mostly, when I'm at home, but definitely make the most of having cooks making four meals a day underway. 

• Incorporate more physical activity into my regular routine. Working out for the sake of working out doesn't appeal to me. Riding my bike to the grocery story, paddleboarding over to Masonboro Island, clearing brush and hauling wood -- those are all my kind of calorie burners! 
• Learn to surf! Greg has already offered me lessons :)
• Work on my sugar addiction. I've been not drinking alcohol (except the trace amounts that may be in my kombucha) for nearly six months now, and don't really miss it. I definitely don't have the same success with sugar. I wish I wasn't looking forward to seasonal jelly bean displays here in the next few weeks...

Ok, that's enough for today. I went a little over my allotted hour, but also took a break midway to fold napkins out of the dryer so they'd have a chance at laying flat. 

** Step 3: Ready myself for the Ending by talking (writing) about what is ending -- there is *definitely* a blog post (at least one, maybe more) in this step.

In my next session, I will devote time to Step 2a, with the intention of getting goals down for the rest of my buckets.

Prepping to Start Planning

24 January 2021

I have about six months left with daily responsibilities in the Coast Guard, assuming that VIGOROUS' Change of Command happens in late June/early July as expected. I'm starting to feel like that's close enough to take definitive planning steps -- which, every time I stop to think about what that means, really overwhelms me.

My goal today is to give myself a framework to try to untangle all the threads that are currently swirling around, knotting up my brain. 

I feel like I need to start with my overall goal, or my mission statement. What is important to me as a fundamental guide to who I am and how I want to live my life? I'm fairly sure I've written one down sometime in the last few years, but I'm horrible about picking up whatever random piece of paper or notebook or journal is closest to hand to get the noisiest thoughts out of my head as quickly as possible. I will look for it -- later. Right now, understanding that I want to have my mission statement as my basis of this framework is enough. 

** Step 1: Define (find) my mission statement

One of my mentors recommended actually writing down my top 3-5 goals for a bunch of different buckets, which seems so brilliantly obvious. I have all these different threads rattling around in my head, always crashing into each other. Bucketing them up will help sort them out and reduce the cacophony and chaos. And for many of them, they aren't goals, just random ideas or possibilities that I haven't thought through enough to know if they're goals I want to pursue. Maybe they're just ideas I want to learn more about. I'm actually going to take the time to do that now. Doesn't require me to get up from my chair or step away from my coffee.

** Step 2: Identify my buckets

• Home
• Employment
• Physical Health
• Hobbies/Interests/Life-long Learning
• Finances
• Self Care
• Relationships
• Travel

After listening to me talk about why I thought it was a good time to start working with her again on a regular basis, my coach recommended I look through William Bridges' work on change and transition. His six videos (each less than 5 minutes long) talk about the difference between change and transition, and break down the transition process into three distinct phases. He says change is the distinct and external even that causes us to go through transition (my retiring from active duty), while transition is the process of going through that change (understanding and adapting to what not having that daily responsibility will change how I live my life and think about myself -- what it means to me). Transitions have three phases: the Ending, the Neutral Zone, and New Beginnings. He mostly talks in reference to businesses going through transitions (mergers, acquisitions, etc), but squinting at it a little and cocking my head to the side, I can see how it also applies to this personal situation.

** Step 3: Ready myself for the Ending by talking (writing) about what is ending -- there is *definitely* a blog post (at least one, maybe more) in this step.

Step 4: I think this is a natural pairing with Step 2...maybe 2a, because the Neutral Zone is the temporary phase when new processes and structures are put in place to facilitate the transformation. I won't really be in the Neutral Zone until after Change of Command, when I'm still on active duty, but doing the terminal leave and admin time thing. In the meantime, though, here's my actual step 2a:

** Step 2a: Write down my top 3-5 goals for each bucket identified in Step 2. 

I'm not really going to go into the New Beginnings part here...though as a teaser, Dr Bridges says new energy and commitment take place when the transition is over, not when the change takes place.

** Step 2b: Identify at least one Action Item for each goal. 

I'm clearly channeling the reading I've done on Bullet Journaling and Get Things Done by David Allen in this one...but have seen the value of applying well defined and achievable actions against a goal. 

**Step 4 (for realsies): Commit time to these efforts. Because without scheduling the time for them, they're just good ideas. There -- added to my calendar, one hour every Sunday from 10 am to 11 am, for me to sit down and play with my retirement plans. 

I feel like something is missing here. Not sure exactly where it fits in. But it has to do with some physical acknowledgement of what is happening. Maybe it's Step 3a -- planning my retirement ceremony/party/celebration, and then Step 3b -- planning a celebration or acknowledgement of sorts on 1 October 2021, which is the first day of my actual retirement when I'm no longer on active duty. I've been thinking about what Step 3a looks like for months now -- again, just rattling things around in my head. Time to get them outta my head and into words...but it's really hard with not knowing what's going to happen with the pandemic in six months. Maybe think through a couple different scenarios: best case we can all get together because there aren't any more restrictions on gatherings and worst case we're still limited to gatherings of 25 people. 

** Step 3a1: Put into words what I want my retirement ceremony to look like. And then talk to the Project Officer so he's not stumbling around in the dark, looking for the right rock.

** Step 3a2: Put into words what I want my retirement celebration to look like under best case and worst case COVID scenarios.

** Step 3b: Put into words how I want to celebrate my first day of actual retirement.

** Step 3c: Put action items to each of the scenarios in steps 3a and 3b. 

Well, they're a little outta order as I wrote them. That's okay, though. Now I have a good sense of where to start. 

One last little detail to work out for my framework. How do I know what to do next, when I sit down each Sunday morning (or whenever else I decide to give it some time)? Maybe as I end each session, think about what the next session will start with. 

** Step 4a: "In my next session, I will devote time to..." 

In my next session, I will devote time to Step 2a, with the intention of getting goals down for at least half of my buckets.

The Next Chapter

written on 27 August 2020 

I decided last October (2019) that it was time for me to do something different. Looking back now, 10 months later, I realize I probably wasn't quite in the right head space after only a bare three months onboard a new ship with an entirely new leadership team trying simultaneously to rip off the bandaid of a new command vision and not completely disenfranchise the crew along the way. Every day was a slog of self-inflicted doubt and second guessing, uncertainty about how we were going to get through the next evolution safely, and oh yeah, day after endless day of shitty weather off the central Atlantic coast. 

Somewhere along that treacherous path, I realized there were quite a few mistakes in my past that I haven't yet forgiven myself for, and that I likely wouldn't be able to give important areas of my life that needed love and care the attention they deserved until I was no longer tied to active duty. I convinced myself I wasn't running away from things, but running towards a new vision for my life (I am still convinced that's true, 10 months down the road, even if I had many follow-on moments of doubt). 

We eventually returned home safely from that first patrol, all a little wiser about each other. Took me another three weeks to get on my boss' calendar to be able to tell him my intentions in person before my retirement request showed up in his email inbox. Seemed only fair. 

So now, I'm going to write about the road to retirement, and plan to publish it later. I want to honestly share my thoughts and feelings, without having to worry about what my crew thinks upon reading it. I don't need to share my doubts and worries in a forum that they need to wonder if my head is still enough in the game to do my job, which is to make sure they keep coming home safely, full of sea stories and successful operations. 

I also want a place to daydream about all the ideas I have for post-retirement ways to keep myself busy. I think the count so far is at least four viable concepts. 

Call It What It Is

Failure. I failed. I set an ambitious goal, and I failed to meet it. I was physically incapable of achieving what I set out to do. And I'm ok with that. I tried. 

In explanation -- the first planned event in my Epic Summer Adventure didn't work out as expected. Greg and I were going to stand up paddleboard (SUP) the Intracoastal Waterway from Norfolk to Manteo, NC, and then I intended to keep going solo as far south as I could get by mid-September. 

We lasted three day trips and one overnight camping and made it about one mile over the NC border. An old waterman in Rodanthe, NC warned me about the strong and steady southwest winds prevalent in July when I went to pick up my new SUP. It wasn't that I didn't believe him -- of course I did. Guess it was just one of those things I needed to experience for myself. And I thought maybe the winds would back off overnight, so I could just paddle early in the day, even before dawn if I needed to. 

It took us nearly three hours to go barely three miles on Monday afternoon from Pungo Ferry Landing Park to Sandy Point Campground on Knott's Island. And it was not easy paddling. I paddled pretty much as hard as I could without being able to take a break for an hour and 45 minutes during a two mile stretch that didn't have any protection from those punishing southwest winds. I started standing up, but quickly lowered to my knees when I realized how much sail area my body was creating. Then when my knees got sore, I sat down. Every time I switched position, I lost a little ground, ended up beam to the one-to-two-foot chop, and then had to struggle work my nose back into the wind. 

My shoulders ached and burned. My knees screamed at me. My ankles protested. My thighs cramped up. I think maybe my hair didn't hurt, but it was the only part of me that didn't. 

We made it to the pretty little campground, at which point our attitude about the winds changed. The breeze kept the bugs away. But they also stayed fairly steady at about 10 knots all night long. Didn't do much to help the Sound to settle down for another long day of paddling on Tuesday. When I got up in the morning to the heavy chop, I simply couldn't face the prospect of another day of contesting those winds. We called Greg's parents, who very kindly came to pick us up and take us back to Virginia Beach so we could adjust our plans so they didn't include 10 to 12 miles on a SUP each day. 

My Very Best Friend said, "Not a failure! Just a change of plan." I very much appreciate her positivity and support. And I'm still gonna call it what it is...failure. 

Calling it a failure doesn't mean it's a judgment on my self-worth or my moral character. It is an honest assessment of my physical capabilities and mental fortitude, which -- sure, doesn't feel great to know neither is as strong as I was hoping when I planned the trip. Now I know. 

I would rather plan and try and fail a thousand times (ok, that might get to be a drag...how about 10 times) than never dream and never plan and never try just because I'm afraid to fail. It's a Winston Churchill's man in the arena approach. It also goes along with my ability to be ok, if not comfortable with being uncomfortable. Growth happens when I take myself out of my comfort zone, and there is the goodness, the sweetness of life in that growth. 

So I'm taking from this failure a re-affirmation of my self-commitment to trying hard things, to dreaming big, to continually pushing myself into discomfort so that I can fully appreciate this one single life I have to live.

And, it's not like the adventure is over. This change of plans allows me to join up with my Aunt and Uncle on a 30-foot sail boat on a trip from Massachusetts to as far as we get south in the three weeks I'll be with them. Gonna learn me something about blow-boats!

Remarks

It's done and in the books. I have no more responsibilities in the Coast Guard, and am now unmoored from most of what I've known for the last 22 years. More to follow on the experience...For now, though, here is what I said at the ceremonies on Tuesday, 22 June 2021 -- or most of what I said. There were lots of pauses and some commentary on how hard different bits of it were to get said. Hard to take in air to speak when my throat was closing over on me.

Change of Command Ceremony Remarks

Distinguished guests, fellow COs, VIGOROUS crew, family members and friends – it is wonderful to see you all at today’s ceremony. And for those joining online – I wish you were here in person, but am so grateful you’re taking the time to be with us virtually.

Nearly two years ago at a ceremony eerily similar to this one but with a few key differences, I shared one of my favorite quotes attributed to Helen Keller. She said, “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.” This tour definitely offered that daring adventure – and so much more – and I am so grateful I got to share it with this crew!

We’ve put up with a lot. Even before the first 96 hours of our first patrol – which still brings shivers of dread when mentioned – Hurricane Dorian churned up a lot of chaos when we got kicked out of JEB Little Creek for storm avoidance in the middle of our first top end overhaul. It was super hectic then and I don’t think the pace of things has ever really slowed down.

I am continually impressed, even awed by your individual and collective ability to persevere through the gnarliest of challenges. The 20-foot head on seas on our way to Mayport for AVSTAN in January 2020 (before COVID was anything but a small story buried in the international news) – I still have a hard time picturing how the cooks manage to make meals for nearly 80 people in conditions like that – but they do it, and do it well. He’s not here right now – busy getting the shrimp cocktail ready for the reception – but I will miss CS3 Ferrer’s beans and rice topped with roast pork and a side of fried plantains. That and Taco Tuesdays always made my days a good bit brighter.

The sewage vent clog that backed up seriously gross nastiness into the Chiefs and Lower O heads while we were in AVSTAN. I probably shouldn’t go from talking about delicious food to sewage – but maybe it makes sense after all. EO, for all my word nerdiness, I am not sure I can adequately convey my thanks for all the heart and soul, time, energy, blood, sweat, and (well probably not tears – even though you admit to being sensitive but not as sensitive as our sewage system…) you put into your job. Your leadership, technical expertise, project management skills, ability to simplify your complex understanding of each and every engineering system to the crayon drawings I could understand, and bluntness were undeniably critical to VIGOROUS’ operational success and went a long ways to making the ship able to last the next decade she’ll need to stick around. You absolutely earned that VADM Perry Award for Engineer of the Year Afloat! I’m so glad the Service acknowledged the value of your contributions.

I suspect your response to all that is to deflect the accolades to your engineers. Engineers throughout the Coast Guard are well known for their ability to get sh-tuff done. And VIGOROUS’ engineers are no exception. I can’t count the number of hours our engineers spent making repairs, doing required maintenance, refueling, chasing gremlins, offloading oily waste, long after the rest of the crew had gone on liberty. And the gremlins – this ship sure did have more than her fair share of them. Yet, you engineers never gave up. Every time one popped out their aggravating head, you knocked it off and kept on cruising to the next project. The anchors are no longer known as “cantankerous” (get it – can’t anchor us) and “port-snickety” because of the Auxiliary Division’s efforts. DCs – how many times did you have to go digging after a steam line leak, in addition to your planned worklist? EMs, how much wrecked wiring did y’all trace out and replace after the water-jetting at drydock? And also working with Main Prop when we started having our generators’ issues (that’s both generators – VIGOROUS has a canny knack for letting us know when she’s done with patrol). I am impressed by your teamwork and rejection of the concept of giving up on something because it’s hard. And of course I could not forget to mention the engine room flooding response. I love the story I was told of then-MK3 Groll plugging the leak with his finger until someone showed up with the patching and plugging kit. 300 gallons of sea water in the bilge and a leaky synthoglass patch later, we were safely headed back into port to get it fixed.

I could go on and on about the engineers’ ability to come up with creative and ingenious fixes to the craziest problems VIGOROUS’ gremlins could come up with. Thank you, Engineers, for keeping the spinny things spinning and the lights (mostly) on. All the rest of what we do isn’t possible without your efforts.

One of the other accomplishments I’m most proud of is the impact we had on moving the entire cutter fleet into the 21st…or, hmm, at least the 20th century, with paperless navigation. I remember reporting to my first ship in 2000 – BOUTWELL had the old Vega laptop system installed, and the senior Quartermasters were, at best, skeptical of it. After learning that’s how most commercial ships navigated all the time, I simply couldn’t understand what was taking the Coast Guard so long to adopt a similar system.

So when the stars aligned – or rather CDR Pecora and ET1 Dunn brainstormed them into alignment after hours of nugging through practical applications of the new Commandant’s Navigation Standards, I jumped feet first into trying to get -751’s approval to take on the challenge. And now, four more classes of ships are authorized for paperless navigation, and 210s have blanket authorization from -751.

Thanks to ET1 Dunn’s technical expertise, LT Sohn’s hard work and practical approach to every challenge, CDR Pecora’s vision, and lots and lots of effort and attention to detail by the entire Navigation and ET divisions, we proved we could navigate without paper charts…and do it fantastically well. Some of my fondest memories on the bridge are of hearing “sweet fix” or “best fix” sung out from the plot team after laying down an especially accurate manual fix. I admit to some dark moments of stark doubt, like when we couldn’t get the emergency circuits, including the ones supplying power to all the navigation equipment, back from the emergency generator – I had crazy plans in my head of launching the small boat to guide us into GTMO with their installed SINS-II. I think that’s kinda right though – there should always be a contingency plan, no matter how crazy it sounds. Thank you, Operations Department for your willingness and dedicated work to move the Coast Guard forward a few leaps and bounds. And especially, OPS, for putting the 10 days you spent isolated in your cell – ahem – stateroom – enroute to Tampa for drydock to good use on the paperless navigation policy prototype report. I’ve had two COs from different classes of ships reach out to me in the last couple of days referencing that report, impressed with how detailed it was.

And Support Department – I’ve already mentioned how hard the cooks work, and their conditions. For the SKs and YN2, your patience with trying to do your jobs on underway connectivity is so very admirable. Especially when we were able to righteously spend $40,000 in 24 hours at the end of last fiscal year.

And to wrap up how awesome and amazing this crew is, I'd like to share what the last few days of our last patrol was like, ya know... after we got back underway once repairs from the major flooding in the engine room were complete.

We started out with 21 boardings in two days, taking full advantage of some absolutely beautiful weather about 120 miles east of Cape Cod in the scallop fleet. Both boats out, each with their own boarding team, doing drills back on the ship, and CIC continually updating their targeting list to vector the boarding teams to the best boardings. We even shook out a couple of violations from a very heavily regulated and monitored fleet. After two days of that, we exhausted good boarding opportunities, and headed west to duck into Long Island Sound to wait out some crap weather that was blowing in from the south and west.
OPS found us a cherry spot -- outside of three nautical miles from shore, not in a restricted area, but still offering some good protection from the wind and seas and swells. We expected to spend maybe a day or so there, and then come out to head west for a super cool transit up the Hudson River, visiting Lady Liberty and Manhattan.

We spent less than 12 hours in that super sweet spot. OPS called me at 5 am the next morning, Captain, I have some bad news. Yep, sure 'nuff, someone broke down back out where we had just come from, and we had a 220 mile transit to get back to them. Thankfully, they weren't taking on water, just broke down and in crap weather. We did the best we could getting out to them, surfing downswell in 12 to 15 footers. Knowing we'd get on scene after dark, we decided that we'd wait to take them in tow until the next day when it was light and the seas were predicted to settle a bit.

Seas were about 13 feet when we got on scene just before midnight, and thankfully abated to about 10-12 feet by first light, as we were setting up for the tow.

Ya know how, sometimes during shipboard evolutions, angels sing and everything goes exactly right? That’s what happened for us that morning…to the point that we even had a pod of curious humpback whales keeping an eye on things. I mean that literally – as we pulled up, one of the whales stuck their snout (?) straight up into the air enough to get their eyes out of the water and looked around like, “Hey guys, whatcha doing? Everything ok up there? You’re here to help, right?” They stayed with us for an hour or so, through about the first mile of the tow as we settled out on our long trackline back towards shore.

A number of our crew told me later that they really enjoyed and got a lot of satisfaction out of the tow, even though it wrecked our plans to transit the Hudson River and see the NYC sights. They took pride in how smoothly it went, how much everyone learned on deck from doing it in pretty bad conditions, and how we were the ones there to help the fishermen who ran into trouble. As OPS said, it was a pretty salty last SAR case. The F/V finally did get their engines back on line after about 20 hours of being dragged behind us. Watching how they were riding – just uck. We escorted them back to off of Martha’s Vineyard, and then turned south to the Chesapeake Bay.

This will likely forever and always be one of my favorite sea stories because of the absolute magic of the experience that being a part of this crew offered me.

For the families that make this all possible, thank you. It is your love and support, your keeping the household going, your sending emails and waiting patiently for that phone call when we sporadically get cell service, your welcome home, that keeps us going. You should be unspeakably proud of your VIGOROUS crew member. They are true professionals that do hard things well in a dangerous and demanding environment, and somehow make it look like just another day on the job.

And I’d like to especially recognize our Ombudsmen, Jen Matthews and Kate Atkins. Unfortunately, Jen isn’t able to join us today, but Kate, will you please join us on stage...

Kate, the Coast Guard would like to recognize you with a certificate of appreciation and give you a token of thanks for all the support you have given to your ship during your time aboard.

(XO reads citation)

It was a crazy year for most families, and knowing loved ones back home had y’all standing by ready to help gave me some comfort that we were doing what we could to support crewmember families.

A couple of shout outs to particular break outs of the crew.

-- First Class Mess: thank you for your leadership, your drive to make the hard work happen, and get sh-stuff done.

-- Chiefs Mess, and I’m going to include MPA in this group also for his wisdom and perspective: thank you for the robust discussions and for being honest with me. I absolutely value the fact that our conversations made me a better leader and helped me make better decisions for the entire ship.

-- the Junior Officers: y'all made the wardroom fun. Thanks for your positivity, energy, and dedication. I am so impressed with how far you've each come in your time onboard. You've turned your boundless enthusiasm for doing good things into so many actual good things done, learned, and shared. Thank you for being willing to learn, even when you didn't enjoy the lessons. ENS Frazer and ENS Domingo -- thanks for being such detail-oriented project officers, and doing all the hard work to make this ceremony today possible.

-- OPS and EO: I've said it before, and I'll say it always -- I won the Department Head jackpot with you two. Your expertise, your organization, your innate drive to do things the right way instead of the easy way, your friendship, your maturity, your fishing stories – though not the snake stories, and your willingness to both push back when needed, and use very small words and even crayon drawings for me to understand equipment casualties...VIGOROUS would not be where she is today...heck, the Coast Guard fleet wouldn't be where it is today without the efforts of you two gentlemen. Thank you.

-- To LCDR Tim Boettner and LCDR Chris Wildhagen -- thanks for all your hard work during our short times together. You both stepped into a tough situation and did so much more than keeping the train on the rails. Chris, thanks for jumping in the deep end feet first and making so much headway in learning all about VIGOROUS before this Change of Command. I know the ship, the crew, and CDR Waters are in good hands.

-- To Piero, if you're watching. I saw your sandstorm pictures a few days ago, and don't envy you that gritty, sweaty transit to Building 2. Thank you for all your hard work to carry out my ideas and for regularly playing devil's advocate. We made so much progress on the ship, and I'm grateful for your counsel and friendship through some incredibly challenging times.

-- Ryan, you've got a great crew. I know every outgoing CO everywhere says that, but it really is true here. They work hard, know how to have fun, and have given more to their jobs than I could have ever hoped for. I hope you can give them the awesome port calls and drug busts that I never was able to manage.

We didn’t do all we did by ourselves, of course. I’d like to thank LANT Area, LANT-37 and Cutter Forces for your support and guidance through some trying times. Tom Lowry, Jim Healy, and your team at the MEC Product Line were always there to take EO’s and my phone calls – even when you didn’t want to when our end of drydock coincided with the end of last fiscal year, and I nagged you mercilessly for money to keep the crew in hotel rooms for the last two weeks of the extension. Thanks so much to you and your team for keeping us operational and helping restore our materiel condition. Thanks to C5ISC for keeping the twidget stuff energized, and for being their every step of the way through our paperless nav prototype. CAPT Dash, your efforts to modernize the -6 world of work is paying big dividends for the fleet. Thanks very much to Base Portsmouth for your wonderful hospitality. You have always made us feel welcome. Thanks to my fellow COs – your advice and camaraderie were key in getting me through some of the darkest COVID days.

And to my family, thank you. More for y’all on Friday – for two reasons really. First today is about this wonderful crew, and second because I wanted to get through this without going through every tissue on the podium. Hugs to all of you.

And now, the inevitable...I have to read my orders...

BT

Retirement Ceremony Remarks

Rusty, CAPT Dash, thank you so much for your kind words today, your friendship over the years, and the great leadership you shared with me all those years ago on WASHINGTON. I am so grateful you were willing to take on making these remarks today, especially given how busy you are making amazing progress on C5I service throughout the Coast Guard. Danielle, it’s wonderful to have you here today also!

I had hoped by now I'd know what to say. How do I wrap up almost 22 years of service, 11 1/2 years at sea on seven ships in a reasonable amount of time so we don't have to sweat through our whites any more than absolutely necessary...and before the heavens open up and drench us.

There's so much ground to cover, so many sea stories, at least a couple of staff tour accomplishments that may leave a lasting impression, so many people to thank, so many shipmates to remember, so much goodness from my Community of Cutter(wo)men that I didn't even know was possible, so many family members and friends to choke out a thanks to when they can only marginally appreciate what their love and support meant to me through the years -- knowing that if I try to cover all this, I'll inevitably leave out someone, some very important memory, some major epicness. In light of all that, I offer this reflection in celebration of my career:

I am so grateful for all the time I was able to soak in that inexplicable alchemy of being part of something greater than myself, working with an ever-changing team doing a hard job in a demanding, dangerous, mind-blowingly beautiful environment that will rock your world while simultaneously offering a balm to the soul. We all talk about the amazing sunrises and sunsets, the sparkle of the Milky Way against that darkest of nights, the wonder of marine life, and all the physical beauty of the ocean. We talk about the wonderful people we meet and work with and the bond barely scratched by the term "shipmate." We talk about the meaningfulness of the mission, of rescuing mariners at sea, and being the responders where few people ever even get to go. We talk about the power of teams to get those dangerous missions done, the power of facing challenges with other dedicated professionals that help us all achieve more than we could alone.

When you mix all those ingredients in the bowl of a Coast Guard ship, the resultant experience is so much more than the individual parts. It becomes an experience beyond words, a quicksilver resonance that defies encapsulation in mere human expression, and vibrates in my bones making me feel indisputably alive and incandescent. Without it I will once again be a mere dirt-bound mortal.

Thanks, everyone, for coming out to share the day with VIGOROUS, her crew, and me. It means the absolute world to me. Now, let’s go eat shrimp cocktail and cake!

 

My Sea Going Addiction

On the recommendation of my Coach, I started reading Brene Brown's The Gift of Imperfection. I just got to the part where she talks about addiction. 

I've frequently said (only sort of joking) going to sea is an addiction for me. My definition of addition has been  knowing something is bad for me, and doing it anyway. And yes, I recognize that going to sea is not a healthy choice...I don't eat well underway (hello, carb fest! and ten days out of a port call, fresh fruits and veggies start getting very scarce, while there always seems to be a box of cake mix to unearth from dry stores...); I sleep in fits and starts, mostly...except when I don't, which is frequent when we're busy with operations; it is Stressful; I don't exercise the way I do ashore; and I'm away from many things, like friends and family, that I rely on for emotional support. That's a long list of healthy stuff I lose underway.

However, if I look at an addiction as Brown defines it, as letting numbing get in the way of my authenticity, then I think going to sea is the exact opposite, and may, actually, be a source of great resilience for me. While being underway is a great excuse for me to use overworking and perfectionism to avoid unpleasant things and feelings, the very nature of being underway forces me to deal with uncertainty and vulnerability regularly, and supports me with being a part of something greater than myself. 

As Dr Brown says, "...I'm convinced that we all numb and take the edge off. The question is, does our ________ (eating, drinking, spending, gambling, saving the world, incessant gossiping, perfectionism, sixty-hour workweek [or 168-hour workweek underway]) get in the way of our authenticity? Does it stop us from being emotionally honest and setting boundaries and feeling like we're enough? Does it keep us from staying out of judgment and from feeling connected? Are we using _________ to hide or escape from the reality of our lives?"

There is nothing quite like being underway to make me face uncertainty and vulnerability square on. One of the first sea stories I added to my personal anthology (I think I've told it before...once or twice) was in April 2000, when BOUTWELL was up in the Bering Sea, and the F/V ARCTIC ROSE sank with all 15 hands onboard tragically perishing. We were kept on-scene for search and rescue efforts for about two days, if I remember correctly. A spring storm swept through the area before we could run for cover. For about 12 hours, I wasn't sure if BOUTWELL herself would survive. The QMOW logged 75 knot winds (which anywhere else would be a hurricane) and 45 foot seas. I remember being on the bridge for about two and a half hours on the mid-watch with BOSN, standing at a height of eye of 55 feet, and looking up at the tops of waves...which means there were a few waves that were over 60 feet tall. We kept our bow into the seas at a 1/3 bell, powering up some of the steeper walls of water with the quick push of a 2/3 bell, hung at the crest of the wave for a few torturous seconds before plummeting down the backside of the wave to thunderingly crash in the trough before climbing up the next one. It was the most terrified I have been in my life. I prayed that night...something I hadn't done in years, and haven't done since. I had no control, I was full of uncertainty, and felt about as vulnerable as a human being can. Hard to hide from that reality.

More recently, DILIGENCE was leaving Colon, Panama, after pulling in for a brief stop for logistics during my first year onboard, I think because our helicopter was broken, and had to do a pier-side op test before being ok to use again (oh, that's right...I remember now...a hard landing torqued out the helo's limits and they had to reset them...or something like that). It was after sunset when we were finally ready to go. We had to spin around in a narrow channel to get headed the right direction to be outbound. The wind was blowing on the dock at 30-plus knots. Did I mention the narrow channel? And I think we were on a flood current, which would also force us back against the pier. I didn't want to coach because I wasn't sure my shiphandling skills were up to the task...which lead me to a dark place of questioning my abilities, questioning my fitness as a cutterman and a leader, questioning my career choice and my worth to the organization. OPS drove us safely out that night with finesse and skill, and I was jealous and felt weak and worthless...not because he had done such a great job, but because he did it with confidence and self-assuredness. I sulked and stewed for a couple of days. I eventually brought it up to my CO, combined with some other doubts I had about my abilities to be the kind of leader I want to be. 

I can think of at least two occasions on DILIGENCE where I used the experience of my care-taking my mother in the few months before her death to help crewmembers through their own family tragedies. I'm pretty sure I cried during both of those encounters, and didn't really care that they saw my vulnerabilities. That's what you do for shipmates. That's my authenticity. 

I think my pro dev sessions come from a place of vulnerability. I try to stick to topics I wish I had known when I was a junior JO. Things I learned the hard way. 

Last night I reread some of my posts from DILIGENCE. Posts about the heart-breaking beauty of the open water, the soul-nourishing sunrises, thunderstorms, sunsets, and star-choked night skies, the inspiration that comes from being part of a greater whole. It's not all uncertainty and vulnerability and terror and discomfort. Being underway offers an accessible approach to the divine. 

The one question I probably struggle with the most is "Does it stop us from being emotionally honest and setting boundaries and feeling like we're enough?" If I had one criticism for myself choosing to go underway, it's that setting boundaries while underway is hard for me. There's always work to be done. And even if, somehow, all the crises are at bay, there are still rules and policies and expectations about how I can act and be...because it's still work, even if we live there. I understand the need for those rules and policies and expectations, and struggle with how they confine my authenticity. Hello, uniforms...and going to bed with wet hair from washing it at night, and hoping it dries before I have to put it back up in a knot seven hours later. 

Ha! I was just thinking yesterday, as I was getting my weekly massage (reference my last post about massive gratitude for the amazing abundance my financial situation allows me to enjoy...), about how I miss being intentionally touched. I miss hugs from my friends. I miss sitting shoulder to shoulder with my sister, physically leaning in to her comforting presence. I miss the casual pats on the shoulder in passing by affectionate cousins, the hair ruffling my aunt can't seem to help, the standing arm in arm with a cherished loved one. Handshakes when meeting someone aren't enough. And here's some more vulnerability: I'm nervous about sharing this miss of touch...it feels like it could be easily misinterpreted. But it's important to me, so sharing away...

But isn't that the point? To see the challenges for what they are, see how they affect me, and decide if the trade off is worth it, and if I decide it is, to be okay with it. To find the strength to see myself through, and occasionally come back to see if that's still my truth. That's where the fullest expression of living my best life comes in..from fully experiencing, almost wallowing in the good, the uncomfortable, the sublime, the joy and the pain, the terror and uncertainty as much as the beauty and blessings. 

This quote from Theodore Roosevelt usually brings tears to my eyes and fullness to my soul, same as the Helen Keller quote on my blog page:

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

And reading this quote, I understand why one of Brene Brown's books is titled, Daring Greatly.

Two in one weekend...I'm on a roll!