It was a dark and stormy night. My second major one in a row riding my little sailboat 100 miles off of the California Coast. It took a whole lifetime and 3 years to prepare for this adventure, selling everything that didn't float, saying Aloha to a bunch of friends, and Adios to a few others who thought I was inconceivably crazy.

And here I am, so worn out and tired of being continually afraid that I'm contemplating just stepping off of the back of the boat. I just can't decide if I should do it buck-ass-naked or wearing my big orange gumby survival suit with my floating EPIRB on a tether.

If I do it the first way I just disappear and my empty boat may or may not be found as part of a bigger mystery.

If I do it the second way there will most likely be a Coast Guard helo plucking me out of the water within an hour, a great ride on angle blades, and about 30 minutes later I'll be enjoying warm tater-tots at their air-base. But that route is going to involve a bunch of explanations and paperwork.