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When
the sun begins to sink into the horizon, the low bellowing of conch horns fill the air in honor of Triton calming the sea.
Once the last spark of daylight is extinguished, the haunting resonance of bagpipes begins to drift across the water.
Under a star speckled sky, sounds of soothing strumming, hollow drum beats and harmonious voices mingle with the breeze. Music
is omnipresent in Book Key Harbor. So many wonderful songs have been written that capture the spirit and essence of sailing.
There is something about the natural rhythms and poetic beauty of a sleek wooden hull bedecked with billowing canvas, drifting
unbounded over the vast blue ocean toward some distant harbor that inspires music. But I believed there was a much deeper
connection between seafarer and song. Upon reflection, I began to understand the intrinsic significance of music in this cruising
life. Don and I started our sailing adventures while living in Northeast Ohio. From May to October, we would end each
work week with a drive along the southern shores of Lake Erie to Sandusky where our Morgan, Points Unknown was docked amongst thousands of other vessels. We always began to shed the weekly stress with a stop at Mon Ami, where we joined the throng of weekend boaters dancing to the evening’s live entertainment. Whenever the band started
a rendering of ‘Mustang Sally’ (and inevitably they would as we came to discover that apparently, all bar bands
are required to play this song) we took it as indication that it was time for us to depart.
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From
Sandusky, we often sailed to Catawba, Kellys Island, or Put-In-Bay. A population stuck in latitudes with prolonged, frigid, sunless winters will, in summer, flock to their local islands via
sail, motor or ferry boat where they are encouraged to behave like drunken sailors in a fabricated nautical atmosphere. Live
music poured out of the plethora of bars and sticking to the ‘Mustang Sally’ departure rule, we heard a lot of
bands perform. These artists were hired to maintain the maritime theme, however they were also ambitious musicians who took
their music very seriously, striving to be discovered, to be worthy of Ohio’s reputation for being the center of Rock
and Roll, to be the next, famous mega-stars. The following year we moved aboard Re Metau on Florida’s Gulf Coast.
The live entertainment we encountered in these southern latitudes was – shall we say – far more relaxed. The artists
most often performed as duos or soloist; former bands dwindled down to the few who had retreated from higher ambitions and
found the end of the road in a relaxed, tropical climate. There were no more prospects for musical fame or fortune, but they
seemed content to make a few bucks off the weekly rotation of tourists wanting to escape in the beachy lyrics of Jimmy Buffett
and dance to the provocative beat of ‘Mustang Sally’. (Apparently this is a federal requirement, not just a state
regulation.) Don and I have acquired a sizeable collection of music recorded by professional artists. Having one speaker
for every three feet of boat length signifies music’s integral part in our lives. Throughout our cruising years, we’ve
bought tickets and attended a few big production music festivals. We’ve purchased several CDs from some extraordinarily
talented bar bands. We’ve contribute a buck or two at a time to many gifted street musicians playing everything from
sophisticated sitars to empty buckets. We’ve even pity-tipped some very awkward armatures for their comical (albeit
unintentional) entertainment. (Our favorite was a solo guitarist with a karaoke machine who murmured each song’s lyrics
with a very prominent Asian accent, often forgot the words, and appeared to suffer from severe stage fright. We definitely
had to leave before his rendition of ‘Moustain Sawwy’ sent us into uncontrollable fits of laughter.)
The
intention behind today’s music has many facets. To some, it is used as a vehicle for acquiring fame and fortune. Combining
talent and a carefully crafted persona produces a commodity that can generate a lot of money. To others, it is used as a medium
for a message. Uniting powerful lyrics to rousing rhythms influences the masses and has the ability to make significant changes
to ideas and behaviors. To others still, it is simply the expression of one’s art; the opportunity to take the stage
and be noticed. But to the majority of modern musicians, no matter their level of ambition or intention, it is an occupation
with financial gain at its core. Music has evolved into a profession. Once we arrived at Boot Key Harbor, music took on
a more ancient objective. Prior to modern times, music throughout the world had been a communal activity; all members participated
in a unique cultural harmony to recount their history, connect to their spirits, and heighten their survival advantages through
tribal bonds and rituals. We discovered many of the boats in our aquatic haven had gifted acoustic guitarists, djembe drummers,
and harmonica players onboard. They gathered together in a neighbor’s cockpit, assembled for impromptu concerts at a
Chiki hut on shore, and always invited everyone to join in no matter what their talent or ability. They played the
sailing songs we all loved, because those melodies were a reflection of our experiences, dreams and goals. They sang
the stories of mariners who had crossed that vast blue sea before, conveyed the devotion we held for our ocean home and
for the vessels with which we relied upon to carry us as we wandered. Each measure charted a course to future voyages and
distant harbors, the rhythms mirrored the waves that swayed our souls, each note like a knot bound us together in our watery
sanctuary.  Music is a uniquely human trait. It is a phenomenon that has occurred throughout the world and has a great deal of
cultural value to our species. But to a sailor, music has remained as ancient as traveling by wind. Don and I heard the harmony
in Boot Key Harbor, we recognized the melodies, we were moved by the rhythms, and we were encouraged to reconnect with our
nomadic tribe. We have opted to remain for a little while – even when some sailor plays ‘Mustang Sally’.
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