Authors: Jr. William F. Buckley
Atlantic High (9 page)
And of course Dick was quite right. Someday I might just attempt a floating seminar aboard a sailboat crossing the Atlantic Ocean. As ever, one might learn from Plato….
(Scene, the cockpit, midday.)
RICHARD
: You see, my friend, when I asked you before what piety was, you didn’t tell me enough; you said that what you are doing now—prosecuting your father for manslaughter—was a pious action.
WILLIAM
: Yes, and what I said was true, Richard.
DANIEL:
Pass the ketchup
.
RICHARD
: No doubt; but surely you admit that there are many other actions that are pious.
WILLIAM
: So there are.
CHRISTOPHER:
Hold it where you are, Richard. The light’s perfect
.
RICHARD
: Well, then, do you recollect that what I urged you to do was not to tell me about one or two of those many pious actions, but to describe the actual feature that makes all pious actions pious?—Because you said, I believe, that impious actions are impious, and similarly pious ones pious, in virtue of a single characteristic. How can you distinguish between the pious and the impious?
EVAN:
Impious sucks—how’s that, Richard?
WILLIAM
: If that’s how you want your answer, Richard, that’s how I will give it.
RICHARD
: That
is
how I want it.
TONY:
Aren’t you going to eat your sausage?
WILLIAM
: Very well, then; what is agreeable to the gods is pious, and what is disagreeable to them, impious.
RICHARD
: An excellent answer, William, and in just the form that I wanted. Whether it is true I don’t know yet; but no doubt you will go on to make it clear to me that your statement is correct.
REGINALD: IF
it turns out William’s statement is not correct, Richard, I’ll see you on the four
A.M.
watch
.
WILLIAM:
(ignoring Reginald)
Certainly.
RICHARD
: Come along, then; let’s consider what we are saying. The action or person that is god-beloved is pious, and the action or person that is god-hated is impious, piety being not the same as impiety but its direct opposite. Isn’t that our position?
DANIEL :
No. Our position is Latitude 38 degrees 42 minutes north, Longitude 27 degrees 11 minutes west
.
WILLIAM
: Yes, it is.
RICHARD
: And the definition seems satisfactory?
WILLIAM
: I think so, Richard.
EVAN:
Count your silver when he says that, Richard
.
RICHARD
: Haven’t we also said that the gods are divided, William, and disagree with one another, and feel enmity toward one another?
WILLIAM
: Yes, we have.
RICHARD
: What sort of disagreement is it, my good friend, that causes enmity and anger? Let us look at it in this way. If you and I disagreed about the question which of two numbers was the greater, would this disagreement make us hostile and angry with each other? Shouldn’t we quickly settle a dispute of this kind by having recourse to arithmetic?
REGINALD:
Maybe I can help? I went to M.I.T
.
WILLIAM
: Certainly.
RICHARD
: Then what would be the subject of dispute about which we should be unable to reach agreement, so that we became hostile to one another and lost our tempers? Very likely you can’t say offhand; but consider, as I suggest them, whether the required subjects are questions of right and wrong, honor and dishonor, good and bad. Isn’t it when we disagree about these, and can’t reach a satisfactory decision about them, that we become hostile to one another (when we do become hostile)—both you and I and all the rest of mankind?
REGINALD:
Stand by to come about. Toss Anthony the winch handle, Richard, and grab the sheet winch
.
WILLIAM
: Yes, that is the sort of disagreement, Richard, about the subjects that you mention.
RICHARD:
(panting as he tails the sheet)
And what about the gods, William?
WILLIAM
: The what? I can’t hear with the mainsail luffing.
RICHARD:
(shouting) The gods! the
G-O-D-S. If they do disagree at all, won’t it be for just these reasons?
WILLIAM
: Quite inevitably.
RICHARD
: Then on your view, my worthy William, it follows that the gods too hold different opinions about what is right, and similarly about what is honorable and dishonorable, good and bad; because surely they would not be divided if they didn’t disagree on these subjects. Isn’t that so?
WILLIAM
: You are quite right.
DANIEL
:
I don’t see why. They might be divided because they don’t like each other
.
RICHARD
: Then does each faction love what it considers to be honorable and good and right, and hate the opposite?
WILLIAM
: Certainly.
EVAN:
Assuming they’re Republicans
.
RICHARD
: But according to you the same things are regarded by some of the gods as right and by others as wrong; I mean the things about which they dispute, and so are divided and fight one another. Isn’t that so?
WILLIAM
: Yes.
RICHARD
: So apparently the same things are both loved and hated by the gods—that is, the same things will be both god-beloved and god-hated.
WILLIAM
: Apparently.
RICHARD
: Then by this argument, William, the same things will also be both pious and impious.
WILLIAM
: Perhaps so.
RICHARD:
(smiling)
Then you didn’t answer my question, my talented friend …
EVAN:
Let’s go over that one again, Richard? Don’t you agree, team?
(CHORUS)
Yes! Yes! Again! Again!
And then Van gave me
his
disappointing news. He had been living in London with his wife and three children (John is only four) for ten years, and was repatriating to the United States. He had to undertake a mission to Tokyo before the whole family got into the QE2 for the return voyage. So he would have to leave the ship at the Azores. The thought was very nearly unbearable, as Van is the source of unparalleled gaiety. Already I had assimilated the disappointment of traveling without my sister-in-law “Bill” Finucane, the devoted den mother of our first voyage (her husband was ill, and I could not even ask her). In any event, on April 21, 1980, another memorandum goes out:
| MEMO TO : | Reggie Stoops, Danny Merritt, Tony Leggett, Christopher Little, Van Galbraith, Dick Clurman |
| FROM : | WFB |
Random notes re The Crossing…. I have listed you beginning with those who are going all the way, ending with those who leave us first. To demystify the above, Clurman leaves us on reaching Bermuda, Van on reaching the Azores.
The
Sealestial
(iron rule: pronounced Celestial by anybody who intends to board and stay aboard) will be docked at Yacht Haven, to which we should repair by cab.
We will set out for Bermuda at 10
A.M
. on Friday, May 30. It is not known whether we shall have to sail for an hour or two for the benefit of helicopter photography. If so, we shall be returning to St. Thomas to pick up Christopher Little, the cinematographer, and the sound man. The latter two will be sailing with us as far as Bermuda, disembarking there. We plan a documentary one-hour television program based on the first leg of the trip, supplemented if necessary by home-movie shots of especially exciting events from legs two, three and four.
| Leg one: | St. Thomas to Bermuda |
| Leg two: | Bermuda to Horta |
| Leg three: | Horta to São Miguel |
| Leg four: | São Miguel to Marbella |
I calculate arrival in Bermuda late Tuesday evening, June 3. We will tie up at St. George’s, and bring
Sealestial
into Hamilton Harbor Wednesday
A.M
. I have reserved the dockside at the Princess Hotel where I have also reserved a suite, two bedrooms, one living room. The beds will be for Stoops, Clurman, Galbraith, and me, lest the younger members get out of training. We will depart Bermuda Saturday morning, June 7.
We should arrive in Horta on Tuesday, June 17.
We will leave Horta on Wednesday, the 18th, and cruise to Sao Miguel, with intermediate stops, arriving Friday the 20th.
We will leave São Miguel on Monday, the 23rd, arriving late Saturday, June 28th, in Puerto Banús, Marbella.
For the benefit of those of you inclined as I am to the natural sciences, some figures:
St. Thomas is at 18-22 N., 64-56 W. St. George, 32-24 N., 64-42 W.
—Distance, 842 miles (nautical) at initial heading of 000 deg. Horta is at 38-32 N., 28-40 W.
—Distance (from St. George), 1,785 miles at heading of 67 deg. São Miguel is at 37–33 N., 25–27 W.
—Distance (from Horta), 163 miles heading of 110 deg. Gibraltar is at 36-09 N., 5-21 W.
—Distance (from São Miguel), 966 miles at heading of 88 degrees.
I have an extensive memo on safety from Reggie. But I shall wait to remit an edited version of it until I speak with Dr. Papo on his return from Antigua early in May. At that time I will have the opportunity to question him about what gear he has and what he hasn’t. You should bring your own foul-weather gear and boots. All luggage should be in duffels.
Watch captains will be Reggie, Danny, and Tony.
Assistants will be Van, Christopher, and Dick. I’ll make up a duty roster with variable combinations. Four hours on, eight hours off, with standby duty by the watch that has been off duty the longest.
No one is to sleep in the saloon, which will be the decompression chamber for watches going off duty.
Everyone will infinitely oblige me (which is Very Important) by keeping a loquacious diary from which I will draw in putting together the book to finance this extravaganza. I will supply hard-cover diaries, but if you are addicted to a particular kind of notebook, please bring it.
Van Galbraith will serve as meteorological officer, and will acquaint himself with the vessel’s Weathermax and keep a weather log.
When Van departs, Reggie will take over that responsibility. More in due course.
It doesn’t pay to arrive at your vessel too soon before a departure, because, as in so many other matters, the Parkinsonian principle will apply, namely that enough things to do will turn up to fill the time available to do them. The trick is tunnel vision: tell Danny that you need a size N spare battery for the Hewlett-Packard 41C, and if such a thing exists or can be flown over in time from Puerto Rico, he’ll have it there. Try to find something specific for everyone to do. Make as few collective rendezvous as possible, but these should be firm. “We
all
meet at my suite at 7
P.M
. At what time do we all meet at my suite, Tony? Very good, Tony. 7
P.M.
is not 7:30
P.M
., is it, Reggie?” Of course, when you say things in that tone of voice, it pays to make the schoolmasterliness hyperbolic, in which case it is all accepted in good humor. I mean, accepted in good humor by the kind of people I sail with, who are all splendid, having in common their recognition of my unique qualities.
And we made it worth their while to be there at 7
P.M
. because Reggie, Dick, and I had undertaken to provision the wine cellar of the
Sealestial
. This is very serious business. On the one hand, money is very definitely a consideration. Anyone can provision a wine cellar successfully by averaging ten or fifteen dollars per bottle. My aim was to average $3.50 per bottle, and I can report that superb wines were drunk for twenty-nine days, at least by those who were not, at the relevant moments, emptying their stomachs rather than filling them. But as we all know, at three to four dollars you can with some effort get some of the best and with very little effort get some of the worst wines in the world, and at St. Thomas there is a most extraordinary profusion of the worst wines in the world. At any rate, at 7
P.M
. we all gathered in front of twenty bottles of wine, half of them white, half red, for a grand tasting session, the results of which, on a point system of one to twenty, are faithfully recorded in my journal. My grading system was ostensibly democratic; and it was, in that everyone’s vote was recorded. However—especially since no one else could see—I simply threw out the anomalies. At least, the negative anomalies. I tasted first, and secretly recorded my vote. If I gave wine a ten and someone then gave it a four, I’d throw out that four. But if I gave a wine a ten and someone gave it a seventeen, I’d taste it again, thinking that perhaps I was mistaken, that the wine had a delayed and highly positive reaction.