Dick's story of struggle, survival and hope in overcoming the impact of cancer struck a chord with Latitude 38 Publisher Richard Spindler. His story about the courage and determination Dick derived through clinging to his lifelong dream of cruising has already been an inspiration to other sufferers. (CLICK HERE TO READ IT FOR YOURSELF.) Sharon Drechsler
I am so thankful to Latitude 38 and Richard Spindler for writing this, my story. I have already had several responses from fellow cancer survivors that make it all worthwhile. Here's an excerpt from one of the particularly poignent responses I received:
"Thank you, for your awsome story in Latitude 38 this month, it has inspired me even farther to continue my current track. The reason this story means so much to me is that I had my last chemo treatment for throat cancer approximately 7 weeks ago. My wife and I have been living on our 47 foot wooden ... ketch. We have been actively engaged in getting ready to cruise extensively, but the cancer was a severe setback, making me question all of my decisions. My throat has healed very well to this point and I am eating by mouth most foods that can be macerated or blended to a consitancy of mashed potatoes. I can almost swallow a pea without choking, it does continue to improve but I still have a feeding tube. Your commitment to sailing/cruising has inpired me to continue with my life long dream. Thank you. "
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WHAT WERE WE THINKING?
In mid-2006, while anchored in a quiet cove at Catalina Island, we looked at each other one morning and started talking about our future. It didn't take us long to reach the conclusion that the stars were all in alignment and it was time for a lifestyle change. So in short order, Sharon quit her job and started her own public relations firm to afford her more flexibility, we put the house in Scottsdale on the market, and we plopped down a deposit on the vessel that we hope will be our home and carry us to distant ports in the years to come.
LIVING THE DREAM......
To be sure, 1958 would prove to be a watershed year for me. If you were a white, middle class suburbanite, life was easier then. The Korean War was over and the Cold War, while chilling, didn’t seem to directly affect our lives. The biggest problems we had were that Beaver Cleaver couldn’t behave and Lucy seemed to go out of her way to aggravate Ricky every Wednesday night, but it was always okay, because Father Knew Best.
But something larger was forming in my life, for that was the year that my parents decided to send me off to the Catalina Island Boys Camp. It was here, for the first time, that I would experience sailing. The camp had a fleet of Snipes, a small two-man boat that I quickly learned to race around the buoys at Howland’s Landing. And while the camp had numerous activities, including archery, shooting, horseback riding, arts and crafts, and more, I quickly became obsessed with sailing, forsaking all other endeavors to be on the water, with the wind miraculously pulling me along.
Upon my return from camp that year, I was absorbed with everything sailing. I started spending my Saturdays at the old newsstand outside Thrifty Drug Store in Studio City where I grew up. I read everything I could get my hands on during that winter. A plan was formulating in my head. I started saving every dime I could and worked spare jobs to further my goal. That next summer I cajoled and pleaded until my parents finally agreed, reluctantly, to send me back to Catalina Island Boys Camp. I knew a lot more about sailing by then, and I was anxious to hone my skills against the older boys at the Camp.
When I returned from the early summer session, my vision was clear. I had saved enough money, and during my research, I had stumbled across a kit for a Sabot that was just within my financial reach. Armed with just enough cash and knowhow, I convinced my dad to help me order the boat. Three weeks later, boxes started to arrive. I had an unfinished wooden hull, brass fittings that, to me, looked like diamonds, and a fresh white, crispy sail that would crown my achievement when the project was finished.
I already had a lot of experience with fiberglass in those days. Spending our summers in a rented house along the Old Malibu Road, I had built a fiberglass skim board and had repaired numerous dings proudly earned while dodging the rocks at Herb’s Beach on my Hobie surfboard. Herb’s was a local surf spot for the locals that lived along the Old Malibu Road, and while there, I had also made the acquaintance of Bob Walters, a clever fellow who had managed early retirement by buying a beachfront apartment building and who seemed to spend all his time either surfing, or more likely, building, fixing and sailing Malibu Outriggers. He taught me a lot about fiberglass boats, so confident that I had the requisite skills, I set out to fiberglass the hull and become the proud owner of my first "yacht."
So that’s where the dream began. Over the years I have owned numerous sailing craft, but the purchase of this brand new Catalina 470, with the time to enjoy it and actually conjure up realistic dreams of visiting sparkling South Pacific lagoons or beating across the equator to the clear skis and awe inspiring view of the Southern Cross is the culmination of a lifelong quest, and one I dared not ever think could really happen.
HERE ARE A FEW OF OUR FAVORITE SEA SONGS ... BUT DON'T WORRY, I WON'T SING!!!
Dick's story of struggle, survival and hope in overcoming the impact of cancer struck a chord with Latitude 38 Publisher Richard Spindler. His story about the courage and determination Dick derived through clinging to his lifelong dream of cruising has already been an inspiration to other sufferers. (
To be sure, 1958 would prove to be a watershed year for me. If you were a white, middle class suburbanite, life was easier then. The Korean War was over and the Cold War, while chilling, didn’t seem to directly affect our lives. The biggest problems we had were that Beaver Cleaver couldn’t behave and Lucy seemed to go out of her way to aggravate Ricky every Wednesday night, but it was always okay, because Father Knew Best.
HERE ARE A FEW OF OUR FAVORITE SEA SONGS ... BUT DON'T WORRY, I WON'T SING!!! 
