Caught in the fading evening sun, this small sailboat glides past a large tanker unloading petroleum across the bay in South Portland at one of the tank farms. It seems like there's never a day goes by that there's not one or more vessels docked over there. My friend Peter's dad was a barge captain and pushed them up and down the East coast from Maine to Florida. I think I remember that he worked for Mobil. He was gone sometimes months at a time, enough to put some serious stress on relationships back home. I thought of him as sort of that cowboy of the open road, just on water. Like the cross-country big rig driver, it's a different life style that's for sure. Every day and night, you're someplace else, not at home. I'm always a bit envious when I see the captain of one of the huge cruise ships we have traveled on, 'dressed to a T' in his or her dress whites walking about the ship. What a life, I think. Traveling the oceans of the world, captaining a magnificent vessel and doing what you love. Then, I'm jolted back to reality. And I remember. It's work! * if it's fun, it ain't work!