My mom, a memory

Anne G Ellison 1978 Bahamas

Funny, I joke referenced mom in my first Panbo entry nearly four years ago. I’ve become a blogging fool since, but still don’t know how personal is too personal. Many of you have become friends, which is wonderful, while others are passing through in search of marine electronics nuggets, which is fine too. But if you’re in that latter category, you might just want to come back tomorrow, when Panbo will be fully back in action, and on topic.

Helping my mother struggle through her last days was why I went to New York in early December, and why I haven’t been giving Panbo my all. But mourn not for either of us. While things did not go smoothly—as I’ve learned is often the case—mom was ready to depart this life, and our family was ready to say goodbye. Ninety one years was a hell of a run, as she would have told you, and the finale will be a classy party detailed to her wishes.  
  So please don’t trouble yourself with notes of regret. Instead, share with me the joyful moment caught on film above. It’s March, 1978, and the good sloop Alice is on passage from Nassau, Bahamas, to the Abacos. My wife, the photographer standing on the cabin top, is five months pregnant with our first child, and mom’s first grandchild. There’s a lot to be happy about, though a fair part of my crazed grin is having just caught that dolphin (using the home built trolling rig seen bolted to the bumpkin aft). Fresh fish on a boat with no refrigeration is a treat indeed. I recall enjoying pan fried filets before we’d even anchored in Hope Town, and jars of seviche later. But when I look at this picture today (
bigger here), what I so appreciate is my mother’s willingness—at nearly 60, yet—to jet off into unknown and venture out on the ocean with her somewhat wacky boy. She was a pretty cool mom.

Ben Ellison

Ben Ellison

Panbo editor, publisher & chief bottlewasher from 4/2005 until 8/2018, and now pleased to have Ben Stein as a very able publisher, webmaster, and editing colleague. Please don't regard him as an "expert"; he's getting quite old and thinks that "fadiddling fumble-putz" is a more accurate description.

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