Saturday, February 25, 2012


I want to state clearly for the record that I have never and will never accept advertising on Boxing the Compass.  I also have never accepted any gifts from companies or vendors, excluding of course, the occasional gift from bloggers or readers with whom I have become friends.  This blog is barely anything at all, but it would be nothing without readers.  The comments, the emails, the photos, and meeting new people have made this silly little thing (and all blogs are silly little things) a surprisingly wonderful and enjoyable micro-hobby.  Without all of you, this would not be worth it, and I am dearly thankful for every single eye that reads this, like it or hate it.

I will never exchange favorable content for money or gifts from marketeers hoping to slip in a message or two.

I rarely decide not to publish comments that seem legitimate, and unless they represent a conflict of interest or are gratuitously vulgar or harmful, they go up.  Advertisements poorly disguised as comments generally get deleted.

Also for the record, I support all blogs and bloggers regardless of their content.  If you dislike a blog and opinions expressed, just stop reading it.  Simple.  Besides, like punch bowls, variety is always more interesting.

Please keep reading, commenting, occasionally insulting, and meeting up with me in various cities and towns.  I truly love it and enjoy what it has become.

The main blog is here.

Thursday, November 17, 2011


During college, I occasionally sailed out of Boston with one of the school deans.  On one heavy-weathered autumn day, we were joined by Plum.  The seas were battering us soundly somewhere near Calf Island while I was at the helm, Plum at the main sheet, and the dean fussing around on deck and below.  I remember the two of us casually eating sandwiches (despite the weather) and generally joking around while the wind and seas tossed the 30-footer (the dean having just donned his yellow foulies while below).  When the dean went to the leeward rail to ease the jib sheet, Plum and I were still too self-absorbed with our own humor to ease the main and bear away, and the entire rail went awash, dean and all.  He held fast to the sheet, but he was thoroughly baptized with green sea, and the goofing off suddenly stopped.  Like my younger brother, Plum was always an excellent and steady helmsman, but when we got wrapped up in our own dumb antics, all bets were off.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Soldiers from ADG

A few from the package.

 Jr.'s favorite