"Maritime history is the broad overarching subject that includes
fishing, whaling, international maritime law, naval history, the history of
ships, ship design,
shipbuilding,
the history of
navigation, the history of the various maritime-related sciences (oceanography, cartography, hydrography, etc.), sea exploration, maritime economics and trade, shipping, yachting, seaside resorts, the history of lighthouses
and aids to navigation, maritime themes in literature, maritime themes in art, the social history of
sailors
and passengers and sea-related communities. There are a number of approaches to the field, sometimes divided into two broad categories: Traditionalists, who seek to engage a small audience of other academics, and Utilitarians, who seek to influence policy makers and a wider audience."
Maritime icons are plentiful and ubiquitous. I hesitate to say I have a favourite. They proliferate when living by the sea, either naturally or by design. If I were to make a choice it would involve a preference for the sea, the sand, lighthouses and sailing ships. But closely followed by ship's bells, seaside residences and sailing hardware generally.
This afternoon after my ritual bicycle ride I ventured as usual to the sunny beach to scope the horizon over the emerald sea and to plant myself leisurely on a secluded chaise longue. It was an uncommonly windy day today but nonetheless warm enough to sport only swim trunks. I lathered my face with Neutrogena sunscreen and soon lapsed into reverie. The seagrasses railed behind me in the dunes. The powdered sand hissed across the beach. The sun tingled.
Last week we had our teeth cleaned. Yesterday I went for a haircut. This morning it was manis and pedis. Polished, cut and clipped! I have started using body lotions regularly, something I never did. My favourite for everyday use is Gold Bond Ultimate with Aloe - soothing and instantly dry. I have to exhaust my supply of alternate products I've already bought before collecting another. Such are the demands by the sea. Aside from contemplating what to have for dinner there isn't much else that preoccupies us here. Though it must sound extraordinarily dull we have descended into that state of old age wherein we fashion that our days are actually busy. When we left the nail salon after ten o'clock this morning we were obliged to attend our usual haunt for breakfast - steel cut oatmeal with raisins and whole milk, fresh fruit, pancakes, bacon, sausage and eggs. That eliminated the morning! The bike ride, sun tanning and subsequent visit to the hot tub and pool brought the afternoon to a close. After I returned to the apartment, it was laundry and preparing dinner. So it's not as though we do nothing at all - though certainly it doesn't meet the standards of commercial production. And I don't give a damn! My capacity for anything other than this modest indulgence is doubtful and ill-advised.
The closest I came to intellectualism today was to ask, "What is the question?", by which I meant that the answer depends entirely upon what one is attempting to accomplish. Setting aside the very human hang-up with a degree of approbation by one's cronies, the inescapable absorption has to be nothing but what one personally enjoys. Having to elevate such native attraction to surmount the unadulterated simplicity of one's response is simply wrong.
Maritime icons are plentiful and ubiquitous. I hesitate to say I have a favourite. They proliferate when living by the sea, either naturally or by design. If I were to make a choice it would involve a preference for the sea, the sand, lighthouses and sailing ships. But closely followed by ship's bells, seaside residences and sailing hardware generally.
Last week we had our teeth cleaned. Yesterday I went for a haircut. This morning it was manis and pedis. Polished, cut and clipped! I have started using body lotions regularly, something I never did. My favourite for everyday use is Gold Bond Ultimate with Aloe - soothing and instantly dry. I have to exhaust my supply of alternate products I've already bought before collecting another. Such are the demands by the sea. Aside from contemplating what to have for dinner there isn't much else that preoccupies us here. Though it must sound extraordinarily dull we have descended into that state of old age wherein we fashion that our days are actually busy. When we left the nail salon after ten o'clock this morning we were obliged to attend our usual haunt for breakfast - steel cut oatmeal with raisins and whole milk, fresh fruit, pancakes, bacon, sausage and eggs. That eliminated the morning! The bike ride, sun tanning and subsequent visit to the hot tub and pool brought the afternoon to a close. After I returned to the apartment, it was laundry and preparing dinner. So it's not as though we do nothing at all - though certainly it doesn't meet the standards of commercial production. And I don't give a damn! My capacity for anything other than this modest indulgence is doubtful and ill-advised.
The closest I came to intellectualism today was to ask, "What is the question?", by which I meant that the answer depends entirely upon what one is attempting to accomplish. Setting aside the very human hang-up with a degree of approbation by one's cronies, the inescapable absorption has to be nothing but what one personally enjoys. Having to elevate such native attraction to surmount the unadulterated simplicity of one's response is simply wrong.
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