August 3, we went down to Sturgeon Bay to see the tall ships. Well, rather to see a tall ship, because it was the last day of the event and only one of the four was left—The Pride of Baltimore II. Still, it was worth it; I was dressed piratey (because of course I was), and we got to take a free deck tour. Living on the Great Lakes for most of my life, the tall ships have been a recurring theme, and while on deck I started thinking that, since there are no trains up here but there are plenty of boats, maybe it’s time I start doubling down on my romanticization of water travel. As in, where I used to use train and hobo imagery in a lot of my poems, maybe now I should replace it with boat and pirate/sailor/stowaway imagery. I’ve already put some of that in my poems, but as I said, maybe I should double down with it. Right as I was thinking that, as if to punctuate it, the old steam tugboat that was docked nearby let off its whistle, and oooh, if it didn’t sound just as romantic and sweetly melancholy as a train whistle.
[from a journal entry, 8/16/25]