The speech was ready. He knew he'd be emotional, so he'd jotted a few things down in advance. Now where were the shoes? It'd been a year and a half since he'd worn them, but he scrounged them up and tugged them on. For months and even years, Reid Stowe had been planning for this moment, and now, on a breezy afternoon in the heart of New York City, it was time to emerge from the cabin of his tired, well-traveled, 70-foot schooner, Anne, and close the book on the longest, strangest voyage—on a couple of different levels—of all time.