Life is strange, and I am odd. You'd think after nearly 50 years of living aboard and sailing offshore that I'd be able to do a simple thing that most boat owners do without a thought. But I can't. I don't. Confession: Leaving my Hughes 38, Wild Card, for more than a few days fills me with fear and trepidation. It scares me more than sailing across an ocean-at least my boat is safe, sound, and within my control when I'm offshore. We'd just finished up sea trials with our new mainsail in the Strait of Malacca, and Carolyn, my wife, was putting on the sail cover. While coiling up the spaghetti of loose jib sheets and control lines in the cockpit, I mused internally on her unusual silence. We've been together for so long now, 39 years of living and cruising aboard, that we are, as I like to joke, "two sides of the same orgasm." To which she always responds, with harried exasperation, "Organism!" In any event, there was something on her mind, and she was working up the courage to share it with me. So when we were both below and I was noting our engine hours while she was puttering in the galley, I decided to help her out. "What's up, babe?"