Burns was making the point that humans are no different than mice (or any other animal) in that our lives can be changed in an instant by forces beyond our control. But a mouse has no sense of future, it lives only for the moment. Whatever happens, it just goes on with its life, in blissful ignorance of what lies ahead. We humans, on the other hand, plan for the future and, as a consequence, feel grief and pain when our expectations are shattered. Such is the plight of humans -- we prepare for the future as best we can knowing full well that s**t happens and we will have to deal with whatever comes our way.

Five years ago I began planning my retirement cruise. During the first three years I accomplished pretty much what I wanted. My primary focus during that period was to ensure I was in the financial position to retire in the Spring of 2003 at age 55. That worked out as anticipated -- May 15, 2003 was my last day of work.

But my plan began to go awry late in year three. In February, 2001, I learned there was a 2/3 probability I had prostate cancer. The problem was I didn't know for sure; examination and test results were not definitive. After the initial shock wore off, I concluded it wasn't that big of a deal and adopted a "watchful waiting" approach. I came to terms with my mortality a long time ago and if one has to have cancer, prostate cancer is the type to have. If caught early, long term survival rates are excellent.

Nevertheless, it introduced an element of uncertainty into my planning. I had narrowed my search to two boats I was very, very interested in and was on the verge of traveling to Maryland and Florida to check them out in person. But I was now reluctant to plop down the tens of thousands of dollars I had budgeted for the purchase and refit. Among other things, I wanted to keep the money in reserve in case I needed it to pay for medical treatment. My doctor had scheduled additional tests and a biopsy so I deferred my purchase plans a year and instead spent the summer of 2001 cruising the Erie Canal on my existing boat.

In the spring of 2002 I learned my mother had terminal cancer. (It runs in the family; my father died of cancer at age 53, six months before his planned retirement date.) I set aside all my plans and other obligations so I could care for her. She died in late June. My original plan had been to spend the 2002-2003 school year getting rid of my stuff. Instead, I spent most of my spare time handling my mother's estate and getting rid of her stuff.

On March 10, 2003 I had prostate surgery. Two months from retirement, I found myself without the boat I wanted and with a bunch of possessions I didn't want, trying to figure out a way to depart on my retirement cruise as planned. I did; all it took was serendipity and an attitude adjustment.

Four years ago, a 27' Luger Fairwinds was donated to a local non-profit organization which is headed by a friend of mine. He knew of my cruising plans and tried to talk me into buying the boat. I declined for a variety of reasons. No one else wanted to purchase the boat either so, several times a year since then, Jon has ritually inquired whether I wanted to buy the boat and I have ritually replied that I was not interested. I was so not interested I wouldn't even accept his invitations to look at the boat.

I visited Jon about a month before my surgery. We spent several hours looking at the wooden boats he has collected over the years. As usual, he asked if I wanted to buy the Luger. This time I surprised him and said "Let's take a look at it." I immediately saw why it hadn't sold. I didn't particularly like its lines, high freeboard, and swing keel design. I thought the hatches were vulnerable. I had my doubts about whether it was self-righting as the sales brochure claimed. But more than that, it was a project boat.

The Luger was a kit boat and the donor/owner had done a fairly good job finishing it off. All the essential pieces (mast, boom, rigging, rudder, bow pulpit, stern pushpit, lifeline stanchions, etc.) were there and appeared to be in good shape. But one of the rollers on the trailer had bent and a bolt fastening the roller to the support had worn a small hole in the hull. What equipment there was all dated from around 1980, the date the boat was originally purchased. The VHF is a bulky, obsolete unit. The depth sounder has a flashing display. The outboard is a 1978 9.9 hp Chrysler. There were four sails but, like everything else, they also appeared to be about 25 years old. There was no head. The interior was in decent condition but in total disarray. I knew the boat hadn't been in the water for at least four years and I suspect it has been in storage longer than that.

I shook my head, made some polite comments, and once again declined to buy the boat. Then Jon tried to tempt me. He offered to sell me the boat, E-Z Loader trailer, and equipment (as is, with no guarantees, of course) for $1,000. Heck, I pay more than that for a season's slip rental and the money would be going to a good cause. Nevertheless, I walked away from the deal.

But it stuck in the back of my mind. While recuperating from my surgery, I reflected on how my circumstances had changed in the past two years. I mulled over all the variables and my options. The Luger was as different from the bluewater boat I had planned to purchase as one could get. Yet it presented a way I could come close to meeting my original timetable for departure. I would have to adjust my first year's itinerary and sacrifice a bit of comfort and safety, but there were compensating advantages.

So I came up with Plan B: I would be fully recovered from my surgery by May, 2003. Jon would deliver the Luger to my house early that month. Assuming I got a clean bill of health, I would spend six to eight weeks patching the hole in the hull and making a few other necessary repairs and upgrading the boat. I would launch for a two to four week test cruise in July, make any needed changes upon my return, and begin a Great Loop cruise in August or September.

Current status of Plan B: I have fully recovered from my surgery and currently appear to be cancer free, although I will have to return to Michigan at least a couple of times during the next year for follow-up exams and tests. The boat has been delivered to my house and I have started the refit.