Call Me Ishmael

Call me Ishmael.
Some years ago--
never mind
how long precisely--
having little or
no money in my purse,
and nothing particular
to interest me on shore,
I thought I would
sail about a little
and see the watery
part of the world.
It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship.
--Herman Melville (first lines of "Moby Dick ")

Powell Plateau from Serpentine Rapid (top)
Escalante Butte (middle)
Zoroaster Rapid (below)
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