Acceptance Speech 2018 I have been writing for sixty years. Sailing for fifty years. And published for more than forty. Of all my words, I am confident ten will outlive me. I hope more will, but of: A sailor is an artist whose medium is the wind, I am certain. They have been used on t-shirts, greeting cards, photographs, paintings, countless websites that collect quotes of sailing and the sea, even an ad for women’s shoes. I don’t quite understand that one. Perhaps in coming years every now and then someone will happen across those words and wonder who Webb Chiles was and find more of my words. I am pleased to be here this evening. I am pleased, and a little surprised, to be anywhere this evening. Age 76 and the year 2018 are numbers from science fiction. Though frayed by time, I believe that I am still good, that I am not yet used up, that I can still do more. That I have grown old is unexpected. My father and both my grandfathers died before age forty. Yet I who took the greatest risks have now more than doubled their lives. That might have been due to chance, though I do not consider myself lucky. But it also might have been because I planned and I prepared to the extant of my resources. I never did anything at the last minute. And though I took risks, I never took an uncalculated risk. Of my circumnavigations I believe that my first, most of my second, and my current sixth, were cutting edge. In each I sought a new experience. I did not want to be like an old rock star forever singing the songs of his youth. I wanted to sing a new song, and I think that GANNET and I have. I have owned three great boats. Two of them small: CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE, an undecked 18’ Drascombe Lugger yawl; GANNET, an ultralight Moore 24; and RESURGAM, a Sparkman and Strevens designed She 36. I have great affection for small boats, who if well designed and built can do so much more than most believe possible. Eternity is long. Our lives as brief as a butterfly’s cough. I believe that they are redeemed by moments of joy. I have known countless such moments sailing small boats across oceans. I thank you for this medal and I wish you sailing joy.

Acceptance Speech

2018

I have been writing for sixty years. Sailing for fifty years. And published for more than forty. Of all my words, I am confident ten will outlive me. I hope more will, but of: A sailor is an artist whose medium is the wind, I am certain. They have been used on t-shirts, greeting cards, photographs, paintings, countless websites that collect quotes of sailing and the sea, even an ad for women’s shoes. I don’t quite understand that one.

Perhaps in coming years every now and then someone will happen across those words and wonder who Webb Chiles was and find more of my words.

I am pleased to be here this evening. I am pleased, and a little surprised, to be anywhere this evening. Age 76 and the year 2018 are numbers from science fiction. Though frayed by time, I believe that I am still good, that I am not yet used up, that I can still do more.

That I have grown old is unexpected. My father and both my grandfathers died before age forty. Yet I who took the greatest risks have now more than doubled their lives. That might have been due to chance, though I do not consider myself lucky. But it also might have been because I planned and I prepared to the extant of my resources. I never did anything at the last minute. And though I took risks, I never took an uncalculated risk.

Of my circumnavigations I believe that my first, most of my second, and my current sixth, were cutting edge. In each I sought a new experience. I did not want to be like an old rock star forever singing the songs of his youth. I wanted to sing a new song, and I think that GANNET and I have.

I have owned three great boats. Two of them small: CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE, an undecked 18’ Drascombe Lugger yawl; GANNET, an ultralight Moore 24; and RESURGAM, a Sparkman and Strevens designed She 36. I have great affection for small boats, who if well designed and built can do so much more than most believe possible.

Eternity is long. Our lives as brief as a butterfly’s cough. I believe that they are redeemed by moments of joy. I have known countless such moments sailing small boats across oceans. I thank you for this medal and I wish you sailing joy.