I'm sort of known in the comedy community as "Smooth Sailing," just 'cause everything always goes great. I've always had success at every turn. Everything has gone well for me. I've never had a project fail. Everywhere I go, it's "What's up, Smooth Sailing?! How are the seas today, buddy?" I'm like, "Calm as can be!"
It takes a minimum of six people, working in close harmony, to successfully flush a nautical toilet. That's why those old ships carried such large crews.
Being hove to in a long gale is the most boring way of being terrified I know.
The other side of the globe is but the home of our correspondent. Our voyaging is only great-circle sailing.
It looks like frozen snot.
Money can't buy you happiness, but it can buy you a yacht big enough to pull up right alongside it.
. . . arranging the journey was so difficult. Getting home again was much easier.
There is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.
Only the guy who isn't rowing has time to rock the boat.
Most sailing ships take what they call trainees, who pay to be part of the crew. The Picton Castle takes people who are absolutely raw recruits. But you can't just ride along. You're learning to steer the ship, navigation; you're pulling lines, keeping a lookout; in the galley you're cooking.
If you're not getting close to capsize, you're provably not pushing hard enough
Spirits rise as the sails fill. . . Gone is the sea's glassy surface, and with it the terrible glare. Close the hatches and ports! We're sailing again!
Of all the things that man has made, no is so full of interest and charm, none possesses so distinct a life and character of its own, as a ship.
. . . strike the words "white male" from all your constitutions, and then, with fair sailing, let us sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish together.
You do not ask a tame seagull why it needs to disappear from time to time toward the open sea. It goes, that's all.
The moral earth, too, is round! The moral earth, too, has its antipodes! The antipodes, too, have their right to exist! There is still another world to be discovered--and more than one! Set sail, you philosophers!
You saw Britain back in the early days of sailing ships. They were the sea power, the controlled the seas and they had colonies all over the world and then you can look at history and watch the way that their empire kind of crumbled. I certainly don't want that to happen to the United States in space technology.
Our desire must be like a slow and stately ship, sailing across endless oceans, never in search of safe anchorage. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, it will find mooring for a moment.
Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.
It is time to be old To take in sail.