by Skipper Mary
When the people freaking out in the windowless room asked Paul Onstad, "What do you
need?" his reply was, "A pot of coffee and a large ashtray."
A software/chess guru and freelance code troubleshooter, Paul flew around the world working for clients ranging from the European Space Agency to a mail order cheese company to a nuclear power plant. Concerning the last one, Paul, on the phone once confided, "I think they're in some kind of crisis."
Not the words one wants to hear about a nuke plant, but if anyone could fix those programs, it was this Mac-loving, cantankerous and brilliant guy. He was a bachelor as well, once famously telling a woman he was dating, who'd complained about the state of his shower, that the mildew had as much right to be there as she did. He was most animated when describing his long-running battles with the IRS and the phone company.
As for the space agency, it was back in December 1989 that Paul decided to fly from its facility in Germany back to his Minnesota home for a break and I invited him to drop by Marquette on his way west. Young mother of an energetic daughter and a magazine publisher, I had forgotten what night life was about—and it was New Years.
We went to 10 O'Clock Charlie's where Trout Revenge was playing. Paul was feeling low as he was tired and had a toothache but we were determined to have fun. This consisted of drinking beer and trying to figure out the codes for the airports listed on his digital watch with a map of the world in its screen.
MSP and DET were easy, but a few on the other side of the planet stumped us, particularly those in the South Pacific.
Then Jeff Eaton, city editor for the daily, walked by and I told Paul, "This guy works for the Mining Journal. He's real smart." Having run into Jeff a couple times at daycare he seemed up for the challenge of figuring out obscure airport IDs.
He couldn't get them all, and Paul and I left before midnight.
A couple days later Jeff phoned to fill me in on the missing airports—my kinda guy!—and to ask me out.
As to how all this relates to sailing I guess it boils down to good design—the wholeness of a chess board, a computer program, a sailboat. And how, at the end of the day, good design allows one to go deep, with or without a pot of coffee and a large ashtray.
As for how all this relates to love, by Valentine's Day that year, Jeff and I had started a voyage together that didn't need a three-letter code for its destination, but that 16 years later did arrive at a boat called Revision.
Happy Valentine's Day Everyone! 