Phil Merrill, the Skipper Who Was Rarely Becalmed

Despite his millions and fancy titles, Merrill retained a childlike quality that made the bluster sometimes endearing. Last month, feature writer Brooke Lea Foster and a pal ran into Merrill while headed out the door to celebrate the friend's 30th birthday. Merrill cautioned them not to become "boring" adults. Most people start acting mature around 40, he told them, but he still felt like a teenager inside. "Make sure you still go out and play," the 72-year-old counseled. "I do. You know what I mean? I really do."

This rare combination of intellect, drive and playfulness made him at once irritating, lovable and irresistible to many of Washington's most influential names. He had friends from every corner of the world; guests at a June 4 party at his Eastern Shore home included the Cheneys, Colin and Alma Powell, University of Maryland President Dan Mote, former CIA head Jim Woolsey and lawyer Brendan Sullivan.

"You really get to know someone when you're sailing on a ketch in the middle of the ocean," says Bill McSweeny, a friend and sailing buddy for 25 years. "He was a great companion. He had a wonderful range. Dorothy and I are moderate liberals, and he was a great conservative. Somehow we could always find an outspoken middle ground. You could argue about issues. With Phil, it was always fun to really get down to the nitty-gritty and hug and kiss at the end."

About three years ago, Regardie was in Merrill's office and asked, "Phil, what makes you tick?" "He looked at me, and he got this tight smile on his face and he said, 'Tick, tick, tick, tick,' like 'You're never going to find out.' "

Perhaps the only people who completely understood Merrill were his wife, Ellie, and their three children. He was devoted to them, and they adored him back -- although they could never quite persuade him to talk less and listen more.

"I was always most impressed by how much his wife and children loved him," Conconi says. "I've spent a lot of time in Washington around powerful people who have sacrificed their families in this obsessive need to be elected or appointed to something. Here is a man who achieved great position of power and a fortune, and yet had a very normal family and very normal family life."

Merrill was on the Eastern Shore last weekend, on his boat on a perfect sailing day, when he disappeared.

"It's truly a great loss," McSweeny says. About four years ago, the two men were standing on a boat deck together, putting out to sea. "He looked up at me and said, 'Isn't this the most wonderful way to live?' "