31 March 2012
When I was a kid, I remember waking up on summer mornings and leaping out of bed with excitement for the day to come. Then I grew up and my days got longer and my nights seemed to get shorter and not long enough. Once the kids came along, sleep became a precious commodity, every sleeping hour to be cherished.
Now, on the boat, I open my eyes and when I see daylight I rejoice. There is so much to do, places to go, wind, water and sun to be enjoyed. This weekend we adjusted to some less than ideal weather conditions; went kayaking in the rain and endured a wakeful night at the dock with thunderstorms and thirty knot gusts, feeling like we were sleeping inside a washing machine on the heavy cycle.
And we loved every minute. We drank champagne at anchor and listened to the hiss of the rain on the water like a silver chain falling on marble. A big drum showed itself to us and disappeared with a splash. Our first sunset sail on the river was a great success with Mrs. Pelican offering her regards and the cormorants hanging out on the green marker like slouchy teenagers.
Willadine came out of the water easily with the help of Conway’s truck. But it just didn’t feel right. She doesn’t like being out of the water any more than we do. We’ll be back, Willadine, we’ll be back!