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!
I read a book a few years back about a Canadian couple (both employed as freelancers/contractors) who decided to sail to the Caribbean for a year. Your posts remind me of their sheer delight in being aboard.
ReplyDeleteHi Anne! Thanks for commenting. It's refreshing to know someone is *reading* LOL! I'd love to know the title of that book. Eric is always looking to read sailing adventures, when we can't be sailing. And yes, it's pure delight being on the boat. We *love* it.
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