life aboard................from P

Living aboard a sailboat has been described as long stretches of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. My personal experience would require a transposition of that description. I would posit the following: A string of differing experiences ranging from crawling down into the engine area to look for a worrisome "smell" to sublime hours of just watching the water, the dolphin, the flora, the sun, the houses, combined with necessities of survival including what are we going to eat today and where are we going to sleep tonight, plus the high exhiliration and hard physical work involved in being moved quickly across the water by the wind and current, topped off with the excitement of what might happen in the next hour or next day. Whew!

This life really is about living in the moment. You really don't have much choice. It is both humbling and gratifying to plan your life around the forces of nature. And then change the plans. Sometimes we are sailing in a perfect breeze on a sunny day, and hours later we are getting beat up by high seas and driving rain. Decisions are made a moment at a time. If we have been living "on the hook" for 4 or 5 days we are ecstatic to get into a nice marina in an inviting town. After we have been in a marina for a couple of days, it feels to me like a huge relief to pull the lines aboard and get underway again. Like being freed from a cage. Maybe in 4 or 5 more days we will be ready to tie up to a marina somewhere again. Some towns are a "must see" such as Charleston and St. Augustine, and we have been pleasantly surprised by the lesser known places such as Belhaven, NC and right here in Eau Gallie, FL. When we do "go in" we very much enjoy walking the towns, having breakfast or lunch at a local joint, haunting one or two of the pubs, being tourists, sightseeing, and of course walking the marina to look at boats and talk to sailors.

When we are underway the conditions dictate the activities. If it is rough weather we are both focused on the visicitudes of the passage. Where is the next mark? The next bridge? The next inlet or safe anchorage? How do the engine gages look? Are we both dry? Does everything feel OK? Sound OK? If it is smooth and nice we can go on for 8 or 10 hours taking turns at the helm. I like to stay on the helm for 5 or 6 hours at a time. I am not sure what I do exactly, but I seem to stay totally entertained watching the water, checking the chart, watching the GPS, walking forward to look at the rigging and sails, listening to the VHF radio, and other really important stuff. K will take the helm for 2 or 3 hours or otherwise read, check the chart and guide book regularly to keep us straight, do crosswords, or just chat with me in the cockpit.

When we are at anchor in the evenings, dinner is a major event - always hot - usually grilled out or sometimes stir fried. Then we usually pull out the charts and cruising guide to plan the next day, listen to the weather reports, read, chat, or sometimes we can pick up a good digital signal and watch TV on the laptop. If it is nice outside we can often be found up on the bow looking around at the stars and lights. If we get weathered-in for a day or so, out come the cards or scrabble or triominos. After a full day of sailing sleep comes very easily unless we are at anchor and the wind picks up in the middle of the night (as it often does). This usually means a bouncy boat, slapping waves, banging halyards, and a misbehaved dinghy. Not much sleep when that happens. I have to crawl out of bed a few times to secure some noise maker, and check for anchor drag. Believe it or not, I enjoy all of this. It sounds strange, but I never feel that I am wasting time. It's not easy, in fact it is physically and mentally demanding. It's not all fun, sometimes things get very tense. But it is working for us. In fact, K and I have recently been wondering aloud.... how will we be able to adjust to the "normal" life again?

Games in the bunk on a cold day. You go first.

Being tourists ashore.

It can be tricky grilling over the gunwale. But I think I have only lost one chicken breast so far.