Lady Landlocked

Stubborn is as stubborn does. (What does that mean exactly?) I fiercely refused to give in and admit that our beautiful sons could no longer stay aboard as we finished our final preparations for our beloved home to be safe on the open water. But, somewhere between the snowfall and the concerned call from my father I surrendered myself to the fact that the boys and I needed to abandon ship until John and the cats sailed to slightly warmer waters. Dante, especially, was losing his battle with a bad cold and I realized that perched on a cozy chair in front of my parent's crackling kitchen fireplace was where we needed to be.

Hauling bags off of the boat was bittersweet...ultimately a relief as I watched Blake and Dante's health improve at my parents. Now we have all driven to Virginia to be with my sister Christine, brother-in-law Sam, and two nieces, Catherine and Margaret, for Halloween festivities and general joie de vivre before our voyage.

John has had a revolving cast of great guys who have tasted the salt of the ocean and his tears. Today they are slightly South of Boston. We plan to rendezvous in Annapolis next weekend if all goes well...

My new digital camera arrived in the mail!!! Pictures finally will be forthcoming...hope that all this text alone has not been too DRY...or, as Blake loves to say with the authority of an ancient executioner, boooring!

MARINA MADNESS

If sharing communal showers, walking in duofolds down dimly lit docks, or dodging large piles of seagull poop does not sound appealing to your feminine sensibilities, let me be the first to inform you that a sailor's life is not for you! MANY times a day, I study my face in our sorry excuse for a mirror and watch for a crazy glint or corner drool drip that might explain just what I am doing in our 37 foot steel can which, actually is only about 27 feet, if you count, as I have been doing lately, livable space. Then I notice that I look younger and happier then I have in years. I remember that I am free of closets overflowing with plastic toys and drawers stuffed with ill fitting clothes. I am an adventurer on the high seas...waiting to taste freedom and face unknown dangers with an optimism only a mother of two young children could muster!

Let the previous paragraph be exhibit A that our lives at the moment are an emotional roller-coaster!

We are hoping and praying to leave the marina docks at dawn on Th. Today is a gloomy FREEZING rain that delights in creeping under our rain gear and giving us the icy grip. We are foiling this discomfort by escaping to our friends house tonight for a warm meal and great company. Oh...and they are also wise parents who have the perfect playroom in their basement...AHHHH CIVILITY!

Deluge Dread

If anyone in Portland is reading this, who also happened to have stayed up late last night, you know what I speak of is true when I say VOILA LA DELUGE! Since that torrential rain pounding on the windowpanes I have had an image burned in my mind of me in the cockpit, drenched to the bone, resembling a large soggy pile of dirty laundry with a furrowed brow and tearful eyes.

This obsession has manifested itself out of several fears....#1. That once soaked on a boat it is a trial to dry out completely. #2. I will have the dirty clothes of three males rising like, as one woman put it, "an accusation". #3. When the going gets tough I might not get going but, may prefer to curl up in the fetal position and cry.

I'm trying to wrestle these fears down with undeniable facts...#1. The sun does eventually come out, even in the middle of an ocean. #2. No one will have many clothes, so, good grief, how big can the pile really get? #3. Perhaps most importantly, I have handled adversity well thus far...

A. On our first shakedown sail, we lost our dinghy. After finding it, I almost fell overboard trying to retrieve it with a boat hook. I watched my husband leap off of the Vindhler to the small craft and become smaller and smaller. Blake then asked why his father was waving his arms over his head. I was figuring on him starting up the dinghy engine and catching up to us ...no problem. But, the starter cord had ripped right out of the motor thanks to the adrenaline filled gladiator pull he used. He now looked like a small blip on the horizon. All I said calmly as I turned our 37 foot vessel around in a heavy chop was "this is not good". When Blake and I approached, we heard him yelling..."Aim right for me...Hit me honey...HIT ME". The temptation was very strong not to make that final swerve to port (that's left for all of you landlubbers). After a safe rescue, Mom could do no wrong...at least for a few hours.

B. I have handled my battery of pre-voyage physicals and immunizations with relative good humor and a high threshold for discomfort.

C. I have survived running out of food and snacks for our children, with minimal freaking out, as we tried to pull up our anchor for three hours. I refused to cut our tackle when we discovered we were tangled up with two lobster pots. Instead, I had faith someone would come to our aid. Sure enough, a salty lobster boat pulled up and separated the mess in return for a half bottle of gin and some rum. The kids survived and I had a new found admiration for the many good samaritans of the sea.

I am going to sign off...

Those fears are, at least momentarily, down for the count!

HOMELESS

We are no longer homeowners in the traditional sense! Now that we have officially closed on our house, I am more and more eager to move on to the boat. However, she is not yet ready...she sits dry docked at a marina being worked on and readying herself for a new motor which goes in next week. We will be down to the wire for arriving at Portland Yacht Services on October 10th for our bon voyage party...

Meanwhile, I am still sifting through piles and preparing mentally at my dear friend's home...also the mother of Blake's best friend...all of which means we are having one crazy wonderful time.

Freedom to travel and explore has come at a price. But, we are feeling a slight delirium at the future prospect of no mortgage payments, credit card bills, etc.etc.etc...

Family and friends begin to become simultaneously terrified and excited as our departure draws closer. I start to have nightmares of pirates and canned spams as large as our boat...

As with any crucial moment in life, you ask yourself how you possibly ended up at this decision...at this adventure...at this finesse or folly...

A straight line connecting the dots never seems evident to me. It's more of a tangled, confusing, beautiful destiny ball that I hope one day to fathom.

I do understand that this journey is a rare opportunity to connect with my family and my self apart from the daily spinning of my suburban gerbil wheel. I've hopped of and am confused by that lack of routine even though it made me feel slightly sick.

Dreams that I had in my youth have also begun to resurface and I regard who I have become, how I define myself, in a new light. A longer, more honest gaze is less forgiving than the sideways glance which I used to momentarily throw.

Then again, maybe all of this sentiment has more to do with a mid-life crisis then with our journey...Referred to as the wrong side of forty by another woman is bound to put any sane female in to a funk...Of course, while men typically regress into adolescent behavior, we women use middle age as a catalyst for dream search and recovery missions, advanced self growth, and enlightened awareness...Right?!

So, bring on the boat, baby...I'm ready for my voyage to begin...

Of course, before we get to that point, I'm sure I'll have many more tangents and questions answered like...Why do they call the toilet on a boat the head...How is it possible to feed a fussy eight year old gourmand out of a can or freeze dried ration??? Will we smell like musty sneakers for days on end...Will Edna and Gigi look like slow moving sausages once they don their life preservers??? Can there really only be one captain...How will I survive my toddlers tantrums with no hot bath to run to????