Heading South

The days dissolve in  ordered disarray.  John and I strive to maintain plans yet, the hours  laugh at us as they unfold according to their own hidden wishes.  The weather, too, changes as it desires.  The blissful balmy breeze of Thanksgiving gave way to thirty mph gales that screeched like harpies later that same night.

We are still so in love with each other and the excitement of the journey as we head for the Carolinas...However, we continually  pray for more patience and grace when the boat's walls shrink in on us...
We also continue to meet phenomenal people.  Thanksgiving day, as we prepared to search out a canned turkey, the owner of the marina we were anchored off of came in his boat and like an angelic apparition offered us free showers and a Thanksgiving feast at the marina.  Blake and Dante raced up and down the docks with other "boat kids".  Seldom have we met people so kind and giving.  They treated us like family and in true form, we feasted!

They also gave us the inside scoop on some free docking in the beautiful city of Portsmouth...right across the river from Norfolk...home to an incredible fleet of navy ships.  We are resting here until Monday morning when we will depart early and head for North Carolina.

I think we are beginning to look more like live aboards...ragged sweaters and carefree unsteady saunters...for me it finally begins to feel normal.  

Annapolis

www.flickr.com/photos/familyinabottle

The long awaited reunion finally arrived...the boat looked the same...no small miracle considering all of the men who had been living aboard...John looked completely transformed.  Bearded.  Bemused.  Beautiful.  I felt like Alice descending down the rabbit hole as we departed Cape May.  The 14 hour motor sail to Chesapeake City only deepened my sentiments of confusion.  Crossing the Delaware Canal at midnight was surreal.  I would have sworn I was dreaming except for the fact that I couldn't stop shivering.  John and I spoke of many things...too many things...childcare challenges...middle age biting....love not fading...and we followed the little white lights that led us to the city dock around 1:00 AM.  We spent the day searching for moments of surprise.  Beautiful evening picnic of pizza on the town gazebo...another grueling 9 hour motor sail to Annapolis the next day...we were all singing the diesel engine blues!  I am still perplexed at how quickly the children and the felines have adapted to this lifestyle...it seems it is hardest for me.  I desire to be barefoot, tan, and carefree yet, I am still bogged down by financial worries and tote bags filled with all sorts of nonsense.  Slow shedding of things in every port is easing the process of my freedom.  Like a snake I'm just taking the time to emerge into my new skin ...Boat people are full of personality...shooting sparks of splendor whenever they speak...truly like they are from a different planet all together. You are dubious I know, but I'll soon send some photos to prove my point!

We all took showers today...Annapolis actually has 1.00 showers reserved for sailors... FABULOUS!!!
French fries from PIPS  tasted like manna in the desert (before they tired of it)  and now Blake and I are ensconced in a magical coffee shop City Dock Cafe owned by a man with infinitely kind eyes named Gordon.  AHHHHH.  Life IS beautiful when you take the time to breathe deeply and aim for the middle.

WAITING

Asked to name one of the things that I detest the most, I would not wait a moment before shouting at the top of my lungs, WAITING! Ironically, that has been my life's paradigm these past three weeks. Women are instinctual waiters...we have waited for men to return home from the sea, from the wild, from the wars. We have waited months in pregnancy for our bodies to prepare for birth. Sometimes, we find that we have waited years for someone to change who never will. Is patience possible without surrendered waiting? Surely, patience can be active and not only passive?!

John and our two cats have arrived safely in Cape May, NJ this afternoon!!! While I am delighted at their speedy progress, I wish that we all could have been aboard as the Vindhler pulled in to that beautiful town. My parents are driving us there on Friday...we will take a few days to readjust to family survival in a living space the size of my sister's deck. Hmmmmm.

The kids got the H1N1 vaccine today. Very bizarre four hour affair. With only 400 doses, many were turned away. The whole thing was very Twilight Zone...complete with a groggy 7:00 arrival. In the front of an already long line stood a nondescript man in a nondescript suit who we were told was giving out the "numbers". He wrote down our names, how many children were with us, and told us we were number 86. Shortly before the clinic was set to open, he moved down the line bossing people about, making us all move back, checking the order of our names. A few minutes later, a mousy woman with a megaphone told us to remain calm...we would all be given a number as someone moved down the line. "WAIT A MINUTE", shouted one irate parent and then another...what about the man with the list..."WE HAVE OUR NUMBERS!" The guy with the "list" had disappeared and the clinic staff knew nothing about him. See what I mean? Very weird. If you go to any clinics look out for those bossy nondescript types with spiral notebooks asking for your name.

My next post will be from our boat...FINALLY! My sister, brother-in law, and their two beautiful girls have helped me deal with "The Great Wait"  with much patience and laughter.  The boys and I feel so loved by their kindness...My parents also have been remarkable during this time of waiting.  I love my family... Miss my friends so much...please send me an e-mail or comment.

Rebecca

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????