New Years and warm tears

This morning when I woke, there was a magical transition going on between night and day. A handover from darkness to light. The full moon, weary from his long night shift, sat at the water’s edge, sagging ever so slightly, ready to slip in. And when he slipped away so quietly, the sun called my attention to the other side of the sky, bringing up the new day. I felt a tingle, the privilege of the early riser, to witness something grand and divine that happens every day.

Of course I was not awake of my own accord, in normal circumstances I think it’s obscene and unnatural to be up before the sun! But this morning my mother left the building. Or the boat to be more accurate. We barreled along to shore in the dinghy with her luggage in tow, and handed her over into a pink car, and a tired looking cabbie who was getting off night shift. She has begun the day long journey on buses and planes, back to the bitter cold of home.

A few days ago I stood by a shuttle bus, choking back the inevitable hot tears as we also said goodbye to my son.

These are the realities of living ‘somewhere else’. We live hundreds and at times thousands of miles from family, but the moments we have together are special. They are held together in a finite number of days, a holiday, a visit. They can be calculated on a calendar but not in our hearts. There is no earthly definition for that kind of love. 

And love it, we did. Great holiday. We’ve been living on Shiloh for three years and finally at least some of the family have seen our home and experienced a snapshot of our lifestyle. I really hope it was fun. I know we’re not going to create any converts in my land lubbing family, but at least they had fun. No seasickness, no problems with the quirks of boat life (limited water supply, must dinghy to shore, wakes from boats, side on swells). Go family! 

We’ve made it down to Key West and it’s the kind of place everyone loves. You just gotta. It’s a milestone as the Southernmost (is that even a word?) point in America. Of course as we cycled around the town yesterday we saw the Southernmost café, the Southernmost bar, the Southernmost hotel and even the Southernmost beach hotel. So everyone is milking that for what it’s worth. Key West has a million restaurants, bars, café’s, drag shows, beaches, busker shows, and people. It’s the people. Weird and wonderful sums it up. Everyone should come here at least once. Preferably during their FantasyFest!

It’s the end of a season, of a lot of bucket list visits under our keels, and a finale with family. Couldn’t have asked for a more amazing 2014.

And 2015 is a blank canvas with so many adventures to be written. We have graduations and new babies in the family and in the meantime, sailing adventures to places and countries new and old.

So my tears today are joyful though sad. We’ve chosen a life far away, a life of new and scary and exciting and fun, but a life without mom and boy nearby. A life where my niece and nephew grow in leaps and bounds in our absence. Where babies are born and life goes on ‘at home’.

We’ve untied the bow lines and left the sight of our shores and I don’t regret it for a second, but when I have the chance to see my Mom’s green eyes light up, hold my boy tight, hear their laughter, those precious memories fill me up and I cherish them, I see them in every sunset and sunrise we are away.

What?! This blog’s not gonna write itself? Musings on diners and the ditch

When you travel up the US coast on the ICW, you can stop in places like St Augustine and visit Tammy’s Comfort Food diner where the sign that greets you on entering the small greasy ‘prison brick’ swamp green walled diner, says “I’m running out of reasons not to stab you.” 

The emaciated adolescent waitress actually has a great sense of humour and apparently 2 young boys at home. She claims she’s known around town for filling her pick up truck with trash. At Tammy’s you can get deep fried pork chops and battered and fried okra with fried hash browns and … well there is a theme there. 

Friendly and one of a kind, it’s on the main highway along with Walmart Supercenter and the Piggly Wiggly. You could also walk the quaint historic downtown with it’s cobblestone streets and ghost tour operators beckoning. You can also make yourself literally sick with free samples from the rivaling fudge and praline shops… not that I know by experience!

Main tourist street St Augustine - the guy on the right never moved. For days.

You might stumble upon the 4^th of July celebrations and be treated to the best fireworks on the planet and share the experience with thousands of patriotic Americans. In fact, you may be caught up in the spirit of it all, and a 2 day stop might become a week!

And then, to make up time, you might decide to head out to sea through one of the inlets where rip currents well, rip. Where the seas could go from a couple feet to 10 feet in minutes and the wind could pick up to 25 knots directly against you. The sky could be building a plethora of monstrous storm clouds to usher you along, with the constant threat of lightning strikes and torrential downpours to compliment the wind and the big seas…

You could be out there on an overnight sail – because up the ICW you just can’t drive in the dark and you have so many hundreds of miles to cover – and of course only as darkness descends, the storms become a mass over you on your radar and in reality, and the crew will huddle inside as the rain beats and whips your boat as it surfs high, then plunges into the caverns between the waves. If you look out your windows – which Shiloh has many of – you will see only grey, sea foam and buckets of rain making it all a ‘perfect storm’ blur….

And this could be your reality for the whole night. Hours of rain and waves and no sleep to be had. You will realise you haven’t eaten the whole day and that it’s not only due to your queasy stomachs, but also the fact that you could barely pour water to drink, let alone grab food from the fridge or spread anything on bread. Cooking?! Hah!

But when you arrive in the next port, 130 miles further north, drop your anchor right in the channel at 6am and pass out ‘til noon, you wake revitalized and convincing yourself that was the much smarter thing to do. By that evening you could be walking around a neighborhood amusement park with rickety rides and an outdoor bingo hall and you could be enjoying it all as much as the locals.

Oh yeah! Outdoor Bingo!

You might forget for an hour or two that you still have the dream of sailing into New York, waving at the Statue of Liberty from your humble boat below… and that it’s more than 500 miles further north.

You have, after all, covered 4 states in the last few weeks, and have started counting when you’ve washed your hair by the state…

You may decide to ‘do a couple days up the ditch’ as the ICW is affectionately known locally, marveling at the endlessly long jetties that reach out from the swampy shores toward you, the millions of homes that line the banks, shacks to mansions and of course the trailer parks, and the smiling waving people in speed boats and jet skis that whiz past. There are the friendly, clean and helpful marinas that fill your always hungry diesel engines (since you can’t actually sail), and the endless supply of free water – gone are the days of .90 cents a gallon like Bequia and the Bahamas. Here, there is everything in abundance.

Historic houses

Local houses

Lovely marina for a fuel stop - Fernandina Florida

There are the rare but lovely uninhabited islands like Cumberland where wild horses roam the expansive beaches, and the trails are beautiful and so well maintained… Then there are the huge factories pumping out smoke and stench and are less than picturesque…

Walking over to the beach - Cumberland Island

You might be tempted to snicker as the boat in front of you hits the shoaling ground just off the marked path, only to hit it like a ton of bricks yourself the next day, all 15 tonns of your boat meeting thick, black, immovable sludge, and though you manage to back up ‘real fast’ to free yourself, you’ll feel much better about that investment you made in ‘TowBoat US’ you made when you first arrived…

But however you slice up your journey, it will NOT be boring.

You might find yourself in Swansboro at Yana’s Ye Old Drugstore diner, plastered as it is with 70’s wood paneling, dusty Elvis and Marilyn paraphernalia, and hungry local fishermen and their families on a Saturday morning, earnestly gulping down hot grits…

There will be many more towns and taverns and some sailing out there as well. Each night you will be in awe as the sky dazzles red orange and fuschia as the sun sets over the anchorages and towns. And as it all chocks up to an experience, you will never for a moment wish you were anywhere else.

Renovations in and out

Today’s post was supposed to be about renovations, about befores and afters. About the realization of a plan. Work completed. The light at the end of the tunnel.

And it is. Or it was, at least it will be. But for now I’m thinking of a different kind of renovation. A reshuffle, cobweb cleaning of the mind. The kind that comes over you on the morning of a birthday. The culmination of all the years and days and minutes that have lead up to this very moment.

I sit in my rocking bed, noises of my captain, best friend and one true love upstairs in the galley, fumbling around trying to make me a cup of coffee. I am deep in thought. Feeling warm beyond the sweat of my brow, feeling lucky and blessed and so grateful for all the experiences my life has crossed path with. For the love and love lost, for my children, travels, jobs, struggles, joys… and he pops his head down into the passage, interrupting my thoughts with two bottles of instant coffee – “this one or this one? Sugar?”

I am grateful for the day to day of life. I vow at this moment to make a life renovation to appreciate it all. The salt water splash on my bum in the dinghy rides to shore, the constant rain storms that won’t allow our towels to dry on the line for days at a time. These are part of what is offered, along with the beautiful moments.

I will always notice the way JW’s eyes change colour by mood and lighting and his wardrobe. This morning the green has separated and there is a glowing yellow radiating from his pupils, giving way to a deep soulful grey. I love him. This morning I can see his soul. Like a child, like me. We are two naughty children, dared to run away with our back packs and not much more, opting for adventure and insecurity, and there are times we cling to each other with a fear so powerful it knocks us over. But we get back up and scamper around, learning how to sail, to live island to island, one mishap to another, broken boat part to the next, creak in the mast, leak in the hatch.

We have recently completed some long discussed changes to make this boat our home. It has taken a lot out of us, spiritually and financially. But it feels like progress.

It feels like a home that could take us places. Far away places, both spiritually and geographically. And as long as I have his warm strong hand in mine, I’m up for the challenge and the ride.

Below, some pics of the renos:

Making due - trying to make the purple velveteen cordouroy sofa look ok...

Life during renovations

Life during renos 2

When they cut out the wall of one of our heads

All the innards are gone, right down to the hull - OMG, it's so thin! There are holes!!!

The completed top cupboard! My new pantry and linen closet!

The completed bottom cupboard - to be used for tools and captain stuff

Finally collecting Shiloh from her unnatural home - heading back to the water!

En route through the boatyard - good riddance!

The renovated saloon - new chair, upholstery, table, and cut off nav seat (on the left - now a cupboard)

A view from further back - including new suede stools for foot rests, storage and seating!

And a view to the right....

And here's Shiloh - back in the water, new graphics proudly displayed, and a happy crew onboard