Every step of the journey IS the journey

Disappointment is a relative thing. It varies from person to person and can be anything from devastating to a minor inconvenience.

I’d say that our cruising life hasn’t involved any marked disappointments at all. Until we found ourselves with itchy sails, ready after last week’s storm scare, to head out. Even Roger’s vibrant Sunday beach party had lost it’s lustre – and that it just us getting spoiled. We needed a new adventure and finally got it together yesterday to do just that.

Even our ladder was ready for a new scene - this is what it looked like when we pulled it up to go...

Captain John in his element

 We sailed around to Grenada’s capital, the pretty port, surrounded by house spotted hills, pulled in to the yacht club to fill up all our tanks. All went smoothly, mostly, and we anchored out in the bay.

We filled a huge shopping cart at Foodland and loaded up the dinghy. We got back to the boat and planned a walk on the beach. It was all going swimmingly.

And then JW went down to do a standard check of the engines. There were tools and oil bottles and rolls of paper towel – up and down the hull steps he went, sweating heavily. Silent.

And then he shouted up:

“The sail drive seal is leaking again. The oil has drained out and there is milky residue in the bottom”.

Which translates to:

“We not only can’t sail off as planned, but we have to head back around to the south end of Grenada and get a booking at a boat yard to haul out”.

Which further translates to a night or more of life up in a sling, with no use of water (toilets, kitchen (galley) sink), no breeze, mosquitos… basically hell.

And so for the first time in a long time, I felt it. The stomach gnawing claw of disappointment. I was heartbroken, crushed. Not quite devastated.

And as all things are relative, I remembered that we were anchored near Grenada’s best long white sandy beach. And that Umbrella’s beach bar has the best burgers around. Even on a global scale. And I remembered I had to do laundry, and here I am, and there is high speed Internet here, a light breeze, and this is my view:

 They say sailors have short memories. Soon we'll have 'accomplished' our latest maintenance feat, and we'll be headed off. And disappointment sounds like a foreign word.

Overnight haul out

Up on the hard. Funny phrase that. But that’s just what we are, or where we are to be precise.

Shiloh and her inhabitants are like fish out of water. We’ve motored into a narrow concrete slip at Spice Island Marine, and Shiloh has been hoisted with two massive slings, up and out of the water.

 This was planned, but it can be a bit unsettling.

Maintenance of a boat sometimes requires access to her from below, and this time we are changing the seals on the sail drives. Definitely not a job that could be done in the water.

Also, after a few weeks over at Hog island, Shiloh needed an underbelly shower! Lots of lime green algae and barnacles had made our boat their comfy home. Despite our motoring in some big swells around the Prickly peak, we hadn’t managed to shake them free.

 So, it had to be done.

It’s another adventure, this time a non-nautical one!

I did my part as we came into the slip, our temporary captain maneuvered Shiloh’s 20 tons as if we were slim trim graceful. All I had to do was be calm and throw the lines out to the guys waiting ashore, so they could guide the boat in. It all went off without a hitch.

The most disorienting moment was going down below (while up high), and seeing gravel through our escape hatch windows! Yikes. I’m so used to seeing the aquamarine colour of the sea below us. I much prefer it.

I hear from other cruisers that tonight will not be the most pleasant experience. I’ve gotten used to the lull of the ocean’s motherly motion and the cooling winds at anchor. Tonight will be so still and we are not facing the wind, so definitely hotter than normal. The soothing sounds of the waves rolling over the reef out our cabin window at Hog Island will be replaced by trucks on the road behind the boat yard. The sea spray replaced by the dust of gravel from the nearby construction site.

But still, I’m excited!

Right now I’m at De Big Fish, wifi and soda with bubbles and limes… I can see JW and the mechanic crouched under Shiloh’s massive shadow, a few metres away. My job now is to bring ‘home’ some hot fresh take outs and some icy beers. I can do that.

Every day a new adventure, a new task. A new perspective. This one doesn’t seem ‘on the hard’ side afterall.