So long beloved floppy hat! We had some good times together.
When we moved onto Serenity, we sold all of our things. I exaggerate. We sold most of our things. The things that are still in our possession, the things we can call our own fit on our 30 foot sailboat and 5 shelves in Jeff’s parents’ garage. Most of these things are either pretty integral to our day to day, or they’re memories we’re storing away to rediscover at a later date (5 shelves is a lot of memories).
I thought I would learn through this experience that things don’t matter so much. I’ve actually learned something different. Things matter a whole lot when each one serves a very specific purpose in your life. When every thing takes on meaning beyond its basic utility…like Tom Hanks and that volleyball. I don’t stage dramatic scenes with my possessions (Jeff might tell you something different) but I’ve become pretty attached to the things that make this life a little easier, a little more comfortable. When they’re gone, it’s more than just the replacement cost that gets to me (although that can certainly do a number on our finances).
I keep losing things. We keep losing things. It’s inevitable when you’re surrounded by this deep abyss. The ocean will take these things and move them swiftly either to its depths or some distant shore, depending upon the constitution of the thing. The ocean has no regard for how much you loved that thing, it will take that thing far away from you, to an irretrievable place.
Here’s what’s down for the count thus far:
- Jeff’s cell phone – dropped in the Columbia River (made a brief recovery…then died)
- Our inflatable 6′ West Marine dinghy – went on a walkabout at Bahia de Tortugas.
- A can of Corrosion X – lost en route to Bahia de Los Muertos.
- Jeff’s polarized sunglasses – lost at Los Lobos anchorage? We still don’t know what happened to them
- My wallet – dropped in the San Francisco Bay
- Jeff’s wallet – lost somewhere in La Paz, or snatched, we’re not sure which
- My big floppy hat from the San Diego Hat Company (loved this hat) – deposited somewhere between the mogote and Marina de La Paz on a dinghy ride
- The lid to our Omnia oven – snatched by the 40+ knot gusts we endured at Isla San Francisco…there will be a brief hiatus of baked goods on-board
- My hippy soap (Dr. Bronner’s lavender soap) – accidentally poured down the sink when our boat heeled over en route to Ensenada Grande
- Too many pens to count…oh, and forks, we keep losing our forks (?)
I have learned that yes, indeed, we can get by with surprisingly little. I need very little to be happy, to be content. My possessions occupy a tiny amount of space in this world. And even though I have a small space to fill, I still acquire more. I hide our new things away in nooks and crannies. I grow attached to all of these beautiful, interesting, warm, colorful, useful things. So many things!
I wonder if I’ll reach a point when something flies overboard and I shrug and say, ‘to hell with it, I didn’t need that anyway.’ Probably not. Because the truth of the matter is that in some way or another I need most of the things that have made their way onto this boat. This is our deserted island and these are the things we choose to carry with us.