Log from the solo sail – Part 1

Acclimation

Harmony’s off in the states for four weeks! All the space is mine! I report now only to Tack.

With Harmony and our friends Mary and Perry all out of town at the same time, our English afterschool program at the school is going on hiatus. Not that I couldn’t manage a room of 30 rowdy kids spanning from Kinder to Grade 8, without a coherent lesson plan, but — actually I couldn’t manage that. Plus a person needs to think about liability when children are in your care. So everything’s shut down and I’m here all by my lonesome. What kind of trouble can I get into? Well I do have this boat . . .

One of the more fun things about vagabonding is that you’re already mostly untethered, so you can just pick up and change backyards when the mood strikes. What better opportunity will I have to get lost for a spell? I‘m going to get as away as I can get.

You only have so many opportunities to try a totally different way of living, so for a brief window of time I am going to embrace the full hermit. Let’s see what creativity lies on the other side of boredom, the connectedness on the other side of lonesomeness. Let’s see what the sea brings.

Before all that though, we return to an essential concept: All the space is mine!

Step one: clean and spread out. I hang my swim trunks on the starboard side now! Harmony’s side is now my tools’ side! I don’t have to share anything! That mess? It’s mine! When’s my bedtime? Who’s watching? What’s for dinner? Probably something pretty basic!

My intention is to sail with Tack to Isla Montuosa, some 45 miles directly south of Boca Chica, thirty miles west of Coiba Island. This will be only the second time I’ve been more than 20 miles offshore. It will be my first time sailing alone. The many nights on shift when I was obliged to change or douse sails without waking Harmony has me feeling mostly undaunted, but the wild card is the squalls.

If one comes along, my general strategy will be to douse sails and run the motor. I like my risks progressive. With any luck, I’ll have a soldier’s wind the whole way.

My hope is to stay out at the island for two weeks, give or take. This will depend in no small part on how well I provisioned after dropping Harmony off at the bus in David. As a first timer, how I did at this task is a total guess, so there’s a possibility I’ll come home starving in a week unless I have a lot of luck fishing. I’m looking forward to the challenge.

The next day will entail preparation of the space for travel. I can’t let the full cluttered chaos of solitude erupt just yet.
Crap. I meant to buy a volleyball. Who will I talk to? A coconut will have to do. I have plenty of red paint.