In our final months of preparation for this trip, before eventual shove off, Jeff somehow managed to fry our refrigerator during a tinkering session. I took this as a sign. “Let’s try to live without the fridge.” I seem to recall proposing to Jeff enthusiastically. Since I’m generally the go-to person for food, Jeff was willing to defer this decision to me. Thus commenced my ill fated attempt to live without a refrigerator, at a marina, with a readily available ice machine (which really should have made it a gimme). This lasted all of three days…
Caves and deserts are important features in hermit myths. They represent an interior space, surrounded by desolation, which echoes the surroundings of the vessel of our minds, evoking an experience of being alone inside your thoughts. As a person who knows what it is to multitask too far and stretch one’s mind until sheer, I have fantasized about eliminating extraneous thought and reducing the voices in my head (let’s not get excited, you have them too. right?) to one, perhaps even none.
The total spending for September was $1491. A couple annotations: Shopping – One word – Amazon. Adventure – My expenses during my trip back to the US are lumped into […]
When I got back to the boat we had a friendly message from Jody and Peter at Where the Coconuts Grow announcing our nomination for the LIEBSTER AWARDS! What are the Liebster Awards? I didn’t know either. Some equate it to a chain letter (are we bringing those back in style?) while others equate it to the participant ribbon of the blogosphere. Congratulations! You have a blog! And someone actually reads it? Huzzah!
We recently celebrated one year of living at anchor. It was a lifestyle we were both eager to try out, though we certainly weren’t without concern. This lifestyle transition was made partly by choice, but mostly by necessity. Marinas down in Central America (Costa Rica in particular) are far too costly. They tend to prefer the sports fishing crowd whose money reverberates even in their absence. If you listen closely, very closely, you might be able to hear the ever so subtle ping of our money dispersing into the community.
After my adventure in anxiety out at the Ladrones, I dropped my anchor in a small sandy cove on Isla Parida and set up camp, prepared to stay until the food ran out. Ahead of me lay unwatched days without time, place, or distraction. My list of personal ambitions was extensive, but as always, the boat comes first. I laid out the entirety of my tool supply on Harmony’s settee almost immediately and began what I hoped to be my final return to operating on our engine’s drivetrain – the place where our propeller shaft exits the bottom of the boat. Nautical proctology, if you like.
Oh my God the suspense!
There I was in the middle of nowhere in the Ladrones cluster of islands, heading further out to sea towards my ultimate desert island destination. It was morning and I had just hauled anchor and put up my sails, drinking my coffee and listening to tunes through the cabin speakers, when I heard an airplane buzz. That’s weird, I thought, I haven’t seen an airplane in months. Suddenly I see it: a small, maybe 10-person twin prop airplane painted drab gray green. It reminded me of something old fashioned. It makes a pass over the island chain, and as I watch it, in my imagination the seabirds in the sky just increased in number by one. I try to follow this phantom bird, but it’s lost in a mirage.
Harmony left on Monday, and I intended to raise anchor on Tuesday. Today was Friday. Such it is with trying to leave on boats.
On the morning I was set to leave Boca Chica, I went to secure the loose articles on deck and was struck dumb. It seems some idiot forgot to screw down the cap for the diesel deck fill on our main fuel tank (the one we put back into commission last year in Chiapas) before leaving the boat for two days to take Harmony to the bus. It rained hard both days. Our side decks have proven to be excellent rain catchers.
Son of a motherless —
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 probably couldn’t manage that. Plus, even down here 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? I do have this boat . .