Have only five days past since the big Valentine’s nuptials? Hard to imagine, considering how much we’ve packed in between then and now. The days have their individual activities that separate one from the next, but the myriad other bits and pieces that are strewn in each day make every twenty-four hour period a real lesson in stamina. Fun + work + the level of exertion that living on a boat necessitates for all simple tasks = the best kind of exhaustion imaginable.
My coffee and reading time in the cockpit is a sacred way to start each morning, and no mere mortal (at least on this vessel) shall mess with that if they want me to hang around for the rest of the day for any further assistance. I sit, I’m still, I’m taking in the scenery, I’m plowing through my books, and I’m not fetching one bleeping thing for any human other than myself. I’m grateful that the other early riser in the family is one who is as avid a reader, and knows not to mess with the rhythm; I often hear Lily turning pages just below me in her bunk. (My perch in the cockpit is just above her head, and her porthole has proven to be a source of ‘scare the pants off of Mom’ joy when they reach out and grab my leg when I think they’re asleep at night (and sometimes in the morning, gr….)… Kids. Joys, right?!)
Once that blissful reverie is interrupted by kids banging around, Andy checking batteries and going about his a.m. duties, food is made and school begins. (Queue sometimes productive, sometimes not productive hours of labor here, so that I don’t drag you down with details of my whining at their whines about me asking them to just “do the [insert school ‘thing’ here] already, for Pete’s sake, and do you treat your teachers the way you’re treating me? How disrespectful!”)
Lunch is made and devoured, plans are made and unfold, and then the ‘back to the boat’ spray down on the transom and get clean dry clothes on ‘coming home’ routine ensues. This is another great time for me, and another one spent in the cockpit, as the kids often tuck down below for a bracelet-making marathon, a game (this year’s favorites are Uno and Memory), a movie or a newly-introduced show. They’ve been ‘Red Box’-ing movies and tv shows from Ruach, which has an incredible collection. Since our borrowing became so regular last year, Susanne made it one step more legitimate in that she has an old Red Box DVD case, which is now transported back and forth each time we need a fix. Great service, and 0% of the price! (Note: we are leeches.)
While they’re gaming below, Andy and I continue on with our cribbage streak, which has been almost a nightly occurrence since we started the trip. Dinner is often cooking below, kids are happy and clean, and we get twenty minutes to scope the neighborhood, watch the sun set (A is happiest when it’s unobstructed over the water and not messing around behind those piddly landforms), and play cards. From there, it’s dinner, sometimes a family game, and total CRASH. Sun, sand, salt, wind, activity.. it’s a wonder they don’t fall asleep at the table more often than they do. (And they do, from time to time.)
That’s a day in the life, and as for a week on the move, we’ve hit a number of great little Cays between Great Exuma (there), and Staniel Cay (here) in the past almost-week. We met up with Maine friends on their boat in Leaf Cay, where we also met three other kid boats in the anchorage, and played happily on a beach after snorkeling one afternoon. We were able to snorkel in another spot the next morning before leaving, and found a great head of staghorn coral, though the vast fields of bleaching flanking is so depressing. Recognizing that our girls are seeing coral reefs at all when their subsequent generation may not see much of anything is a thread I don’t lose when we’re out there.
We then moved on to Rudder Cay, where we snorkeled a great ‘loaf’ (the tides carve out these little island nubs to look like muffins/loaves over time) in the mouth of the cut, which had a great diversity of corals (stag horn, elk horn, fan, and others I can’t name at the moment), sponges, reef fish, a nurse shark, barracuda and a sting ray or two. The girls are both amazing snorkelers, and last as long as the slowest adult every time (usually Andy, as I tend to get cold..). V doesn’t use her actual snorkel, and prefers to dolphin around and up and down, resulting in a lot of work, but she is unfazed by it. They’ve both been practicing some free-diving and teaching themselves to equalize, perhaps as a result of seeing so many others spear-fishing along the way. A cruiser already in the water for that dive in particular said “I’m in a school of barracuda right now!”, and Violet’s response was “I gotta get IN there!”, while the rest of us were thinking, ‘Er, Uh… I may wait a minute or two..’ She’s gung-ho, to say the least.
From Rudder we moved to Little Farmer’s for a night before a night at Black Point Settlement on Guana Cay. Short easy runs between islands, with enough time for schooling in the morning and an adventure once we landed each day. A snorkel, an island walk- as long as we ‘run the dogs’ and see the sights, we’re all happy.
Here on Staniel our plan is to provision (mailboat with fresh produce comes tomorrow, fingers’ crossed), and say goodbye (sniff, sniff) to our Ruach compadres before we cross to Eleuthera on Thursday, when there’s a good weather window for not beating to weather. It’s down to making the most of our last day with our buddies, and I already feel the weight of sadness from the girls. (The adults too, but I’m sure that it’s more intense for this sweet kid tribe.)
But first tomorrow, that cockpit coffee and book….