The more-bitter-than-sweet wake up of our last morning onboard has arrived. Fighting for my last cockpit sunrise moment, I sit tangled amidst removed running rigging (say that ten times fast), the packed-up jib, and the bits and bobs of a boat on its way out of the water. To add to the visual, I’ve wrapped any bare parts in salty damp towels I’ve found up here, because for the first time on our trip, the noseeums have decided that today is their day to attack. I suppose that’s an argument for staying in bed until the sun is up, but tell that to my internal clock, or at least tell it to bring the bug spray.
As always, we’re finishing here on Green Turtle Cay, and after a couple of nights spent anchored off of the settlement, we came into the dock of the boatyard yesterday for ease of packing up and packing off. Andy stays for a few more days to really put things away, so we didn’t have to spend too much of our last moments prepping for storage.
My mother’s arrival for their annual trip here has actually overlapped by a day, so after beach picnicking one day and visiting friends for lunch for another, we were happy to be able to dinghy in and meet their ferry as it came over yesterday, and then spend our last night with them. A great cast off for their vacation and our departure!
Nine years we’ve been doing this, which is crazy to think. Every time we come back, I remark that it feels like we’ve been aboard more recently than we have, which just emphasizes to me how natural and ‘home-state’ this wee little vessel feels. Motions of movement and tasks are second nature, and even as I’m thinking ‘wait, where did I stow that ‘x’ again?’ I find myself moving toward it and opening hatches or compartments to access it.
The girls’ artwork from years ago that decorates the salon has started to peel on the edges, and some of it I’ve taken down to take home for safe[st] keeping. We donated our CandyLand and Chutes and Ladders this year, and gave away a lot of arts and crafts supplies as well; Chickadee is evolving with the family, growing up, I suppose, and simplifying its stores. I retain the hope that it doesn’t mean less colorful, less warm, but so far there is little chance. (For starters, the trails of clothing they leave on every surface are quite literally very colorful.)
The evolution of our time onboard and its shortening lengths has us getting creative about different trips down here. Lily talks about sailing alone with friends one day, perhaps for a college break, which is fun to think about, even if all I can visualize is the fridge full of beer. Now that the girls are older and Lily is driving, it’s easier to imagine Andy and I coming down for a time without them (although shhh, don’t mention it to them). Barring any major storms, etc., it’s nice to know that short stints are still very much worth it, and that the work needed on either end of the trip is doable, and not overwhelming in its scope. It’s just part of the time, which we cherish.
The fact that there is even a ‘sweet’ ending to our departure is borne from the length as well. Since we didn’t fully unplug and shift our lives from land to sea this year, there is definitely a feeling of being in two worlds, with one (ahem, land) detracting from the other in ways that more easily signify the time to go. Though the cruiser in me just wants to be floating at all times, the task-master in me is ready to get home and not let the things that I’ve put aside pile up even more. Always with the lesson it seems, all things in balance.
And speaking of balance, or perhaps it’s very opposite, (madness?), the bugs are literally pinging off of my glasses making it hard for me to see the screen, so my current goal is to focus on not running around the yard flailing and swiping like a maniac. Time to go below and get packing. Until next time!
