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Having Sookie afloat again is like being reunited with a long lost lover, I fit inside her like we were meant to be together.  I know her every curve and she knows mine. With a spark the aromas of sulfur  fills the air as I light her heater.  The warm glow of her lamps removes me from the growing storm, its forecast to top 50 tonight but we are safe in our slip, the first gusts hit hard, she shudders and dumps the wind.  Sookie is a good home but she is far more than that.

Living aboard a sailboat

i pull my galley knife across a diamond edge, my mouth watering at my first real meal since hauling her out in June.  The music is bumping, the heater cranking and the skillet sizzling.  Buttery eggs over a bed of steamed potatoes and onions, dessert will be my world class kettle corn with a bit of spice.  My glass is filled with Caribbean  rum.  I grind an obscene amount of pepper over the garlic and top it with habanero from the same place as my rum. I use everything in my well outfitted spice rack but the kitchen sponge and set it to cook while I sip on a bit of life in my little cocoon.

Everything is put away, her lines neatly coiled and the cabin warm and dry.  I pull my expedition socks as high as they will go and listen to the rain beating against the deck.  It’s been too long since I’ve tasted the life of the liveaboard sailor and it’s good to be home, to have a real home, a place I know and love.

Sookie dips and heels with the gusts, i set  extra lines with chafing gear to keep us safe, i will check them often and sleep deeply as the storm rages on.  This isn’t our first storm together but in some strange way if feels like it is.  I’m like a mother hen checking and rechecking everything.  It’s going to be a long night but that’s what life is when you live aboard, you take care of each other at all times…

From the log of Sookie, I’m sitting in the weed lounge at the Green Tourtise  hostel in Seattle, it’s very late Sunday evening and the place is alive, I chat with young coeds while surfers jam on their guitars, it’s dark and smokey I love this place.  Shopping online I don’t have enough cash to get to Hawaii and I can’t book a flight to Florida as a hurricane is bearing down.  Somewhere  in the early morning I make a judgement call as cloudy as my surroundings and my head, I’m going home…