The one mile ride to town leaves me winded, this is making me crazy but I focus on strengthening the parts of my body that I can. Early to bed early to rise blah, blab, blah. My mind is a torrent. It’s obvious I won’t be riding the Baja divide this year. All my attention is put to a few simple tasks, to be as strong as I can, to save as much as I can and to to focus on Sookie, where to start and how to utilize every aspect of winter and the confines of my tiny home.
It’s dark by 430 now, I’m a natural night owl and going to bed before 2:00 am has always been near impossible. That leaves 9:00 hours of silence, even just sipping on a glass of wine can turn into disaster in those dimensions. I force myself into a lights off by 10 and lay in bed tossing and turning for hours. My alarm gets set earlier each day. I’m pirating the cabin next door to glue up a custom laminate mattress for my v- berth. I’m still shopping foam and studying how to do this without the sewing looking like a blind person did it but I can make it for $2000.00 less than the locals want and that will pay for my new roller furling which I am 100% committed to.
My pedals turn slowly and methodically, natural power pure and simple. How to make sookie as self Sufficient as I can without destroying her clean lines feels like an impossibility. I watch a few videos of pacific crossings and these guys are bringing over a hundred gallons of auxiliary fuel, I don’t ever want to be that guy but I’m not planning on crossing any oceans on this boat. My amazon basket is full of video cameras, mics and sound recorders. A new laptop is on the list but I’m being cheap on this one. Rowing a $1500.00 laptop around is always a risk. I still can’t push the checkout button which tells me I haven’t found the best way, so I continue to study.
New lighting is still thwarting me, what size panel and where. I need to pull the ceiling boards lining the v-berth but not till Feb as the weather starts to settle, I only have so much space and don’t want to rip the boat apart all at one time. The boat needs to be in Port Townsend by March to beat the spring rush. The seller of my trailer has gone AWOL I’m skitso trying to make time for a spring cruise. The earlier I leave the further I can get. I won’t sail these waters from mid June to September, too many credit card boaters and charter boats crashing into everything and everyone.
I take a deep breath, my three hour shift starts in 5 hours, I’m out of food, laundry needs to be done. I really want to make a short video of sookie in and out, I need to find a second set of hands for the camera I’m afraid to commit to. Maybe I have time for one more cup of coffee and some more contemplation.
There are 168 hours in any given week, I spend 148 of those in total isolation, I’ve started talking to myself out loud. Maybe I do have what it takes to sail solo again, naw, not my thing. I fight cabin fever, sharpen my pencil often and move forward, slowly and deliberately. Each forward movement is a critical one, one missed step and I can fall into the abyss.