I take it as a sign from the gods, the seller of my trailer has vanished off the face of the earth, I hope he is ok. I get another offer for sponsorship for the blog. I try to explain that nobody reads these words, they up the anti, I respectfully decline it. This is my journey, I don’t want to do it that way. I flip on the VHF, weather guesser says 30-50 knots, oh joy of joys.
Some days I go to the boat 10 times doing this and that, grabbing tools or a piece of wood or… others days I forget I even have a boat, winter is like that. I gave the boat yard guys huge tips when they hauled Sookie and requested she be put close to water and power, they gave me the best spot in the yard. As soon as I left they moved me to the exact spot I asked them not to. I’m right next to this dipshit who has half his rigging removed, one of his spreaders pulled, he hasn’t touched the boat in two years. A ladder hangs from the top of the mast swinging in the wind. If the 30 year old forstay goes the mast will fall straight back crushing a Sookies new boomkin and taffrail. I brought this to the yard managers attention three days ago, nothing. The mast flops and sways in the wind. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t gone on bike tour I’d have 20k in my pocket, could have fixed all the little things and be shipping her east today. No regrets on my decision, just a little bummed how it all turned out.
I’m tired, maybe a day off is in order. Haliards clank and clink outside my cabin. The view of the bay is excellent but not like living aboard where I’m part of the view. I get a text from a friend, he is half way down the Baja peninsula surfing and fixing all the broken shit on his 50’ boat. I suspect he’s doing more surfing than fixing and it makes me smile.
Yesterday was rudder day but a snafu had me behind the bar all day serving hot food and cold drinks to hunters. I’m not really sure where you would hunt on such a small island but they are everywhere. My view from behind the bar is of Sookies empty slip, I’m closer than ever to just saying screw it and launching her, this is why I never get anything done, every year I flip out and splash her and the work gets pushed back, this is winter in the PNW
For a lack of anything better to do I sweep the pine needles off my deck, it’s cold outside, too windy to ride. I look across the bay, there is a boat on the beach. She is the loneliest most neglected boat in the world. Twice a year she goes aground on the rocks, a testament to her strength. All summer vagrants fought over her stealing her from each other but now it’s winter, nobody cares. I’ve fallen into a deep depression, I have to get out of here.
Sookies log sits untouched, blank pages waiting for my pen to touch clean white paper and fill in the void of my life. To record the passages of my youth before it’s gone…