Howling wind. Boat listing to port. Groaning dock lines. Waves slapping on the hull. Grace relaxing then surging against her lines. Was the extra dock line I added enough? What happens if one of the lines chaffs through? Do we slam into the pilings? or into the boats across the inlet? How fast can I get my clothes on? What about slipping on the icy dock?
A relaxing night's sleep. All my thoughts in the dark, in the cold, while my sleep companions... slept. I, alone, was worrying. David and Amelia? Nah. They even had the audacity to snore! Tonight I'll wake them both if I'm nervous.
I was feeling really vulnerable this morning, verge of tears vulnerable. We did make it through the night without slipping our dock lines or wearing them into pieces. My additional line held and others did not chaff through. We are warm thanks to our little space heaters. Really, all is well.
Really, we are vulnerable....as are we each, all the time...really. Vulnerable to what? Death. Sickness. Joy. Companionship. Fear. Love. But here, in a new place, in winter, without my familiar support systems and human resources (aka, friends!), I notice my/our vulnerability and interdependency. Realizing, again, that I, maybe more than David, want and need my buddies. Phone calls aren't as salient as face-to-face or close proximity contact. Where, in this place, is my community? It's out there somewhere else. Away, somewhere. Yuck! Causes me, again, to consider where I want to be living in and for the next 10 years - dual residency with close friends in both places? cruising and land-based communities?
Much as I don't like talking on the phone (small childhood trauma), I loved talking on the phone today. My sweet college friend, Alana, called to check on me. Sharyl called to check in. I called aunt Kathleen, Mary & Irwin, Betsy and another couple of people. Those contacts did ameliorate my feelings of aloneness.
And the sun came up and, finally, out from behind the clouds. And it quit snowing around 2:00 PM. The wind continues to howl but David checked the dock lines and added another. He said mine was perfect. We shoveled out (!) using the dustpan and the cutting board. Then a dock neighbor lent us one of his shovels. We returned his shovel and toured his big steel boat.
This photo is from the door of the Breezeway Cafe' (the marina lounge). We "Got snow!" Our boat is way in the distance a bit left of center but you really can't see her from the Breezeway.
David did most of the small amount of real shoveling needed. We were surprised, when we finally took our insulation off the leeward side windows, to see that someone - dock master? - had shoveled a path down the dock and down our little finger dock. Cool. We cleared our pilot house doorways.
Starboard side snow. About 6" on deck.
Below, David pretends to love working outside in the cold. It was bracing and he does have better winter clothes than I have.
We had a conversation about my fears, our fears and our options for continuing this journey. Possibilities:
1) leave the boat here for a month and go to NC or take advantage of Nancy's offer of apt in Matthew
2) plan more carefully and choose each next marina along the ICW, calling in advance of leaving to make sure they are open and have space
3) live here at Rebel on the boat until more consistently reasonable weather
Neither of us considered going back to Maine as an option though we know it is, should we need to do so.
For the moment we've settled on option #2 and started that research this afternoon. We'll take our computers and our notebook to the Breezeway tomorrow and do some real planning, always waiting for decent weather with warmer temps and less wind. And tomorrow the mechanic will come to finish the engine mounts and shaft aligning. Fingers and toes crossed for a purring boat!
Sitting across from David now after dinner I notice that we both "lean into the wind" toward the starboard side of the boat, counter-balancing the "list to port" that the wicked wind is making. David reads. Amelia sleeps behind him. The space heater, heats. Waves slap the hull. The forward water tank is not frozen. The dock lines are holding. Sunset was beautiful!
peace
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