Saturday, January 13, 2018
Marathon: simple, pure
Just after 7 p.m. Dark.
A cold (relatively) front is passing and the temperature has dropped (sob) into the 60sF. Sitting here at Central with a breeze blowing in I am wearing Levis and a Polartec. I may even dig out my heavier sleeping bag tonight.
I’m listening to music, a ‘less than five’ playlist, the less being number of times played, which is not accurate because it doesn’t take into account other devices, still music I don’t hear frequently. At present Dulce Pontes, a Portuguese group, singing ‘Cancao De Embalar’.
I am drinking hurricane proof boxed wine that is not any worse for having been aboard for more than four months and Hurricane Irma, but am about to move on to something better.
Dinner was Good To-Go freeze dry Marina Pasta.
Earlier today I dug both Torqeedos out of the stern, and the old one is now fixed to the transom. It started at the push of the button, as it did not at St. Lucia. I am going to leave it there until I leave.
In fetching the outboards, GANNET’s interior became absolute chaos. Fortunately I was able to move some of the stuff on deck while moving other stuff about. There is too much on this boat. As I know and believe I have stated before, stuff spontaneously increases. I am talented at throwing stuff out. I truly take great pleasure in giving stuff away if possible or throwing it out. Yet always there is too much. In Hilton Head I will completely unload GANNET and move some stuff ashore and some to a dumpster.
A pause during which I replaced the plastic tumbler in which I was drinking boxed wine with a crystal glass of Laphroaig.
Being back on board is wonderful.
The breeze against my face. Little wavelets lapping against the hull. GANNET’s cabin in order. The prospect of sailing ahead, if only five or six hundred miles.
Life simple, almost pure.