January 2, 2003
Of course when Amie came down, after seeing
that we are surviving and surviving well, the question of
the hour seemed to be how long were we staying out here and
when were we coming back. Not that I can recall if she ever
asked it- but having our friends here made me ask that of
myself. So far, we can't answer that. We don't know exactly.
For the longest time it seemed I was merely
trying to get through each day on our boat. There was so much
new to figure out (including how to sail). Such a different
way of life to get accustomed to. Yes, I read books about
cruising, and I knew the facts about not having a shower,
running water, living in such a small space and spending twenty
four hours a day, seven days a week with Curt, but the reality
of being in that situation is something no one, no book, no
amount of research can prepare you for, and no one can possibly
understand it until they've lived it themselves. You just
have to do it and hope one day you aren't thinking about it
so much anymore. At least it seemed to work that way for me.
One day the hard parts of life on a boat merely became plain
old parts of life, and I wasn't thinking about it all so much.
Everyday used to be so hard for me
half the battle (or maybe more) was how much I desperately
missed home. I missed my apartment. I missed walking up to
Polkers for breakfast with the gang and rehashing the events
of the night before. I missed the smell of the wet San Francisco
streets as I drove to work in the morning. It reminded me
of when I was a kid, I'd spend the night at a friend's house
only to become so homesick by 10 o'clock that I thought I'd
just die, so I'd just give-in and ask my friend's parents
to take me home. I felt like that almost everyday here. But
then I realized that your old friends at home have gone on
with their lives, and as much as you miss them and your time
together, they'll probably still be there when we get back.
Maybe someone will have a girlfriend or a new apartment, perhaps
a job has been switched or two. But it will still be there.
The opportunity for this type of adventure won't be.
So Curt and I go back and forth. I
think he would stay out here forever if he had his druthers.
I want to be among my old community of friends and family.
I want to have a nice place to live without worrying about
it dragging up on the rocks. My sister is getting married
this summer, and I want to be there for every bit of it. That's
something that won't always be there. This is a once in a
lifetime milestone for her and I'm missing so much of it.
On the other hand, I love being able to sail off wherever
we want, to take my pencils and a pad of paper on the deck
of the boat and draw all day if I want to. I can write, and
draw, or snorkel. And- by and large, there are no deadlines,
or appointments, or even other people's expectations, to live-up