Still on the hard in Annapolis, in the boat yard. A boat is a machine to live in (I see where Corbu took it from), and like a car, it has to work in its every parts before you can go. For now, it’s more like a condo. Water is working, but the gray water falls right outside on the ground, which could make us unpopular with passer-bys, and we use the shower of the Marina (well, just once so far). The fridge is supposed to be fixed today (yeah–although I got used to chips with avocado/salsa dip for dinner). Yesterday, Skipper Spangler (Dickie), gave me the task to install battery terminal protectors on the 6 batteries (exciting as it could explode if you connected the plus and minus poles), and finish paper work to register Peregrine in GA. Today, I am to re-arm the PDF (life jackets), with an internet search. Dickie is working on the “nav” station, and we are to change the halyards (lines to the top of the mast) before we can go.
sv PEREGRINE 
You guys be careful. Not that you aren’t, but it always feels good to say that, like you are sending a verbal talisman to protect the people who receive it. Thinking of you both and wish you a safe and happy journey. I imagine it must feel like walking on the moon. Love M
(May answering): Thanks, Margaret! It’s hard to be careful when you don’t grasp a situation (and indeed, this is as foreign to us as the moon): the safest place for a boat is supposed to be out of the water, but then, how forceful will Sandy really be? Dickie is checking hotel rooms availability right now–it should not be a problem since nobody will be coming to vacation in Annapolis in the next few days.