Sorry Ben H. I’ll wash it before returning it!
Meanwhile, Dickie and Peregrine are fighting a 32-knot Nor’easter in Sapelo Sound.
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SSI To Cumberland Island Sept 2013
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Here is a rough edit video of our sail to Cumberland Island September 2013:
We are sailing 5 to 10 NM off shore, 6 KTS +/- on a beam reach, starboard tack in 10-15 KTS true wind.
Pic 1: wet all over, and the ocean most of all.
Pic 2: we have not left yet, and won’t for a while as Peregrine decided she needed more attention. We washed the holding tank overflow yesterday–see the brownish stuff on pic 2? We also filled the batteries with distilled water (hmm, 4 gallons, so now you understand what I mean by Peregrine needing “attention”), and Dickie wired the electronics from the nav’ station to the cockpit.
I told Dickie over breakfast at Mallory street café this morning how in the last week I feel like I’m living on his schedule. His brow lifted in concern. I added, “Like a man’s schedule to be more precise.” Because given the way things have been going this week, we-are-on-a-routine. Like his dad, who used to describe his morning routine with great relish: ‘In the morning, first thing I do is make a cup of coffee. I like it black, always. Then I get the newspaper and read it (and he’d make the gesture of opening and folding his newspaper). Then I make breakfast: a cup of oatmeal (and he’d make a cup with his hands), or maybe some whole wheat toast with a little butter and a poached egg. I like my eggs poached soft. etc.” And the thing is, his dad has managed to be happy his whole life, even now when he cannot walk anymore, and I believe looking forward to whatever is coming up next in his routine might be the secret ingredient.
So, Dickie and I now have an established routine: have breakfast out, go to Peregrine and work on her (well, Dickie always does while I mostly write on my Cubism chapter), have a high protein bar for lunch, go home, have dinner, watch “All Creatures Great and Small,” and start all over in the morning.
So, back to our breakfast at Mallory street Café. Dickie agrees, “yeah, we men tend to like our routine.”
I expend, “See, this is not what we women do. We like to weave people in our schedule, and all other kinds of social intricacies.”
Dickie smiles. “Yes, you ladies do that, don’t you?”
I sigh, “It’s kind of nice living like a man for a while. So much easier.”
I take another bite of grits. Actually, I have had the exact same breakfast in the last three days of poached eggs, sausage, grits and toast, so that I can fairly compare restaurants (so far, Mallory street has won over the 4th of May, way too salty, and Palmers, whose grits were delicious but too buttery so you don’t really taste the grits. I liked their sausage the most though).
Speak of a routine.
Oh, and if you noticed I take poached eggs like Dick’s dad, you’re right that I take it after him.
Thumbs up to the support line at Coastal Climate Control in Annapolis. They walked Dickie through steps to find out what could be wrong with the fridge, and after trips to Home Depot and more phone calls, fix it–or rather cut the diode off, which will need to eventually be replaced. On the picture, Dickie is working at the fridge compressor in the lazarette. Peek a boo!
Today, we’ll work on the overflow from the holding tank. Not gone yet.
Getting Peregrine ready for the trip. Here, the two new panels on the right custom-made by Dickie for the electronics. Now, the fridge won’t work. Hopefully we can fix it and leave Tuesday.
Light and Love
I’m going to Bill’s class tomorrow. Here is what I wrote for my childhood best friend Marina, and what I’ll share in class if I have the nerve.
Marina asked how I felt after all these days of travelling. Before the trip, I thought I might find Stuart in the breeze, Bill’s “ruah,” the living breath. The breeze was too strong for me–hurricane Sandy drove me into a distress where I was going to quit and go join my Stuart on the other side. But then there was Dickie, and I could not quit on him.
I did not find Stuart in the breeze, but I found him in the light. In the gentle beauty of dawn; when water and sky still joined in the morning mist, start to seperate. This is where my Stuart lives now.
Water, sky and light are also the first elements of the Creation. Back in Atlanta, I looked it up: light is the first “good” thing God created. Before, the earth was formless and empty and the Spirit of God was “hovering” over the waters, which is rather spooky and not unlike how Hurricane Sandy felt. Then we get to the creation of light, and God finds it good, “and there was morning—the first day.”
Ten months after his death, Stuart came in a dream and shared his transformation into a shining light. He had become transparent, infused with light, and he embraced me in the purest kind of love. Light and love: I’m not trying to make full sense of it. I’m just going to let light come to me a little closer than before, for the beauty it brings forth morning after morning, and its comforting, loving warmth.
PS: Mokie remarked I wrote about what I cooked for dinners only once–hmm, my last entry may be about “dinners in the galley” after all. Just as important in its own way as the spiritual voyage.
Peregrine’s home
Peregrine arrived at her new home in SSI last night. Given the slip configuration, the wind was going to push her away from the dock, and combined with the strong tide, it was going to be the toughest docking of the trip. We waited for the tide to change, circling around until 5:30.
Oh, so much excitement. Would Peregrine’s momentum slowly move her away from the dock and I would reach out too much trying to loop the spring line around the dock cleat and fall in the water and Peregrine unattached would crash into the boat next to us?
As night was falling and tide changing, we sloooooowly made our way toward the dock, and passed a couple in their boat, and surely they looked at beautiful Peregrine, and he did the boater thing of coming to help us. Whew, no drowning or crashing. I have to report that Dickie brought Peregrine tightly to the dock in the most perfect manner, and I had time to loop the spring line around the cleat before handing the bowline to our kind helper.
And so we made it.
Diabolo
Albin and Mokie joined us for dinner at the marina in Thunderbolt, close to Savannah. It will take Peregrine two more days to get to Saint-Simons Island—which normally takes a little over an hour by car. That is, if we get going this morning after our festive dinner. (An hour later: we did!)
Mokie and Albin looked so handsome. It took me by surprise: I’ve seen so much beauty in nature lately, but oh, they look just every bit as awesome. Mokie had brought a crusty baguette we judged to be as close to the real thing as you can get on this side of the ocean; mousse pâté with cognac and jelly (guess what we’ll have for lunch); triple cream Daphinois (our favorite cheese—we’ll keep it for dinner); and Sancerre wine (no leftover there). So delicious and how sweet! We have not been grocery shopping since Annapolis. We found out that we did not need as much dry food as we had packed. Vegetables we left in the open had a longer life expectancy, but it may be because Peregrine is often not much higher in temp than a fridge—so this may not be true in our next trip. We still have lettuce and tomatoes for our last meal tonight (our last meal!). Mokie asked if we were looking forward to going back to Atlanta. A question I could not answer. I found peace on the boat, and whether it’s something I can bring back home, I don’t know.
We also had shrimp for dinner we had bought at the dock in Georgetown (and peeled) especially for this occasion. Whether it was good, we’ll never know. I shook the red pepper bottle on it while cooking, but it did not have a plastic cover with holes on it. The shrimp was “diabolo” all right. Nothing a little Sancerre did not wash away.
sv PEREGRINE 