Thursday, June 28, 2007

Georgetown, Exumas, Bahamas

0 nm
Wind: E 15-20 knots, heavy showers and thunderstorms in the morning

Today was a last, desperate flurry to get absolutely everything we need from town before we leave. We had talked about our plans for two days straight, and everything went like clockwork: chart, phone calls, faxes, provisions, marine supplies, water. It had stormed all morning, so we were afraid that we wouldn’t be able to be ready to leave by tomorrow. I began to pace around the cabin like a maniac, putting stuff away, tidying. If I can’t get out of here by Saturday, as soon as this weather window opens, I’m going to crack up.

But the weather settled down in the afternoon, the rain ending and the wind quieting a little, and Karl decided the row was doable. We’ve both realized it’s a higher priority now. Earlier on in our time in Georgetown we would have twiddled our fingers and spent the afternoon at the boat, but today the chore-doing was at crisis level. We have to get this stuff done, or we can’t leave. Period. End of story.

I only wish we had realized that two weeks ago. I wish we had been at that stage before the radio got here. Karl keeps blaming everything on the radio, but the truth is we used the radio as an excuse to do nothing. And now that we’ve actually accomplished everything that we needed to, I don’t understand why we didn’t do it before.

What it boils down to is that living on a boat is just plain hard work. There’s so much to do: water and fuel to keep full, food to keep fresh and edible, cooking and washing dishes and keeping the mildew and condensation at bay, rot and osmosis and bottom growth to fight, endless boat projects to accomplish and new ones that are thought up every day--when you add in time for enjoyment of your surroundings, diving, fishing, and touring, there’s barely time for cruising! And by cruising, I mean the actual business of moving the boat from one place to another. That’s the most work of all--making sure everything has a place so that if the boat heels over 45 degrees and then gets hit by a wave everything in the boat won’t be destroyed, and then the actual sailing. Karl insists that we know how to sail by now, but I’m not sure that we do. We haven’t had that much actual sail time, to be perfectly frank. We feel like we have, and we have a lot more than most of the other boaters we see out here, but still don’t have enough. Not nearly.

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