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Wind: E 10-15 knots
Our breakfast this morning was delicious: whole silver fish pan-fried by Karl in oil, with nothing added except a little hot sauce and some lime. I felt like Jesus as I gnawed on the fins and dug for the cheek meat--he’s always feeding his disciples fish for breakfast. There’s little better, and there’s little else we can expect for the next couple of months. Maybe we’ll start experiencing the fountain of youth effect enjoyed by the Bahamians.
I’m having a hard time getting used to having nowhere to go. The wind’s been beautiful for us to get down to the Plana Cays for the last three days, but we’re not going to the Plana Cays. We’re not going anywhere. There’s no reason for us to leave here, not for months. It’s a hard adjustment.
I’m baking flaxseed bread again today. We haven’t even gone through all our supplies, though the tomatoes are really low, and a little soft. I used three of the last of them for a tomato salad for dinner. I suppose we don’t have much to occupy us but food and the act of getting it. I keep wanting to go spend a thoroughgoing beach-combing day over on the island, but it feels a little too touristy.
The hard time I’ve been having with not leaving was expected, I suppose. I do find myself thinking about the farm in Maine, thinking about my family and friends, thinking about graduate school programs or learning to snowshoe or hiking trails or kayaking. Karl’s been talking about building wooden kayaks or sailing dinghies or felling cypress on his land to build a new boat for us, when he’s not perusing the boats for sale in the back of Cruising World. All of this still gives me a twinge. I feel like I’m betraying Secret, and I’m having a hard time being happy about it. I knew this, though. There’s nothing to be done about it.
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