They sat on deck, drinks at hand, watching the moon rise over Salem Harbor. The clouds made the light fitful, like watching a candle struggle against the wind. Beneath the moonrise, airport traffic out of Logan was a constant counterpoint; jetliners taking off launched to the east, out over the ocean, and sailed away, while inbound traffic made big looping arcs around them before lining up for final approach.
“It just feels like we’ve lost sight of the original goal,” he said. “It’s been more than three years since we actually cast off a mooring line and raised a sail. I almost feel like I’ve forgotten how to do any of it.”
“I know. It’s discouraging for sure,” she replied. She was uncoiling a hank of line, then recoiling it, over and over, something to keep her hands busy. “But you know that’s not real. Once we’re back on the water, we’ll know exactly what to do, and how. We haven’t lost any of that.” Then added, “And you know that.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I’m just struggling with having all this repair work to get done before we splash the boat. I told you what my cousin Lacy said didn’t I?”
“Maybe you did- I don’t remember.”
“I told her how much I didn’t want to do this work, and she asked maybe it’s more ‘you want to NOT have to do it’?” he smiled ruefully. “It’s a pretty subtle difference, but yeah, that’s more what it is.” After a short pause, “Mostly it’s just driving me crazy to be stuck here in the boatyard when our plan was to be heading for Maine by now.”
“Yup” was all she said.
They sat silent for a while, nursing their drinks and looking out over the water. The harbor lights were flashing red and green on the channel, and several of the boats on their moorings were lit up, people staying aboard to enjoy the short sailing season.
She took another sip of wine, and then said, “You don’t still feel like we made a mistake getting this boat, do you? I thought we had hashed that out…”
“Nah,” he replied, “I’m over that. We made the decision based on the best information we had at the time. Would you still want to be living in Rockport and fixing up all the damage on O Be Joyful? I know I wouldn’t. And, repairs aside, Gabrielle is still a really good boat, y’know.”
“Omigod yes!” she answered. “I so much love the layout, and the storage. She’s going to be great once we get her fixed up and in the water! And the work you are doing now will make her so much safer and more seaworthy. It’s all going to be fine.”
He finished his beer and stood up. “Yeah, well, we’d best go to bed then. I’ve got another thousand or so zip ties to cut tomorrow, and yank out another fifty pounds of abandoned, unlabeled wiring. Have I ever told you how much it pisses me off to have to come in and clean up behind the idiot who did such a crappy job of wiring?”
“Uhm, yes dear. Many times.”
“Well, it’s true.” He looked around on deck for a moment before he started down the companionway, and then muttered, “She really is a good boat…”
I ‘novelized’ our thoughts and feelings over the last few weeks into the passage above- it seemed like the best way to let y’all know where we’re at with this.
We’re good. Lot’s of work yet to do, but then again, no time limit other than our own expectations. The boatyard people are completely OK with us camping out here, and they are friendly and generous to a fault. We couldn’t ask for a better situation to deal with our situation, if you know what I mean.
So this is just a quick update- I’ll post some detail in the next day or so. I’ve pulled most of the old wire, and now I’m on to RE-wiring old stuff. Back to it!
You guys make an amazing team. Big hugs.
Lee, Kate,
I love this “novelized” style. Very well written, and more interesting than normal blog “we scraped hull today”. Keep up, got a saleable book in the making! Love Danny (I read it to Claudia).