Us very scared before take off
We were as nervous as two ticks on a frying pan. I would have chewed my nails down to the quick, if it wasn't for the toxic chemicals that have stained them black. The pressure of the preparations was getting to me, as I watched while "the men" turned knobs, tapped guages, and ran around with screw drivers and pliers. Wasn't it a little too late for pliers? The silently waiting motors told me nothing.
Diesel smoke fills the air, ahhhhh
Then, with a roar and a belch of smoke the beasts came to life. The pliers worked! Suddenly, magically, the mighty Lucy Maru was fully awake, shuddering from her own power, every plank and line swollen with the anticipation of a voyage. Her voice, a low deep rumble, was steady and reassuring. She told me, in that moment, that she will take care of us, just like we took care of her. She understood, she really understood.
Leaving the dock
As promised, we slid thru the water at an easy 6 knots, idle speed. Heading in between channel markers and crab pots, I thought of the differences between motor boating and sailing. 6 knots was fast sailing, while aboard this motor vessel we were hardly breaking a sweat. Am I gonna be able to give this up? Can I truly follow the unreliable, invisible force known as wind, to move me across the world? Can I give up the control and luxury that comes with a motor yacht, for something as unpredictable as a sail boat? While all that remains a mystery, I offered a silent THANK YOU to the universe for allowing me to even ponder those possibilities.
Drawbridge ahead
It was time to get nervous again, as we were nearing our unknown destination. Joe was at the helm, asking questions like, "what's the number of that marker?" and "where the hell is this place?" Soon we approached a dock with three men waving, ready to grab our dock lines. This was the place, now only to squeeze into the slip without damaging the good side of the boat.
Our friend Joe driving L.M
Joe, morning tequila shot and all, was steady at the helm, expertly guiding our boat into the narrow slip facing the railway. The men on the dock grabbed our lines, and within minutes we were securely nestled into our spot. Lucy Maru rolled off the last of the water that splashed onto her deck, and floated, gleaming in the sunlight. Her first trip in over four years, and our first trip ever, went smoothly. More them smoothly, smeauthly... and I swear she was smiling as we stepped off deck. Perhaps she knew what lay ahead...
6 comments:
I'm so happy for you guys. Ya'll put a lot of love into her and she's now paying back. And when you get that feeling of trying to decide power or sail.... just do that Tim Allen Tool Man grunt. That should answer your question.
And save that sailboat for those lazy days or looooong vacations. I don't see anything wrong with either one.
Whhhhoooohooooo! That's a big boat!
Tequila shots help.
She's five times as big out of the water...reeally big, kind like what painting a footbal field would be like, upside down of course...
Jomamma, I tired the Tim Allen grunt, no answers!
Did you put too much of that question grunt on the end? Be positive.. I'm so envious. I was hoping one of the changes that the hubby would have from the chemo would be a longing to go to sea. No such luck. But his hair grew back nice and thick!
I recommend playing a lot of Jimmy Buffet, any chance you get. Maybe encourage him to play some Pirate Looks at 40 on his mandolin. That's sure to get him into cruising, or at least bobbing on the water.
But please save your envy for when we are drinking frozen beverages, sprawled on deck in some tropical paradise. Cuba perhaps?
Hey that's a great idea about having him learn Jimmy Buffet music! But the bobbing is a problem, we're talking about a guy who would get seasick in a bath tub watching Ivory soap. If we hear a thump in the bathroom we run in there thinking he's passed out because he watched the toilet flush. There's not much hope when it comes to him being seaworthy.
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