Woke up: Off the coast of Pyramid Point, OR
Went to Sleep: Off the coast of Puntagorda, CA
If you want to know the truth, I do not particularly enjoy sleep deprivation. An overnight passage requires each of us to be on deck, in our foulies, on alert for four hours followed by four hours sleep/rest. Luckily the shifts I’ve selected for myself are the fairly benign ones – noon to 4 pm, 8 pm to midnight, 4 am to 8 am – leaving Peter the dreaded midnight to 4 am shift. He doesn’t seem to mind.
The hardest part of my watch, though, is the shear boredom. Sitting in the cockpit, staring at the ocean is boring. Perhaps someday I’ll cross over to the type of person who stares out into the ocean and derives profound insight and wisdom, but, for now, I’m just bored and wish I had something to do.
It would be different if I could lounge in the warm sunshine and immerse myself in a good book. Unfortunately, its been foggy for 2 days and reading is difficult because every 2 minutes I have to stand up to survey the horizon, the radar, the GPS and the AIS. That’s 120 times in four hours I set down my book and stand up to check our status.
I asked Peter if I could sand the cockpit floor. He said, “No. Sanding is verboten.” He’s concerned the teak is already thinning from wear and I’ll remove precious material. I’ve tried coloring but the motion of the boat makes it hard to stay inside the lines.
We’re Not Going to Mars; We’re Only Going to Cabo
These are the words Peter uses to comfort me when I feel sad for the many wonderful friends I just said good-bye to. Peter says, “It’s not good-bye, honey. It’s just, ‘See you later’.” And, I feel a little better.
I ask myself, “Susan! Why do you do this to yourself? Don’t you remember how hard it was when we left Bend and moved onto the boat?”
I guess it’s a choice. Some people choose to live in the same town and/or work at the same job for decades. I honor the stability and continuity that comes with that choice. Some people choose to quit, to leave, to try something new.
Right now, I am absolutely not happy to fall into the second category. I miss our slip at the marina. I miss the island. I miss my bike ride. I miss my friends and family. Right now, with the thick fog outside and minor sleep deprivation, this feels like the wrong choice. This feels like a one way ticket to Mars.