We’ve been home on dry land for only two months now, but apparently it’s long enough to grow roots. It’s a little strange to think that there was a time when we called Ginger Lee our home. We’d be out on a dinghy adventure, hanging with new acquaintances on the dock, or maybe checking out the town in one of over 200 ports we found ourselves in. When we said “Let’s head home,” we meant our floating one.
I can’t speak for the XO, but my brain is not quite recalibrated to full landlubber status. It’s going to take a while longer after cruising full-time for a year. It required constant awareness and every little thing had to be considered. There were no days off from that. I lived nearer to the edge of my comfort zone than I ever thought possible.
The other day I was driving down the road in my old Jeep. “How easy is this?” I thought. It’s like one-dimensional, just keep it between the lines. Not so boats. They move in all directions at the same time. They pitch, roll, yaw, and are easily influenced by wind and current. You’ve got to keep an eye on your depth as well as your air height. And don’t ever count on getting the right-of-way from fellow mariners because most of them, I’m sorry to say, are obviously ignorant of the rules. Boats could pass you on either side coming or going. It’s a lot to think about.
So now here we are at home. The house and the ground doesn’t move so there is no need to figure out where we go next and how will we get there. We have real flush toilets! There is no need to find a pump-out facility. Water and gas are piped into the house so there are no tanks to fill. We no longer need to check the lines, fenders, anchor, batteries, or bilges. The grocery, liquor store, pizza shop, and gas station are all right down the street. Our laundry can be washed right in the basement without quarters! Suddenly, everything is a no-brainer. What the heck am I going to think about now?
Well there’s plenty of stuff to think about. It’s just different stuff. Stuff I forgot about. Like that fence that needs replacing, and the garage that needs cleaning out. The lawn, the old carpet in the sun room, the bad dog down the street, the annoying leaf blowers. The list goes on and on.
Travel is good and important, but it’s also good to have a place to come home to. It’s not as exciting as passing a tugboat pushing 40 barges on the Mississippi. Or as frightening as a boat full of drunk teenagers zooming right at you in the dark, but I’ve come to see it as another chapter in the book of life. We add pages every day we are alive. Hopefully, there will be many more to come. SOCOBO 8/13/18