What's it like living on a boat, you ask? Here are some simple experiences - in no particular order:
Dewy deck. Damp clothes. Salty bottoms. Static radios. Heavy air. Sticky fingers and tacky skin. Snorkel gear. Full sails. Flapping sails. Lapping waves. Stars so plentiful they make you gasp. Never missing a sundowner. Simple meals that taste delicious. Canned goods. Jack Johnson. Angling the solar panel. Turning off the engine. Coral heads. Charts, charts, and more charts. Palm trees. Anxiety, anticipation. Coconuts. Machetes. Yum. Rum. Sarongs. Checking the battery meter. Checking for chafe. Sleeping on deck. Red wine. Laughter. Love. Sound carrying over water. Tropical birds - the kind with the wispy long tails. Calm. Peace. Slowing down. Bob Marley. Spectacular colors. Checking the engine oils. New horizons. Wondering "where to next?". Using just a quarter of the paper towel. Building wind. Fronts on the horizon. Rainbows. Squalls. Finding the sunny spot like a cat in a window. Reading an entire book in a day. Bernard Moitessier. Poetry. Outdoor showers on deck. Sunbathing topless. Morning cup of tea. The smell of suntan lotion. Thankful every day. Rust. Crusty salt. The flag flapping in the breeze. Doing dishes in a bucket of saltwater. Wrinkled fingers. Stingrays. Sharks. Bungee chords. Making water. Charging batteries. Colorful fishing lures. Fresh fish. Leaving the boat with no shoes. Wonderful new friends.
The general feeling that anything...yes, anything is possible.
Love,
Brittany & Scott
3 comments:
A bit overstated on one point - one is lucky to get a quarter of a paper towel on the Rasmus - the rest sounds like heaven!
I've wanted that lifestyle for so long I can't remember. The yearning sometimes almost brings me to tears...someday.....
Well-stated, Brittany.
To Bill: Just do it. "Someday" you'll be dead. The wife and I are almost ready. The house is gone, kids mostly grown, things in storage sold, life pruned down. Start planning and just do it.
Post a Comment