Never say Never

April 20, 2020 by s/v sionna 6 Comments

There’s an old saying that goes “Never say Never”. 

It’s intended, I suppose, to acknowledge that you really never know what’s coming next; where life will lead you, what obstacles and opportunities (which is which, anyway?) the Universe is going to throw your way. 

I’ve been horribly lax about the blog this trip, and the phrase “Publish or Perish” applies in blogging as well as in academic circles. If you don’t post, your followers drift away to greener pastures as surely as tides rise and fall.

Still, for those few who have stuck with us and might be wondering what’s up, I thought I’d take a few minutes – anchored out for a couple days while yet another nasty weather systems passes by – to offer up some thoughts and revelations.

Heavy rain, 30 knot winds, temps in the 50’s. Every couple of days…

Revelations I: Self-isolating when you live on a cruising boat is very little different from normal Cruising. We worry a bit more about protecting ourselves from the virus because we’re a long way from home, and getting to the ER if we needed to could be a real challenge. Otherwise the lifestyle is it’s own form of isolation anyway.

Revelations II: Being unable to go ashore is very different from not FEELING like going ashore. We’ve often just stayed on the boat, day-after-day, not going ashore because we didn’t feel like it, but that has a distinctly different feel when compared to we CAN’T go ashore because everything is closed – including docks and marinas and boat ramps. Right now we’ve been on the boat continuously for 16 days, and it’s been cold/blustery/wet for over half that time, so we’re cohabitating in a room that has less than 50 square feet of open space. Neither of us has taken a full, normal-length stride (or a real shower!) in over two weeks. Sure, the whole country is confined to their homes – but those homes are mostly 2000 square feet or more. This is different.

Life in 50 square feet is… Different.

Revelations III: This isn’t fun, mostly. Sometime early in our adventures Nicki stated “I don’t do Endurance Sports.” In truth, I don’t either, although I think at one point my tolerance for situations requiring Endurance was higher than hers – and certainly higher than it is now.
But like it or not, the cruise north has become one long challenge of endurance. The weather has frequently been abominable; access to simple things like toilet paper and tofu is a distant memory; and we the crew of Sionna have become chronically weary. Certainly there are moments and days when the weather is lovely and our progress is smooth, but those have been few. That, combined with the limitations of this dear old vessel, whom we love like a sister, have led us to acknowledgement of the fourth Revelation.

Young black bear swimming in front of us on the Alligator-Pungo canal. THAT was fun!

Revelations IV: We three (the boat and us) are done long-distance Cruising.
Sionna has many fine attributes as a vessel and floating home, but her design was never intended to cross oceans, and that limitation has become obvious these last few months, even to someone as deep in denial as yours truly. Yes, she’s strong, and she would survive a storm at sea, but her ability to keep moving in adverse conditions while keeping her crew healthy and reasonably comfortable is simply lacking. She wasn’t built for it. Local cruising, a month or two, a few hundred miles from home? Of course. (Canadian Maritimes, anyone?)

And finally, Revelations V: Community matters.
With the Rehab of our house in Maine, Nicki and I became home-owners for the first time in our relationship. With that responsibility comes the desire to begin integrating fully into the community that surrounds our home. Nicki can build up her fitness class business again; I can find more outlets for my music interests (Guitar, Ukulele and vocals, if anyone’s thinking of starting a band!); the house can get finished and my workshop/boat shed built…
Above all, we can start living in Rockland as though it’s home, rather than just the place we go when we aren’t “home on the boat”. Sure it’s cold in the winter. But it’s heaven in the summer, and contrast is the seasoning of a happy life.

Goodbye to the sunny south.

We’re headed home, and home we shall stay – except for the occasional Home Exchange, if that works out. 

Provence, France, perhaps?