Had an interesting convo with Tracy a few nights ago. i’m not too sure where we got started, but talk ended up being about just being here, and the commitment required. She brought up the interesting point that James has been trying to get one of his close woodworking friends to move down here for years, but that the fellow couldn’t make himself take the leap. She reiterated that they both felt that it was pretty incredible that i’d made a many-years commitment to working and being here based on just a few weeks of knowing them, and knowing this place.
Sailing has really taught me that; once you get out there, there’s no turning back. i’ve been dreaming and scheming about a life on the water for years. The one great thing that held me back (though i never realized it at the time) was my own fear of failure. i’ve always been the sort of person who has been strong at the sound of the gun, but usually too short-winded for the long haul. i knew that much, at least, and it was really important to me that i make a real proper go of it. i was just unaware of how frightened i was of the alternative.
Since i started sailing a couple years ago, i’ve become less frightened, yet more aware that i must succeed. i must do the hard things, and make the commitment. The reward is larger in my mind than the trade-offs. However, it seems like i may end up leaving alot of loved one in my lee to get there. i got a letter a couple days ago from Marla in Ukie, asking my opinion on what to do or where to place “my” cat Boiler. Boiler was the only true and honest companion i’ve ever had, and i’ve left him behind to chase the sea. Boiler is in good hands, but am i? i wonder…
My last relationship was ended, in part, by fear; fear of a shared future, fear of losing self control, fear of commitment. Fear of going back to the Caribbean. These are fears to which i shall not myself succumb. For some people, the grass will always be greener on the other side of the fence, but there’s no fences where i’m headed. My course is set for me, for i’ve set it so. Things scare me; i will overcome them. Life is hard; i will survive. The world is full of hatred and apathy; i will continue loving. False friends abound; i will remain true.
Ultimate commitment, i guess, is not a promise to anyone else. It’s a promise to myself.

Up early, a fair breakfast in m’belly, and off to the boatyard to collect my electrical tools. Mike met me on the dock around 8:30, and Spencer drove the tender over from La Buscadora to take us out. So started a great Saturday!

(more…)

After a leisurely morning coffee and another tour (this time it was from the Owner/Captain instead of the Chef/Mate), i set to some electrical work in the galley and bilge. The electrical work is a nice break from the usual boatyard grind.
Mike wanted me to do the work (i’m not too sure where/how my reputation has preceded me, but at least it’s positive!), but we hadn’t agreed on a price. Well, i hate to talk money like that, but Mike is a pretty straight-forward and practical guy… and also a certified PADI divemaster who owns a luxury dive-charter business. Hmmm…
So, instead of the usual $40-$60/hour that a marine electrician might charge to drive out from town and do the work, we agreed on $25/hour plus all the scuba diving and private scuba instruction i can manage to fit in between now and their next charter… in late December. Not a bad deal at all!
Spencer and Brodie, the couple that crews the boat, are incredible hosts. They provided me with a great lunch, a fantastic dinner, and more rum & cokes than are probably healthy. Spencer is from the US east coast, but who (through family connections) holds dual US-Canadian citizenship. A fine sailor, a knowledgeable fellow, and a fantastic chef! Brodie is actually from Bowen Island on the BC coast, but whose family is divided between here and there; she’s lived just about everywhere in between, it seems. i find it inspiring to meet a young couple travelling and adventuring together on the water.
We rounded out the evening with many tall tales, a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit, and a whooping midnight leap 16 feet or so off the flybridge into the dark salty warmth of the Caribbean Sea.
A fine end to a fine day!

wood and water… my dual elements here!

barefoot on La Buscadora