Life on the sea has been replaced by life on the hard. The sounds of waves lapping the hull are
replaced by paint scrapers tapping the hull as workers arrive at the gel coat. Wind
howling in the rigging becomes the corrugated metal garage door opening for
business at 7:00. Crying gulls have
become cooing doves.
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| Rafael extracts the Perkins |
Our one step up
from the dinghy is now a 12 foot climb up the ladder. The daily din of sanders,
grinders, buffers, and compressors, mixed with the distant traffic and train
whistles replace the deep calm of isolated anchorages. We now drive in our car to the ocean, smell
the once so familiar salty sea and feel the saline smoothness on our skin. We jump into waves, let them push and roll us
in awe of her power, remembering when we rode the ocean in our giant saddle on
the sea, the sailboat Traveler.
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| Surgery performed |
Here she
sits on stilts with me in her belly, waiting patiently while we do things to
her. Yesterday we pulled out her engine
with a crane, like a bad tooth. Can it
be saved? Hoses removed like clogged arteries, we are her surgeons tracing the
wires of her nervous system making detailed maps to assure everything goes back
in its proper place. It’s only a matter
of time, though, before she is released into the wild where her wings will
fill with the wind that makes all our hearts soar. Traveler and her travelers will prevail! Life
on the hard….
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| At anchor, in better days |
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