It’s been a week since we’ve been back aboard Camino, and it’s time to share a few thoughts with you about the transition back to boat life.
It’s not as hot as when we left. In the Ship’s Log feature I update, the temperatures may look the same as in the summer—around 30-32 degrees Celsius (86-90 F)—but the humidity is much less, and since the days are shorter now, we are losing an hour of afternoon heating. The sun dips behind the hills at 1725, as opposed to 1830 in the summer. And its angle is changed, which contributes to a difference.
The wind still blows, and we had one night where it howled and pitched us around, but the breeze is a more consistent 15-25 knots during the day, right out of the east.
There is less rain, or so our water tanks tell us. Over the summer we had only to leave the rain catcher out and the tanks would be topped off regularly. But now we are getting only the occasional shower, and we have had to resort to buying water—which is not a terrible thing, because that means a trip to Whisper Cove Marina, and that means happy hour. Cheers.
Camino was in excellent shape when we returned. We’ve run the engine a couple of times, and it purrs nicely. We need now to get the bottom scraped again, and we will schedule that over the next couple of weeks. We have scheduled a rigger to come out and check our standing and running rigging. We know there is work to do there, and we are trying to decide if that is an immediate need or an end of the season need. The boat will need to be hauled out either way.
Rigging update: Louis from Turbulence LTD came out and checked out our rigging and said it is in good shape. Some parts--the stays--are excellent, and there is only small areas that we need to clean and lubricate. So we will schedule a haul out in the spring.
More boat projects: We visited Island Dreams Project Management to see if they might be helpful in some of the work we need done. They were a referral from Chantal’s cousin, who lives in Antigua and has make a life in the yachting world. When we walked in the office and told the co-owner what we were up to, she said, “So, you are living the dream!” There was a fair amount of reality ground into that statement. Living the dream means accepting the reality. So go chase your dreams, and your reality will always be a better place.
We adapted back quickly to the rhythm of life here. That means not trying to get too much done, because it ain’t happening. Grenada is just now coming out of a two-month Covid lockdown, and there isn’t a lot of stock on the island. So boat projects that require marine hardware need to relax.
Food. Ah, food. We’ve returned to the church of Six-Day Vegetarians. Any meat eating is done off-boat. One thing we have changed is how we shop. IGA delivers, and we take advantage of that. We are not eager to go back to riding the bus. And the schlepping is onerous. So delivery it is.
Booze is an issue…as in, we can’t seem to get what we want when we want it. Rum excluded (we have our excellent Clarkes Court Dark Rum delivered, grace a dieu), getting beer and wine is a pain in ass. Currently there are no cans of either Stag or Carib beer available on island. And getting bottles means schlepping (both ways) plus you have a lot of glass on the boat, and that’s bad. And wine is a disaster, except at the bars, which seem to have a good selection of Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Grigio. But good white wines are scarce, and our preferred method of viniferous conveyance—box wine—comes only with a sweet white variety. Gag. Pray for us.
These reflections are picayune and meaningless in the larger scale of general suffering that occurs in the world. The observations here are intended to give the reader a few moments of escape, an insight into a different way of living. We are deeply grateful for the blessings in our lives, our family and friends, and we hope that these infrequent posts encourage you to do what you do best: dream.