Love Odyssey

We are at anchor in Taylor’s Creek in Beaufort. We came here yesterday morning on a whim. Sometimes you just need a change of scenery and routine. We are anticipating the beginning of a long winter when we have to stay in dock, so we thought this might be one of our last trips of the season.

It is beautiful here. There are lots of boats anchored out in anticipation of heading south to the islands. Most cruisers leave late November at the end of hurricane season. Yesterday we were mistaken for cruisers by many of the local shopkeepers–until Bryce bought a heavy winter jacket that was on sale–no, you certainly won’t need that in the islands!

We also had fun showing off our new baby! Everywhere we went both women and men wanted to see and hold our little angel, Suzie-Q. She is so tiny and so cute learning how to walk on a leash–a ferret harness and leash, since we couldn’t find a dog set that was small enough for her.

Today looks like it will be warmer than yesterday, so we are planning to take a dinghy ride down to the end of Taylor’s Creek. With our first two sailboats we could do this because they only drew 2-3 feet, but this one would surely get stuck–but the dinghy can go anywhere! I want to see how much the area has grown with houses since last we were there–and of course, we want to watch the ferral horses on Bird Shoal and Carrot Islands. Sounds like a good plan for a pretty day!

Helen–11/20/10

For the past two day we have been scraping and sanding the bottom of our boat. While engaged in this chore, I seem to be bouyed on by my enthusiasm to get the job done, but as soon as I stop the shoulders and back begin to ache. Same for Bryce although he seems to have more stamina than me. Yes, we are really feeling our ages as we work. I keep wondering if I would hurt as much if I had to do this kind of work every day. I suspect muscles would strengthen with daily use; however, I don’t think I am going to find out in this lifetime.

I have to admit that my compulsive nature helps me to stay on task and get the job done. I even get into the Zen of just scraping and letting my mind rest. This certainly has its pluses. I also enjoy seeing the fruits of my physical labor- I can stand back and see how much I accomplished. This is so different than what I do as a therapist during the week. I may work with a child for several weeks or even months before a real change is noticeable. 

Tomorrow we will begin to re-paint our boat’s bottom.  I know I will let the Zen of painting take over and I will periodically stand back and admire our handiwork.  Not until we finish will I feel the aches and pains that my muscles and joints are sending out.

Helen–04/10/10

Friday we put our boat “on the hard”. We do this every spring–it’s the boater’s rite of passage. Just when the spring fever hits and you are dying to get out on the water with your craft, you take her to the boat yard and get her hauled out for about a month. You ask, “why do you do that?” Because by the time ole man winter has left town, your boat is looking pretty shabby. The white fiberglass has turned gray with numerous streaks running down the sides from rusted screws and God knows what else, your bottom is covered with a coat of slime and the odd barnacle, the deck is dirty and faded, and your sacrificial zincs have been totally sacrificed.

So on Friday we took her about two miles from our marina to Deaton’s Boat Yard and had her hauled and placed on the hard. It’s called “on the hard” for a reason. Not only is the boat sitting on hard ground but her owners are doing hard work while she enjoys her yearly spa. First of all, our boat is propped up on jack stands. She has a six foot keel, so to enter the boat you have to climb up a twelve foot ladder, and of course, you never go up empty-handed. No, you are always going up or down that ladder carrying bags of heavy things like tools, sanders, waxers, etc. or the dog. Yes, by the end of the day you know that your calves got quite a workout!

So Friday we got the boat put on the hard and then we surveyed her dirty top sides. We started by washing down the white fiberglass hull with Hull Cleaner. She was still pretty grimey and had quite a few stains, so out came the heavier duty cleaners–quite an arsonal of products that required hours of back-breaking scrubbing. We have a navy blue stripe that is about a foot wide and runs the length of the boat. It seemed no amount of scrubbing was going to get that clean and free from chalky build-up. Then we moved on to the heavy duty compound which after two applications finally restored the color. By this time it was nightfall and we dutifully fell into bed.

Saturday we tacked the big job of waxing our hull. Now you have to understand that we do this while perched up on a scaffold that is five feet off the ground and about two by six feet long. Bryce, having larger biceps than me, weilded the waxer while I went behind him and took off the wax with old towels saved for just this purpose. After the first half hour we had the dance perfected–he would apply the wax, then move gingerly behind me while I stepped forward and removed it with my towels. One mis-step and one of us could fall and break an arm or leg. We continued this dance, moving the scaffold about every fifteen minutes. It took a good part of the day to wax a forty foot boat. By the end of Saturday we were both feeling muscles we didn’t even know we had. A Gold’s Gym exercise instructor could not have given us a more thorough workout!

Today Bryce, glutton for punishment that he is, decided to apply another coat of wax. He said the second coat always goes faster, but I declined to dance an encore again. Instead, I used a paint scraper and began the tedious task of scrapping off peeling bottom paint. Why, you ask, do we paint the bottom when no one will see it when the boat is in the water. Well, boats in sea water and brackish water will soon become homes for barnacles without a coat of ablative paint. So each year we add a coat of bottom paint which does a good job of discouraging encrustration; however, after several layers of paint, it begins to check and peel. So we scrape and sand before adding more paint.

As you can see, life “on the hard” is hard work! Next weekend we will continue to scrape and sand–probably for a couple of days. Then if we are lucky weather-wise, on the third weekend we will paint our boat’s bottom–which is another exercise in bending and stretching muscles we haven’t used much in awhile. Of course, the plus side is that we will have nice defined biceps, calve muscles, and be as flexible as any yoga student by the time May and bathing suit season begins!

Tune in next weekend for our latest up-date on our boat’s spa month! And by the way, are there any people out there reading this blog? I would love to hear your comments or questions.

Helen 04/04/10

This was one of those magical weekends that you never want to end. We got to spend three days on the boat with our almost five years old grandson, Andrew. I don’t want to brag, but he really is the sweetest, smartest, and most articulate child I have ever met. On Friday, we took him on the Minnesott ferry across the Neuse River to Cherry Branch. He had never been on a ferry boat and this became his highlight of the weekend. Now I must admit, from his point of view what could be more spectacular than standing outside on the bow of the boat, sun streaming overhead, warm, soft breezes, gulls hovering and squawking overhead, while a raft of vehicles are being magically towed over the water, just inches above the surface. The ride back in the late afternoon was just as exhillerating for him and to think that this much pleasure cost nothing!

Friday morning at 10:30 we arrived at the NC Aquarium at Indian Beach, nestled on a narrow spit of the island between Bogue Sound and the Atlantic Ocean. Andrew happily ran from one exhibit to the next, relishing all the varieties of fishes and other sea life on display in huge tanks. At times I wished I were on roller skates to keep up with him! I’m sure the divers in the shark tank was his favorite exhibit.

After lunch at a local diner, we headed to Beaufort to see the boats and pirate treasures at the Maritime Museum. Then back on the magical ferry again for our ride across the river.

Yesterday the weather was sunny but decididly much cooler with blustery winds that made it feel more like winter than early spring. We had to forego the dinghy ride because of a “small craft advisory”, so instead we took Mitzie-Sue, our little Yorkie, to the Oriental Pet Parade. Now the folks in this town are very serious animal lovers and I have yet to meet anyone who does not own at least one dog. It seemed like everyone in town showed up with their pooches, some dressed up in lavish costumes to match the owners, others more creative, such as the two large labradors in stripped prisoner outfits dragging a ball and chain while the owner was attired in police uniform. Just watching all the novel entries was entertainment enough, but of course this would not be Oriental if they did not have prizes for a variety of categories, like “most unusual”, “cutest”, “looks most like owner”, etc. Andrew had a wonderful time parading our “little princess” in her black and pink princess shirt that stated “Princess is not just a word, but an attitude”. Of course the competition was pretty stiff with over a hundred entries and we did not win a prize. This did not hurt Andrew’s feelings, but he kept reassuring Mitzie that she should not be sad and that he would bring her a toy from the pet store the next time he saw her. We kept telling him that Mitzie didn’t understand and she was alright, but our sweet little boy wanted to make her feel better!

Saturday afternoon we dyed Easter eggs and then grandpa Bryce got to show Andrew his helicopter. We fly the chopper (all 12 inches of it) in a large bath-house at the marina. Since grandpa hadn’t flown it in a year, it took him a few minutes to get the hang of getting it airborne without crashing. Andrew took great delight in watching the show but never once asked to fly it (of course, he has one at home, too–that’s where Bryce got the idea a couple of Christmases ago).

Yes, a good time was had this weekend by all participants! I must admit, it is so much more fun being a grandma than a mother–you can spoil them rotten and then hand them back to their parents. “You don’t want to eat your eggs for breakfast? OK, how about a brownie?” No problem nibbling on your chocolate rabbit five minutes before supper-time. A bag of chips before lunch–why not? Yes, we let our grandchildren break all those sacred rules that our own children had to follow. After all, we want to be remembered for all the fun stuff–yes, being a grandparent is my reward for all those years of parenting!

Helen- 03/28/10

Yes, we finally took the boat out of the slip! Hurray! We decided to sail to New Bern since we only had two days. I should amend that to “motor” rather than “sail”, since we had absolutely no wind–the water was as still as a millpond. But that was alright; I just needed to get a brief respite from the “same old, same old” of fixing things and installing items on the boat.

We left at 7:00 a.m. just as the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon–a beautiful sunrise with the promise of a perfect day. And really we could not have ordered a more perfect day for the end of March and the first day of spring. The day dawned with clear blue skies and the promise of warm, sweet air. We had not a cloud in the sky all day.

We arrived at the New Bern Grande Marina at 10:30 and tied up on the seawall in front of some pretty huge motor yachts worth many millions. By 11:00 we were strolling through the farmers market and sampling the relishes, brownies, and chutneys while eying all the sundry wares for sale. We spied a roof-top restaurant that looked like it was opening and snagged a table that gave us a bird’s eye view of the downtown, harbor and marina. It felt wonderful to have ole mister sun shining on my winter-starved skin again. After a leisurely lunch we strolled around town visiting our favorite shops and just enjoying being outdoors minus hats and coats.

We returned to our vessel about 3:00 and curled up for a snooze in the cockpit. I awoke 45 minutes later to a good stiff breeze and the sounds of lots of water craft buzzing around the river. Where was that wind this morning when we could have aired out our sails? 

Mitzie, our little Yorkie, and I enjoyed a leisurely stroll along the waterfront park. It seemed like everyone in New Bern was there, either walking, playing ball with their kids, fishing off the seawall,or just sitting and enjoying the 75 degree warmth. What a perfect day! We followed our walk with a chilled glass of chardonnay in the cockpit (that is, the humans, of course). I wanted to enjoy every last bit of the sunshine and blue skies.

This morning we left the dock in New Bern again around 7 a.m. as the sun was rising, but there was more chill in the air and more clouds in the sky. However, once again, the wind gods had over-slept and there was not a zepher to sail on. The morning proved to be mainly cloudy, with a tease of sunshine now and then. Returning to our home dock at 10:30 I felt happy to have had this nice mini-vacation–at last!
Helen

Yes, I have a bad case of sailing fever. We have not had the boat out of our dock since New Years Day. I tend to get antsy much more than Bryce. He is content to spend time each weekend on the boat fixing stuff, adding new equipment and generally just hanging around and breathing in her ambience. But unlike Bryce I like to get her out on the water and put her through her paces–get sails up, engine going, watch her track on the GPS and feel the breezes in my face.

So this weekend it actually looks like we are going to take the boat out of the dock. I am really not too picky about where we will go. I do enjoy driving her through the Pamlico Sound to Ocracoke Island, which takes about five and a half hours if we are not bucking a head-wind. The island is so serene in March; no tourists; little ferry traffic on the one main street through town; just the sound of shore birds squawking over-head; the purr of a few boat engines as the local fishermen come back with their fresh catches of the day. The beaches are deserted and there are plenty of nice shells to collect. Few shops are open, just the grocery/hardware store and a couple of restaurants that the locals frequent. You can walk in the road and not worry about being mowed down by bicycles, trucks, cars, etc. with beeping horns to add to the caccaphony. Yes, I do love visiting this island in the off-season.

But then there is New Bern. I have always enjoyed this lovely river town in every season of the year. This is an easy sail up-river from Oriental. It is very protected water so we never see the waves like the Pamlico Sound can get when the wind is really whipping. It is a nice, easy “reach” up river. We turn on the outside speakers and play Jimmy Buffet tunes as we glide along at 5 knots soaking in the warm sunshine. The town comes into view about an hour before we arrive at the high-rise bridge that spans the river. We usually tie up at the Sheraton/Skysail Marina which makes traveling by foot around town very feasible. The marina has floating docks, wifi, lovely bathroom facilities for boaters, and a nice pool when the weather is warm. But we like the marina because it is only a block away from the down-town area. Bryce and I have our routines here. After we dock the boat we like to inquire about what is happening that day/evening in town. One year we arrived while there was a clown convention in town–yes, I said CLOWN. There were clowns everywhere and that evening we were treated to a show under the big top, each clown competing to be recognized for the funniest! Another year we happened upon an antique car show- there were over a hundred antique cars in the Sheraton’s parking lot and the owners were anxious to tell you all about each one. After we find out what is happening (and in the spring there is a wonderful azelea festival- I just don’t know the exact dates) we walk to our favorite coffee shop and get a large brew. Then we walk around town and try to decide which restaurant we should visit for lunch; there are several nice ones that we have tried and sometimes it is hard to make a decision. After lunch we usually go to the best hardware store in the state–I’m not joking–I love this place because it has so much more than just nails, hammers, and saws. They have a wonderful gardening section with quite a selection of goodies for the home gardener (I try, but I have a brown thumb!). They also have lots of pots, spoons, funnels, etc. for the “would-be chef” (yes, that’s me!). I also like to peek into the toy store (after all, I am a pediatric SLP and “big kid” at heart). Then it is on to the out-doors store that has stuff for those of us who like to camp, hike, ride horses, etc. And we hate to miss the neat boating store, the wine and cheese shop, the bakery, etc. So we certainly can make an afternoon of poking around town.

Then of course there is Beaufort. This is another easy motor-sail across the river and then up Adam’s Creek through the ICW (which becomes a narrow “ditch” after about an hour. So the sails come down and we motor along. It’s fun to look at the lovely houses backing onto this waterway. About three hours after leaving our dock we enter a bay and follow the markers under the Morehead City Bridge and around Radio Island and into Taylor’s Creek. The little seaside town of Beaufort is on our left and a couple of barrier islands on our right. Now we have to make a decision. Do we want to anchor in the creek along with about fifty to a hundred other boats or should be take a town dock that cozies up to the main street and all the action. Ah, decisions, decisions! In the summer-time it can get quite noisy on the docks, especially since several of the waterfront restaurants have live music every evening and folks just stand around on the boardwalk and participate. So summertime we often choose to put down a “hook” in the creek and take our chances with our neighbors. This time of year I would probably vote for a dock, just for the convenience of coming and going without having to put the dinghy into service.

So yes, I am very excited about leaving the dock this weekend–any of these choices could make me very happy. I’ll let you know in my next blog about what we chose to do. In the meantime, just keep thinking “sunny skies and moderate breezes” (no ‘small craft advisories’ or ‘gale force winds’). Helen (03/16/2010)

We just returned today to our boat after a two week hiatus. Bryce and I get antsy when we are gone too long. Last weekend Bryce had to attend a professional conference in the Raleigh area and we also had to host a family birthday bash. So by Tuesday of this past week we were in boat withdrawal, longing to be back here and counting the hours before our departure.

Now you need to understand that Bryce and I consider this boat our real home, even though we have a nice enough house in Cary. Our boat is our mutual passion and we treat her lovingly and with much care. She is spoiled and given all sorts of expensive up-dates, repairs, and even a few real luxuries. We spend far more dollars on her maintenance than we would ever consider spending on our house. In fact, the house has always played second fiddle to this boat. We don’t flinch about the cost of hauling her out of the water annually and treating her bottom to a thousand dollars worth of paint or installing a several thousand dollar generator. But even mention painting a bedroom or installing granite kitchen counters at home, and the idea would not even be worthy of a second thought–after all, who could afford that?

Yes, our boat is our home sweet home! Nothing is too good for her. We are her servants and her guests. She has protected us, given us shelter, and taken us to lovely places most people living in a house only dream about. Helen 02/26/10

I’m sitting here in the pilothouse of our boat on a Saturday morning, mug of hot chocolate by my side, dog snuggled up in her bed, and good smells wafting up from the crockpot in the galley.  Last night it snowed about four inches and I can see it drifted on the deck and siderails.  All is still on the dock-just a few footprints of where Bryce got off the boat earlier to take our Yorkie for her morning potty-walk.  I am enjoying the peacefulness of this morning.  Usually we are frantically doing jobs on a Saturday morning–installing new safety equipment, cleaning decks, polishing stainless steel, etc., but today the weather conditions have made it impossible to do any outside work.  Yes, we have lots of things that need doing inside too, but I think this morning I’m going to take a break.  Bryce cleaned off the car and went to the West Marine (boater’s toy store) to collect all the things we ordered last weekend.  So I am sitting here alone and at peace.

Last night was a crazy wild ride to get here before the predicted snow storm arrived.  We knew for at least 24 hours that it was coming.  Now most folks would have just made the logical decision to stay home, since roads in NC can become pretty bad rather quickly when the white stuff arrives (we don’t have the road-clearing equipment that other states farther north use).  But not us!  No, we have this obsession with our boat.  We really get antsy when we have to spend many days away from her.  So we decided to go anyway, given about a three hour window of time before the forecasters said the storm would arrive.  About ten minutes outside of Oriental, the windshield picked up a few flakes and by the time we got here it was snowing big wet flakes.  This morning everything was covered with this soft, thick blanket of snow.  Yes, a perfect day to get cozy in the cabin, hunker down, and make a big pot of slowly simmering lamb shanks in an orange anise gravy.  Perhaps I’ll sit here a bit longer and watch the snow, then curl up with a good book and even take an afternoon nap.  Life is very good!

Helen– 02/13/2010

Friends- I can’t imagine not having friends.  When I think of our boat and the little village of Oriental, I immediately associate it with all the people we have met here and consider our friends.  Everyone in this small town is friendly.  You can’t walk down the street here without someone tooting their horn and waving.  You don’t need to know someone’s name to be friendly.  I have trouble remembering names–always have–but it has become worse in the past ten years –but in this town no one seems to care.  If you smile, wave, or chat with anyone on the steet or in a shop, then you are friendly. 

Bryce will often ask me, after I have had a conversation with someone at the Bean (the coffee shop in town), “Who was that?”  Well, I really don’t know their name, but I had a great time chatting, and I know that we will continue waving and chatting in the future.  Yes, they have become a friend.  Names are not important. 

 I remember people by what we usually talk about.  There is the fellow who often sits out on the front porch of the Bean and always has something nice to say about anyone’s pooch.  He used to have a little Yorkie like ours, but it died a while back.  Now he takes delight in everyone elses dog.

There is the clerk at the Dollar General that never fails to wish everyone a warm greeting as you enter the store and always has something nice to say when you check out.  Then there are two clerks at the West Marine in town who always want to hear about your latest boat project and what you are going to do with whatever you are purchasing.  And the people behind the counter at Inland Waterway Treasure Company who always engage in a lively discussion of the weather, what’s happening that week in town, and latest news in the area.  Yes, I don’t remember all the names (although I am getting a bit better over time), but they certainly qualify as friends.

And then there are the people who you see each week at the marina.  Certainly the dockmaster, but also many of the other slip holders who you can’t help but run into (literally) at the bathhouse, the clubhouse, and on the docks.  You chat about your boats, the weather, your boat problems (we all have them–something is always breaking or needing repairs), your future sailing plans, where you have been with your boat, and your dreams (which many of us share).  Yes, it’s wonderful to come down here to Oriental from Cary (where you are a nobody, except for the few people you see at work and your next-door neighbors) and feel the warmth and friendliness surround you.  I can’t imagine any other place being so chock full of friends!

Helen–02/06/2010

The hollow empty feeling in the middle of the chest, the lump in the throat and of course the occasional gasping sobs.  These are the signs of grief that I counsel other people about day-in and day-out.  And to confess the truth, I had probably become habituated and numbed over the years so that I don’t feel terrible pain when I work with others.  Perhaps it’s like the medical examiner who can perform an autopsy with one hand while eating his lunch with the other.  But  it’s interesting that I can still feel ripped apart and laid open when conditions are right.  That’s how I felt 4 days ago when I held my little dog while putting him down.

My strong feelings show how much I made this little animal my child.  It’s apparent to me that my emotions are rooted in some pretty powerful dynamics:  Helen and I struggled in vain to have our own biological child many years ago.  Our two children (both adopted by me) are now grown.  I think I have relished Helen’s nurturing of “our baby boy” and I think little Danny was a surrogate for some powerful needs we both still feel.  I know that rubbing Danny’s bare belly, feeling him snuggle into me at night and feeling his muzzle on my neck all somehow nurtured my own small self parts that resonated to his joy.  It’s interesting how we make our own virtual worlds of meaning.  This little animal was smaller than a Thanksgiving turkey yet I projected so much meaning into him by nuturing and protecting him.  His death devastated me.

It’s four days later and the pain has declined significantly.  I remind myself about what he was and what he wasn’t.  He was my cute little affectionate dog but I made him my child.  He really wasn’t a child but I made him into one in my mind.  

I find myself wanting even more physical contact with Helen as my need for touch and warmth redirects.  Helen and I share our memories, our sadness.  Someday we’ll get a new puppy but not now.  We don’t want to deny the loss and leave splinters of dissociated pain in our minds.  We’re both coming more into the present.  The empty hole in the chest and the lump in the throat have gone away.  Life continues.    Bryce (1/31/2010)