We have exactly one month to go before we untie the docklines and head north from Olympia. Sleep has gotten more difficult, the lists of things to do and buy and fix are checked multiple times daily. We grow more and more nervous about how our lives will look 30 short days from now. We are still excited but these last few weeks are beyond stressful. Wine helps.
It feels like I have a million things to do, buy, organize. I press “Two-Day 1 Click” multiple times each day on Amazon.com as I stock up on coffee filters, homeschool books, rechargeable batteries. It will be infinitely more difficult to get, well, stuff, when our car is sold three weeks from now. Mail order will pretty much cease at the end of this month as we won’t be staying in any one place more than a few days in our quest to travel around Vancouver Island by the end of August. Check, check, add another item, check….
In reality though we are ready to go. Only three things keep us at the dock other than Leah’s last day of preschool in mid-June:
- Moving our things from our larger storage unit to the cheaper, smaller out-of-town unit
- Hauling Wondertime in mid-June to paint her terribly overgrown bottom.
Make that two things. I feel better already.
Our departure date is hurtling towards us. At this point we’ll get what we can get done but whatever doesn’t will happen underway. We know this, we’ve done this crazy race to the end twice before. We know we’ll leave no matter what and it’s never mattered before what was still on the list when we threw the lines on board. Some nights through, we collapse, exhausted, at trying to chink away at our lists and take care of our two busy girls (the youngest of which is going through her 2 ½ year disequilibrium with full force. Which can be pretty cute. But still…).
That is when we grab a guidebook off the shelf and start reading, again, about the places we’ll be traveling to. In 30 days. We talk about route plans, anchorages we don’t want to miss, friends to stop and see along the way. We forget about the lists for an hour or two and remember why we are doing all this in the first place.
I totally understand your exhaustion and anxiety. Beer helps too. At this point, we are guessing that our road trip will put us in your neck of the woods about the third week of June. Maybe we can rendevouz at some point for lunch. We’ll play it by ear. Michael and Family, s/v Del Viento
We will be here! Send me an email when you get close; we’d love to give you a tour and meet you all!
I know we’ll meet you before we shove off. I think I might need you to come by and tell me it’s going to all work out! I told Tucker today that I needed a job so I could spend time at a tidy desk, with speedy Internet, working on all of the things that I can’t seem to manage during the day with two kids.
Amen, Victoria! I got so much more done when I had a full-time desk job. 🙂 We’ll be in the Bay early/mid-September and will be heading over your way first thing! I still have moments every day where I do not see how this is possibly going to happen but since Michael only has three more days left of work I think it will, somehow.
Have you adjusted the compass yet?
We’re leaving Swantown on July 1st. We still have most of the new boat canvas to finish manufacturing and two kayaks to finish and that’s just the big items. The list of small things has no end.
Hi Matthew- We are heading out on the 30th. Perhaps earlier if we can manage it (but that’s wishful thinking, I know). What boat are you on??
We live aboard Sea Lass, a 1930’s motor yacht. We’ll be making a stop at Bainbridge Island on the 4th, ’cause I have a show to do in Seattle that night. Then, it’s northward!
I’m a liveaboard on a Islander Freeport 36 at Fiddlehead. Which dock are you berthed at? I’d like to come by and say Hi. I walk my dog every morning at Swantown and usually meet up with Gunner and Ruby (George) and Joey (Sam). Brian
Hi Brian! We are the ketch with bright turquoise canvas one boat away from Sam. Do come and say hi!
Drop by Sea Lass as long as you’re over here. We’re at the very end of A Dock. We’re the old yellow boat. I’m always willing to share a cuppa with a new friend.