Monday, June 12, 2017
Farewell
At nineteen, I left Chicago on a self financed, non college related odyssey. It would be a year before I returned. Only one aspect of that trip is relevant to this discussion and that is homesickness. It is not that I am homesick now, quite the contrary, but my previous experience acts as a beacon for how homesickness seeps into a soul.
As I type this Charlotte and I are anchored in 10 feet of water in a cove around the Rhodes River’s green day marker #7. Of course, there is ever present din of grass cutting. There have been a few speedboats pulling a sledder around until the turning radius becomes unsustainable and the occupants fly off in a straight line like a rocket breaking free from the earth atmosphere. I vaguely remember solving those problems in physics but as my yearlong odyssey is not relevant, neither is the calculus involved in leaving the earth’s atmosphere.
Carrie Rose has been cruising for six short days and in those few days has already said several farewells. The first was to our hosts at Island View Marina. The owner started out as the strong silent type and then as our residency lengthened became quite chatty and endearing. His wife, redeemer of all animals, warmly welcomed us. Through them, we experienced the rescue of multiple ill used Pomeranians, a sweet pit bull, and a cartoonish beagle.
We knew they were on campus when the door to the shop/office sported a red sign saying, “Don’t let the dogs out”. The owner’s dog, Precious, grew over the winter from what was a tiny precious puppy to outsize her mother, the other rescued Pom. Adela Mae, the pit bull was obviously overwhelmed with the menagerie. Especially with the addition of the special needs beagle.
At this tiny marina Carrie Rose had a bit of a refit: new air conditioner, a bimini, house batteries, bottom paint, zincs, flushed heat exchanger, electrical wiring, etc. It was sad to say good bye, so we hugged and took off and tried not to look back.
To decompress we picked a small anchorage on Tilghman Island to hang out overnight before crossing the bay to Herrington Harbor South for the Mid Atlantic Nordic Tug Association’s rendezvous. Herrington Harbor is everything that Island View was not. Large, landscaped with state of the art spotless bathrooms and a large staff, it even had a nature walk. After an initial confusion about where to tie off, and an inadvertent tour of the marina we backtracked and tied up along the jetty attached to the entrance channels eastern riprap wall.
Carrie Rose was sandwiched between two 42’ tugs and as usual looked tiny. What we lacked in size we make up for in accouterments on deck. This alas is the sign of a cruising boat. Bikes, fenders, spare lines, dingy, canoe, solar panels all go to give a boat that well travelled look. With our lines secured and power connected we went in search of the ‘vous welcoming committee and welcoming they were. The next four days were spent with folks that knew each other well and incorporated us into every event. We seldom sat alone for long.
This gathering differed from our Great Lake events. I never heard a soul speak of batteries, fuel filtration, diesel serial numbers, or that ever fascinating topic of what is the best anchor. Tech talk was replaced with a chef’s best one pot meals and the nightly entertainment from two of the member’s keyboard skills. After the barbecue a local band, Bone and String, played salty sea shanties and Irish favorites that the whole crew heartily sang along with while feeding the band with hotdogs and beer.
The bay was windy, cold and choppy on the day that the ‘vous ended so we decided to stay put as did several others. This was a great crowd to have a 5:30 drink with that morphed into the evening, negating the need to make dinner. Nuts, cheese, and crackers had to suffice. Again, it was time to say good bye to another set of fine hosts with hugs and pledges to stay in touch.
On my grand journey in 1973/4, the constant goodbyes eventually lead me home. Now, only 6 days into this years summer cruise the two fond farewells has me reminiscing on the nature of home, family, and friends.
Remember that journey in 73/74 well. Please don't come back with a long beard and a sheepskin coat. <3
ReplyDeleteLove following your journey. Keep it up. Stay safe. No bickering. And enjoy lots of one-pot meals.
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