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This year was different than the past few years. This year, on the water at least, was tranquil. Carrie Rose’s engine purred. No matter what we plugged in her batteries remained fully charged. I continue to marvel at the new radar and chart plotter. They performed flawlessly during the few foggy days we encountered.
And that brings me to the weather. We were on the water by mid-June; still early for Downeast Maine. The first few weeks were in the low to middle forties - cold. Most days it rained and fog rolled in off the Atlantic. But then as June morphed into July, the sun came out and the temperature moderated. It remained so until we departed on Labor Day.
Living on a boat requires attention to detail. Of course, the weather is a major factor especially when combined with eleven foot tides and the currents they generate. There is the location of the boat: are we swinging on a mooring or tied to a floating dock or anchored to the bottom of a protected (or not) cove; it makes a difference.
The fundamentals of life: food, water, heat and dealing with waste increase the complexity. We have whatever food we bring. Some needs to be refrigerated, some not. We have 100 gallons of water that we nurture. For heat, the tiny propane fireplace keeps the salon and the pilothouse warm while ignoring the head and the forward bedroom. And we have a 40 gallon black water tank that can be pumped over board (three miles off the coast) or pumped into a marina’s waste system.
The boat itself, despite constant maintenance, is a black hole. We do our best and then leave the rest to providence. In twenty years, Carrie Rose has thrown us a few curves. The Cummins diesel, the heart of the boat, has hiccupped twice. Once the injectors clogged while passing through a narrow rock strewn channel and a decade later, peculiarly, a malfunctioning thermostat left us stranded in a tidal race between a series of jagged rocks and the offshore Petit Manan Lighthouse. Both times we resisted panic and with the help of friends went on to cruise another day.
My 2010 Honda Accord Coupe has a small screen that can display photos. When the car was new, I struggled to add mine. I managed to get two loaded. One is a picture of Charlotte and I standing next to Carrie Rose while she swings in a crane’s straps about to be lowered thirty feet into the South Branch of the Chicago River. The other shows us tied to an idyllic lock in Canada’s Rideau canal. I toggle between the two and derive satisfaction from the reverie they elicit. It makes the “blood, toil, tears and sweat” of boat ownership worth it.
We each have passions - many times unconceivable to others - that fulfill our lives. The new year, for me at least, is a time to contemplate the past and reevaluate the future. We wish and hope the best in whatever drives your passion. Cheers!
