The past few weeks have been filled with time at the boat, but not much “boat time,” as we’ve been preparing Clarity for selling. Hauling off extra gear we put on board for the long cruise, then hauling off more gear to take pictures, and then packing the rest for either a winter on the hard or (hopefully) a new adventure.
Oh, and did I mention the cleaning? I’ve found Cheerios, beads and Legos in nooks and crannies that I didn’t even know were there.
Throughout this process, I’ve been thinking back, not just on our cruise this summer, but on last year, and the year before. Our first summer aboard, Claire had just learned to walk. Aaron and I had never truly spent a month of uninterrupted time together. I’d never driven a boat, let alone captained one in gusty winds and three-foot waves while Aaron troubleshot our failing engine down below.
In so many ways, we became a family on this boat.
And as we put those final details in the online listing, and sorted through the pictures one more time to narrow the batch down to just those that truly show how special Clarity is, I couldn’t help but feel the pangs that have held us back when we’ve previously tried to move forward:
Do we really want to sell her? Is there anyone who will love this boat as much as we have?
But even as I tear up now, I know that we’re ready for the next chapter, wherever it takes us. And if I’m this attached to this boat, and this life, and these memories, I can’t even imagine how we will grow in the next one.
So, the listing is up. Clarity is officially for sale. As the season comes to a close, we are headed to the boat for one more family weekend before we deliver her to the yard for winter storage.
It could be the last time we ever sail her. I hope that it isn’t, and that it is.