My cutie, a throwback from our summer cruise. I can’t count the ways I’m going to miss these days.
A few weekends ago, Aaron and I had a dream of a ride as we delivered the boat to the yard on a sunny 65-degree fall day. And this past weekend, we put on Clarity‘s winter cover, hauling the metal frame up the ladder piece by piece and lacing the canvas under the hull like a giant shoe.
I couldn’t help but think how much it resembled a tent. And maybe it was the unusually warm fall weather, but how fun would it be to camp on the bow! Claire would love it, and knowing Aaron, we’d probably seriously consider it, if the boat weren’t resting in its cradle about 15 feet off the ground. Yard work is not for the faint of height.
I remember last year, in mid-October, the harbors had already turned off the water hookup at the slips, as the lines were freezing in 30-degree night temps. Getting the boat out by the 31st, when the harbors officially close, wasn’t even a question then. But the 70-degree November this year has been an unbelievable blessing, and a bit of a tease. If only we could have sailed her just a few more times.
We have Clarity listed on the popular sailing websites, but even just a few weeks into the “winter” boating season, we’re already getting anxious.
Yes, a bigger boat would be wonderful, and yes, there are a lot of things that Clarity would need for us to comfortably start the next chapter. But what if she doesn’t sell this winter or spring? What if we lose momentum? If we can make changes now, on Clarity, and leave in the spring (and with a more flush cruising kitty to start), why wouldn’t we?
It’s amazing to me how time can expand and compress in light of life-altering crossroads.
No decisions have been made, though, and in the meantime, Aaron’s winterized all of the systems on board. There are just a few more things to be done before Clarity is ready for hibernation.
As for us, the family is definitely not ready for our impending hibernation. The other day, Claire woke up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and asked me, “Mommy, are we going to the boat today?” I wish, sweetheart. I wish.