Quiet Fog and Red Bull

Quiet Fog and Red Bull

Breakfast underway

Ok, I admit to an addiction to sugarless Red Bull as a substitute to coffee; not that I have given up coffee. It is far easier to snap open a can of that stuff than start the generator and make coffee. The events of the past few days are a blur and perhaps that is because of the increased consumption of RB (and perhaps rotten grapes). Nevertheless, we made it home yesterday and Bear is going through a pile of mail to find the good stuff including the latest issue of Seafaring’s Latitudes and Attitudes magazine, part inspiration for our cruise.

Stumbling down this morning to the kitchen (no galley at home), I noticed something most demanding on one’s senses. It was the absence of sounds to which we have grown accustomed on Why Knot. Come to think of it, there were no sounds at all, or I have gone deaf?  We have several large windows that revealed fog so thick I was reminded of the GIWW . In the gray light of dawn, I could almost hear the anchor rode working back and forth in the bow anchor roller. Yet the only sound in our house or from outside was being produced by me. On the water, good crew will listen to the boat. As mentioned earlier, the boat talks. Sometimes it speaks ever so quietly. At times, such as encountering large, looming steel things, the voice is unbelievable, almost screaming. Wait, it was screaming but not as loudly as the crew.

Clearing Under a Raised Bridge

This morning, in the fog (physical and mental) something Bear said yesterday came to mind. Just as we headed away from New Orleans, Bear mumbled music to my ears. She said “I am ready to get back aboard and underway”. For those saw the pictures of Bear when the temperature was too cold to shiver, it is not what you think. Some saw the grimace on Bear’s face and interpreted it as misery. Well, it was but not in any way reflecting a desire to jump ship. It was the look of my mate foregoing the comfort of the cabin to be topside with me. We know that beautiful sunsets and sunrises don’t happen every day; that rain and cold are part of our great adventure and that paying such dues entitles the crew whilst anchored in “that perfect spot” to fully sit back on an afternoon and do nothing but stare at the universe.

The very existence called cruising is a daily ritual. We are working on ours. Since leaving Port Aransas, we have had at least one challenge daily. We enjoy being underway and know that the “event” will most likely happen then. Even docked or anchored, things happen. So, it is not like sitting on the back porch. A boat underway requires maintenance, both planned and unexpected. For instance, engine oil is good for about 100 hours. That means that one must deal with that even in paradise. We both think that cruising is more work and more exercise that being at home, both good things. We have both lost weight. I won’t go there for the Bear but I am down over 21 pounds. Not bad eh?

It will be good to be far east of Harvey Lock and when we do climb aboard again, hopefully sooner than later, we will be wiser (maybe). Boats get dinged but hardly do they ever get dinged in the slip. What would Capt. Jack Aubrey (Master and Commander) do? I ask myself that often while aboard. He did not have a Dell technician aboard, ever.

Sun Bear Intracoastal City

Ok, now that we must plan for a few weeks at home, we have to provision the house again. Did not even have breakfast foods in the pantry this morning, let alone Red Bull. What a start. The countdown begins in earnest today. Day One

One Really Pretty Tow (if there is such a thing)