2ish weeks to go

People keep asking us, "when are you leaving?" It's
been somewhat comforting to be able to respond that we
don't know for sure or that it's about 6 months or
that we have a flexible date, or that we'll leave when
we're as ready as we need to be. These responses
relieved pressure and made departure less startling.
Well, today we set a date. I'm already emotionally
starting to dig my heels in. I want ot add a day or
argue that we'll need to do this so we'll have to
wait. The ironic thing is that we are really ready to
be done preparing to leave. So I thought it would be
a relief to know we really are leaving, Now I've
vascillated from the hurry up and get out of here
feeling to the wait, I'm going to be sad feelings. I
accept this is part of change and in order to see new
places we have to walk away from the known.

So, October 16 it is. 18 days to get the list items
crossed off.

Lists

One week after our Bon Voyage party. Nomad was returned to the waters of Santa Cruz Harbor after 10 days 10 feet up in the air. It was a hectic marathon/sprint to get all the important things done and then return her to the water as quickly as possible. It seems that the longer a boat is hauled out, the larger the bill. We managed with help from Brian's Dad and much from Deyess and much from the yard crew to have the bottom sanded and repainted, take all of the through-hulls out, clean them, and reinstall them, remove the propeller shaft, replace the cutlass bearing, replace the propeller shaft, replace the motor mounts, and a few other messy things. The best parts about it all was after being placed back into the water, the engine was quieter, and the boat didn't sink. 3 days later, it still hasn't.

I've been trying to think of interesting things to write because everything else I seem to write or think about is in list form. Lists of things to do, things to buy, people I want to connect with before we leave, even lists of questions to ask. Despite the lists, I feel disorganized and unstructured. I feel the most structured, in control when I cross off items on the lists. Of course, it often means that I've finished one thing only to have remembered or discovered 2 more things that need to be added. These perpetual lists require patience. So does the nonexistent departure date. I noticed on Lisa's wedding website that she and Frances have a count down to their new life. 26 as of 9/17/07. We don't have one of those countdowns. As best we figure it will be early/mid October, before the weather turns wintery and after we've completed all of the most important things on those lists.

Our party on the 9th was one more reminder that we are not alone in this world and we are supported and surrounded by the surprising kindnesses of friends and family. I even started a list of people to thank. It's never ending also. I don't even want to begin listing the people because I'm bound to forget someone who has helped us on our jouney. I can only hope that we can pass the kindnesses along as we travel.

A ship is safe in harbor...

There's a quote I heard a long time ago.
"A ship is safe in a harbor, but that's not what ships are made for."
It's been running through my head lately. It reminds me of my brother's advice to me when I was deciding between two colleges at the end of my high school senior year. I was deciding between UC Davis and the college where my parents both taught, 5 minutes from where I grew up. I had spent my childhood running around their campus, feeling safe and 100% at home. I knew every professor, almost every secretary and many of the students. I knew the routines and all of the expectations I would encounter. I was tempted to go there because I was nervous about the unknown. My brother asked me, "Yeah, but where are you going to grow? Where are you going to be challenged?" Right then, I knew I needed to go to the unknown so I could keep being challenged. I'm glad I did!

This quote and this story contain the same theme as our current choice in life. We could stay in Santa Cruz, continuing the teaching jobs which are comfortable and very satisfying. There would be nothing wrong with that. But maybe that's not what these two ships are made for. We believe we're ready to apply some of the convictions that have been growing in us for the last couple of years. We want to live lightly on the earth, using few resources. (Nomad runs on free wind and biodiesel, whenever they are available). We want to trust God (not as necessary when we have a routine with few challenges). We want to work for justice (absolutely possible to do in Santa Cruz. But there are organizations all over the world that we've sent money to over the years. We're ready to get our hands dirty and join them when possible.)

Aren't you excited?

So, the most common thing we hear when people hear about our trip is, "that's so exciting!" and second is, "that's so romantic." Not to dash anyone's image of sailing away into the sunset but . .. Let me tell you what we've been working on. I've been applying for new health insurance, sorting through papers, and figuring out how we're going to manage finances from a distance, starting to collect things we'll need/want or things we can give away to local schools as we get to know people in villages along the way, and getting in visits to friends and family. People have become more precious to me than ever as I imagine not being able to call up or drop in on someone when I want. Brian has been building cabinets, reinforcing other cabinets, building supports so that our table area can turn in to a very comfy bed for 2. Anybody want to visit?

Still to be done: Get the SSB installed, make a sun awning, buy more supplies, get a liferaft, have a goodbye party (Sept 9, 1:00 til ? at 321 26th AVE), give the sails a once over, give the engine a once over, have someone else give the electrical system a once over, buy replacement parts for everything we couldn't live without, haul the boat out of the water and repaint the bottom and replace the through hulls, stock food and other supplies, and the list goes on. It's strange to me that for some people this is completely foreign, for me it is familiar because I've been thinking about it for over a year, and yet to cruisers many years into this life these steps would be elementary.

So, no, I'm not excited. But I'm looking forward to new places, new people, a view of the world outside of oh-so-comfortable california, being challenged by poverty, weather, and newness. Already I'm dreaming of teaching kids how to read Spanish, or floss their teeth. I can't wait to have the children teach me new words or their best way to eat a mango.

Yellowstone

Brian and I just got back from our 2 week land voyage. I insisted on a return to Yellowstone National Park, a blur that caught my fancy the year my parents drove our family around the United States in an Isuzu Trooper II with two car top carriers strapped on top. Then, we were in the park less than 24 hours, as best I remember. But the Morning Glory Pool sucked my breath away even at the aloof age of 13. This time the bubbling power spilling up through the white encrusted soil in various colors and muds and temperatures was jump up and down delightful. Bison eyeballing me without an ounce of friendliness and baby great horned owls squeaking from limb to limb made me wonder why people sit at home watching TV when there's so much REAL stuff out here to be felt and known in 3-D. Brian and I felt like we were on a second honeymoon getting to backpack 5 nights in a row.

New

Well, here's my first ever blog post. I apologize right now to Carmen for telling her almost 2 years ago that I didn't know WHY someone would want to have a blog. Communication. Connection. I get it.

In a year of new things, this blogspot is one small, satisfying, somewhat manageable new---unlike hopping on a 42 foot sailboat and leaving all the olds in my life except my husband, and the saxophone I'm going to squirrel away somewhere. We'll be departing in September sometime towards the end of the month. It's not like having a plane ticket, however. We'll leave when we are as ready as we feel like we can get. Nomad is already strong and seaworthy, has lots of water and fuel storage. Anything else we get done will just be bonus.

"itinerant good"
I enjoy the name of our boat but the frequent use of it has already stolen some of the meaning I associate with the word, "Nomad". So, I didn't want to put that in the title. Itinerant is the suggestion the Thesauras gave. It's a good concept to summarize the next phase of our lives. "good" comes from a quote my mother-in-law sent a couple of weeks ago. Brian and I have been looking for a blessing or prayer that was a guiding purpose for Nomad and our lives aboard her. We've tried on and off for a year to write or find one. All the we tried seemed awkward or not quite right- too complicated or not enough. When I read the quote Sharon sent, I said out loud, "there's our blessing." I'd heard it before so it wasn't new but it was exactly the right timing and the right sentiment.

Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.
~ John Wesley

As far as we can figure, that is our purpose on our voyage. Without the help of God, it will be a paltry amount of good. With the Spirit, we hope to be guided and used as we are to be a part of more meaningful works than we could ever accomplish on our own.