Day Nine: Downtime

I largely checked out on this day. Bill and Linda have been marvelous companions, but I am craving a little solitude and time with my book, so I stay on the boat while they do a little snorkeling and atoll exploring. The thought of exploring the land with Bill and his machete is intriguing, but I really do need a day to just be alone. That being said, there is not much to journal about. Instead, I will share a few things about Creola.

As I have mentioned before, she's 49 feet long. I'm not sure of the width. Of the boats I've seen over the last week, she is the move beautiful one of her size. Her extensive wood work, however, makes her high maintenance. The Phoenix, for example, is largely plastics and foam construction, which makes her a very fast ship and somewhat easier to maintain than the Creola, but not as ... well... lush.

The Creola has a desalination unit on board, so she can make her own fresh water. I've met boats who are not so equipped and have to carry all their fresh water with them as supplies. She also has a generator on board, to keep the batteries well charged, which has allowed me to keep up this journal.

She has a full galley, and I've seen apartments in San Francisco with only slightly larger kitchens than this. Granted, this isn't saying much. As pretty as it is below, everyone spends most of their time on deck for the simple reason of the breeze.

I am not, as a rule, a big "outdoors" person. I burn very easily (and yet have remarkably avoided that fate this trip), have allergies, and generally have an ongoing experience of Mother Nature being a rather abusive parent. (the insect bites on my feet and ankles, that look like something out of a medical journal attest to this). Thus, I have never been one to love the heat. I might have been very miserable here if it were not for the constant breeze. On nights when I have had to close my hatch for rain, I have been deeply grateful for the twin fans that are mounted over my bunk, as I would have smothered without them.

Back to the Creola, she has top notch navigational equipment which allows for limited auto-pilot ability and weather tracking. It's a very impressive setup although it by no means results in a care-free travel experience. Bill and Linda have found that the cruising live is far harder than they would have expected. Their mood was surely impacted by the 22 day open sea voyage they had just completed when I arrived. They have seemed in much better spirits over the last few days.

Indeed, while I have fretted from time to time over my inability to repay their astonishing generosity on this trip (for indeed, most of my attempts to contribute in one way or another are joyfully shooed off), I have begun to realize that my biggest contribution for them as been a change of pace. I am someone to hear all the stories of their adventures, to talk about old memories with, to catch up on news of friends and colleagues, and to be an audience.

Cruisers are like actors in that they are constantly meeting people in different ports, finding folks that they really like, but then do not see again for months or years. They have a constantly changing lifestyle that is nevertheless quite consistent in its challenges.

I do not know that I could do what they are doing. I find that the taste of salt water is becoming a disincentive, and I miss my friends, my home, my chosen solitude, and even my job. A week is about perfect for a vacation for me, and I am ready to be home.

I have experienced amazing sights here, met delightful people, consumed incredible meals, had intriguing conversations, and had a fantastic time. My heart is not in the sea, however. It's back in Oakland on Alice street, and I shall return there in two days.