Late this afternoon, Patrick sat watching me spend several minutes swatting away a wasp that dove about the cockpit torturing me. Once I was aware of being watched, Patrick burst into laughter commenting, "I am so glad I married you. Best decision." His reaction was a bit baffling. But whatever his reasons I'm not complaining, as long as seeing me at my most ridiculous only reinforces his decision to share a very small living space with me.
We are feeling particularly nostalgic. This is the first time we have traversed the Chesapeake since the conclusion of our first sailing trip together two years ago. We were on our way to Baltimore from the west coast of Florida to get married and start a new life. Two years later, things have turned out rather unexpectedly.
Nothing about our current lives resembles our original plans, except for the part that includes each other. A fair amount of confusion and frustration have been present throughout this, but I feel glad that our futures were unpredictable. Fate gave me something better than what I had originally dreamed for myself. Seeking the new and unexpected resulted in unexpected things being seemingly drawn to me. Reflection on my past offers no elucidation of my present, and no indication of my future; to the effect that I now hold the things I want loosely. I cannot control the circumstance in which my dreams unfold, only yield to them without relinquishing my desires. I have become mutable without allowing my essence to be altered.
This is why sailing has been so significant a theme in Patrick's and my life. The lessons we have learned on the water are simple, self-evident and were discovered necessarily. It just so happens that there is a myriad of other applications for these revelations. Every time Patrick and I return to the "real world" from time spent on our boat, we feel wiser and abler.
We took a day off at Solomon's Island before mustering up the courage to strike out once more for Annapolis. Fifty nautical miles later, safely in Annapolis, we indulged in marinas, mooring balls and in the company of Kevin and Jan. It took a lot of work and all of our resolve to get here. Kevin and Jan made it feel exactly like a homecoming.
A gale swept through the evening of our arrival. We spent two days at the marina because the winds were too high to attempt to get out of our slip. The boat rocked so violently at the dock that we grew seasick every time we went below and were forced to take our meals ashore with Kevin and Jan (oh, the misfortune!). The northeasterly wind blew excess water into the Severn River and at high tide the docks and neighboring streets flooded about six inches. I have never seen a flood before, so the ankle deep saltwater bode apocalyptic for me. In reality it was a non-event. None of the locals seemed to notice or care.
Our last stop (which will complete the sentimental journey) is Baltimore. We leave tomorrow, weather permitting, to catch up with the only friends we made during our three-month stint in Inner-Harbor, Sean and Meredith.
More then from your marauding friends.