negotiated a play date with a friend in lieu of Jack’s Pokemon league. I had the evening to myself. What I really think she negotiated was a little time with an adult, for which I can’t blame her. To go up to the boat or not to…. what a stupid question! Besides, I needed to check on critical supplies. This evening, the critical supply on my mind was the Black Box of red wine kept in the galley. In case you are wondering, I find boxed wine works better than bottles on the boat – more efficient storage, longer shelf life when opened, etc.
Seventeen minutes later, I was pulling into the Everett Marina parking lot. A few minutes later, I was satisfied that my mission was accomplished and diminished some of that critical supply in a coffee mug. I put on a little B.B. King and proceeded to have an existential experience.
The marina was a rare and delightful sanctuary of tranquility. The water was mirror-like, disturbed only by my own movement. Steam from the paper mill rose directly toward the heavens. The sailboats were silent, taking a break from the usual wind chime of halyards bumping against masts. Birds were lazily gliding on laminar air. I took it in for – well, I don’t know how long.
In my new relaxed state, I donned my headlamp and proceeded to tinker on Sojourn. I fixed her knot meter, checked the juice in her batteries, made plans for a new GPS mount and, in general, just puttered. When I finished my wine and my puttering, I went back up on deck and took the, now, night time scenery in again and, then, headed home.
As I left the marina, I felt profoundly rejuvenated - like I had just topped off the batteries that maintain my sense of well-being.
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