Where does the time go, kids? Sitting on the back deck this evening, listening to the boats running out on the sound and the breeze moving through the palms, I reflected back on June 1, 2004, the day I landed here in the Keys from Denver to start work on the new hospital. Tonight that day seems like a lifetime away. A lot of water has passed under the keel since then, so to speak...several new kids in the family, some good old friends gone, lots of new friends to cherish, and so many memories of so many good times had - hanging out under the thatch roof at the tiki bar or under the bimini on the boat, sipping cold beer while the rain comes in or the sun goes down, scarfing fish tacos on the dock at Calypsos, sailing across the startlingly clear waters out beyond the reef, digging up pirate treasure on deserted islands in the bay, scaring up iguanas in the mangrove jungles, watching the new hospital rise up out of that old potato field, to sample just a few.......
December 2, 2005 I started this little on-line open letter to my friends and family as a way to share a narrative of my experiences and practice my writing skills. Thanks to those of you who have taken the time to read what I've put down here, and thanks especially to those of you who have given me your feedback on what you've thought was well done and what was crap. Living here in my little island paradise and having an interesting and challenging job has provided lots of subject matter for the blog, and quite honestly the bigdogblog has only captured a very small fraction of the experiences and adventures I've enjoyed in my time here. Looking back I know there were a lot of cool things going on here that I completely missed out on...running naked with the crazies on Duval Street during Fantasy Fest, witnessing the spectacle that is the Columbus Day Regatta, sailing with the conchs in the Christmas boat parade, for example.....
And now it's time to pack up and head out for a new town, a new job, new adventures.
I've been commuting to Orlando for a couple of months now, tending to the start of the new job there while tying up loose ends down here, but it has finally gotten to the point where I need to suck it up, make the move north, and get settled in to the new routine that awaits me there. No doubt I've been dragging my feet for a while on this, stalling and hoping that some miracle would happen and I'd find a way to be able to stay here forever while I finish getting Moon ready for the Trip. But employment opportunities here are scarce, particularly for folks with as limited a marketable skill set as I have (not many new hospitals get built in sleepy little island towns, dadgummit!).
Part of my stall maneuver includes getting some work done on Everlasting Moon while I have access to a yard I can trust to get her prepped for her eventual move north. Earlier this week a friend and I sailed her on a broad reach the twenty miles or so down the Hawk Channel south to Islamorada with 15-20 knots of wind out of the east and 2-3 foot swells moving in from the reef. It was a glorious day to be on the water - spitting rain early, some brief squalls mid-morning, and clearing to blue skies with a freshening breeze that encouraged us to put a reef in the main before noon. And for added enjoyment, I forgot to put a stopper knot on the jib sheet when we set sail, so when we got to the Snake Creek channel and cranked up the engine and turned back into the breeze to take the sails down to transit the channel under the drawbridge, the free end of the sheet escaped the lead block on the toe rail and tangled itself in the prop, jamming the works and killing the engine. After a few moments of what the hell we realized what had happened, dropped the anchor to keep from getting blown onto the shoals at the mouth of the channel, and studied on what to do next. It didn't take long to understand that we had two choices - call Sea Tow and get towed in to the marina or jump my skinny ass over the side with a mask and a knife and free the prop. Opting for undersea adventure instead of the indignity of having to call for help I hopped into the ocean. Luckily my friend had the presence of mind to suggest that we cut the jib sheet loose above the water line and spare me the excitement of flailing around in the water with a sharp knife in my hand while the barnacle encrusted 11,000 pound boat pitched around in the swell above my head. That was smart thinking, and it still left me with the thrill of swimming under the boat as it rose and fell on the waves while I unwrapped the line from the prop shaft. It took a while to get it done, but after figuring out how to brace myself on the bottom of the boat so that I was going up and down with it the actual freeing of the line wasn't that hard.
Once I got back on the boat I realized that this is exactly why I love being on the water in general and sailing in particular.....every now and then you're going to be confronted with one of these little puzzles that can only be solved with the right combination of skill, knowledge, luck, and physical exertion.
The rest of the sail was memorable but uneventful. The engine started back first try, we cleared the bridge, motored through the channel and into the bay where we picked the same breeze we had on the ocean side. With no swell to fight on the bay side Moon ran with a bone in her teeth the last few miles to the marina. We even got tied up to the dock there with no real excitement.
Today we got the mast and lifelines off, and prep work started for the new standing rigging and refit of the masthead lights and antenna. She comes out of the water Monday for bottom paint and a new stuffing box, cutlass bearing, and repair of whatever else we find under there that needs fixing.
If all goes as planned, she'll go back in the water a week from Monday, and I can sail her back up to her slip the next day before heading to Elkin for the annual family Thanksgiving gala......
I remember riding my bike down the Cherry Creek trail in Denver to the park at the confluence of Cherry Creek and the Platte River in May of 2004, and watching the colliding streams while I studied over my impending departure from the life I had started building there....it had been hard to decide to pack up and leave there just as I was developing a new circle of friends and really getting to know the miles of mountain bike trails and the brew pubs, bookstores, neighborhood hangouts and just plain good and friendly people that make Denver such an inviting place to live. But I did make that decision, opting for the uncertainty of a new place with a solid job and a chance to build something really meaningful over staying put in an awesome place but not knowing what I would do for a living. Things turned out well enough, I think, going the route that I did.
And here I am now at another watershed moment. This time around, though, I'm leaving with more details and a more definitive timeline added to the plan I left Denver with.....work hard, save money, buy a boat, and take off to chase the horizon as soon as possible. It hurts to know that I'm leaving a place that has really come to feel like home, though....hurts more than I can express. But.....
The job in Orlando is going to be a great one. A lot of work, of course, and I'll go ahead an apologize now for all of the bitchin' and moanin' about the job that you're likely to read here over the next three years or so. It's OK to tell me to be quiet about all of that when I get out of line. And I know that there are good people that I'll meet there, and good adventures to be had exploring and getting to know the Orlando area again
So, that's it for now. I hope that you're doing well, that all of the decisions you're faced with are easy or you enjoy puzzling out the answers to the hard ones.....Good night, friends. Be well.
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