At the helm

Standing at the helm of Kismet, our sailboat, I crank up Jack Johnson on the stereo, while HK goes below to prepare hors d’oeuvres and sundowners to enjoy after we drop the anchor later this afternoon. Beside the boat, flying fish and dancing dolphins break the surface of the tranquil, translucent turquoise waters, while eagles and ospreys soar overhead.

dolphins off the bow.

dolphin

Demonstrating my piloting prowess, I flawlessly maneuver the 36′ monohull alongside the diesel pumps, as impressed bystanders applaud my docking skills. As soon as we are topped-up, HK relieves me at the helm, as I make my way forward.

As we head back out to sea, I’m now reclining on the bow of the boat, wind in my hair, the sun’s rays warming my face as an occasional wave sends its cooling spray to mist my bikini-clad body. The gentle bobbing of the boat combined with dreams of future destinations lull me to sleep.

Life is good, and so am I.

Waking up in the morning, I lie in my berth, unwilling to begin the day just yet. Last night’s sleep was restless, but my dreams were sweet– of “the sailing life” I have, for years, envisioned.

No, in our first 2 months of living mostly aboard, life hasn’t been quite as ideal as my imagination allowed. Sour shorts and sweaty tee-shirts replace the teeny bikinis still in my duffel. (Cranking wenches, hoisting sails and dodging lines are just impractical while attempting to keep all my girl-parts covered.) But then, I am plenty at home in shorts and tee’s. That’s my go-to uniform at home.

Right at home in shorts and t-shirts

Dolphins? None yet, although I have mistaken the wings of rays for the fins of killer sharks. Eagles and ospreys? Yes, and yes. And currently, the osprey nests that lie precariously perched atop any post, pole or bouy are inhabited by the fledglings that have recently hatched. (If only I had a picture of the osprey nest that contained a small American flag that the bird had pilfered as building material!)  

Egret nest

The waters of the Chesapeake Bay are far from turquoise. More of an opaque, army green, much like the lakes I grew up swimming in back home in Kentucky and Tennessee. Nor is the water tranquil. Often the seas have two-plus foot waves coming at us in frequent succession, which is bad for the puppies, but great for my legs and core! (Think balancing act).

Bay Bridge

under the bridge

We pass alongside lighthouses and under bridges, giving me a completely different perspective and appreciation of things previously taken for granted.   And my docking skills? Well, lets just say we give the dock-hands a heads-up before I make my grand entrance, where they stand ready with extra fenders and ropes. But with practice comes perfection, and that is what I’m striving for. At least in my dreams. When it’s all said and done, Life is Good. And so am I.