Tales of the landlocked sailors
At the writing my last post we were sitting on pins and needles for a phone call from the shipyard about the possible splash date of Friday the 23rd. I think we both knew deep inside this was not likely, but when the official call came, we were devastated. They would not put us in that week but and could promise us a splash date of the 28th, one week late. Remember, they are already three weeks later then they put us in last year. Taking an entire week out of our planned summer adventure the only thing we could do is go through our own stages of grief. It is what it is, this was not something we wanted to gripe on about in our moods. We can only go forward and hope next week will go well. By the end of Thursday we had decided we needed to spend a day focused on the positive things and disconnecting from media that always upsets us. We spent quality time with Kona, cooked a few amazing meals tried to decide how we wanted to spend this gap of time.
Over the past few days, I have pondered the creation of this website and what it represents. Like so many, I have posted our family’s adventures on socials and love sharing our joys and sometime harsh realities. In 2024 the creation of “1st mates log” was a dip into a good sea time habit; recording the day ins and day outs of what happens aboard your ship. I kept it short, mostly up beat and not overwhelm family and friends. But this feels different. I want this to be a place where not only there is sunsets and rum but the realities of this hobby/lifestyle while also offering a little bit of my voice in the story. I don’t want to be limited by short term attention spans and Tik Tok reels. I have found so many times in my life that keeping it real with my friends and family have brought me closer to them, and I feel as it does the same for them. It is a great joy in life, that connection. When we talk and listen about our perspectives without judgement we offer insight, joy and humor that uplifts us all and connects us. “The shared experiences of our lives is what connects us” I think is what they say…
As Captain and I start focusing more and more on our personal “Project 2030” we have noticed that we are “those people that talk about what they do all the time.” We are not shy to start conversations with people. Captains beard alone invites intrigue. So, I have found myself telling everyone that listens that we are spending this summer living aboard our boat and handing out shameless plugs left and right because people appear interested. And while I’m biased, Ciara is unique, and we are uniquely lucky. Some of the luck has to do with how we have re-arranged our priorities and mindsets. Changed our long-term plans and are financially are making it happen. I hope to share how we got there, it’s a long story, and I have so many stories!
And I want to hear your stories! If you are a fellow sailor here that has something to add, please do. If you are a complete landlubber, send me your questions! Give me some inspiration to entertain you with our tall sea stories!
And with all that said….There WILL be a daily log once we are aboard.
For now, I give you a recap of how the weekend when down in a little collection:
The tales of the landlocked sailors
The call of Altair
After Captain and I went through our stages of grief and found some quiet time on Friday we heeded the call of the North. Our friend Brett had made a very open invite all week for us to come join him on his boat, Altair. And when our mutual friend Gretchen randomly showed up at his boat we needed no more compelling , we knew we needed to go. We needed to do something. Sitting at home wasn’t going to treat us well.
Brett had moved his boat to the same new marina as us up in Cedar River, MI. We felt it was a good time to go see our new slip, check out the area - spoiler, there isn’t much there - and spend time with good friends. Altair is a dear boat to Captain and me. We sailed on her maiden voyage and delivery around Michigan in 2021 with her previous owners. She is a great boat, but wasn’t the right boat for those owners, so they sold it to Brett! Then they said “you should meet Captain and Deb” and the rest is history. It was so nice to be aboard her again. This time with less luggage (yes Brett, that WAS less luggage), a bigger berth and with new friends. We arose on Saturday and found the diner that was attached to the gas station and had amazing breakfast. Brett’s family was camping nearby with his kids so Gretchen, Captain, Kona and I enjoyed the new, to us, marina. Cedar River is a State Park in Michigan. The fairway is very wide and Richard is thinking he may even attempt to back her in for the first time ever. If there was ever a place to try, this will be it. Stay tuned! Our slip will be right where we park, eliminating the long hike to our slip we had in Sturgeon Bay. That will be very nice. Kona can pretty much be off leash and on land (with reason to who is around, of course) and she loves the marina with all the green space. The water is super low so the docks are very high as they are not floating like we are used to. The fuel dock sadly was “designed by a guy at a desk” according to the park ranger and will be cumbersome at best if we chose to use it. We may just take advantage of other ports of call we know are easier. We hiked to the beach but were immediately aware that the low grass bush whacking meant tick checks would be mandatory. We would find one right away on Richard’s leg. That nervous twitch you get when you know those things are around began for all of us. Brett then took us all out for a day sail! Wouldn’t you know it? We got out on the water after all! A calm day we lifted the sails and enjoyed a few hours of fresh air. Kona even enjoyed the cushions and we all enjoyed the company. Brett left us again for dinner so we checked out the ONE other thing in "town;” the Halfway Bar. Had a lovely dinner and thoroughly enjoyed their homemade Bloody Mary Mix. After dinner even MORE of Brett’s friends joined us aboard for little social time. Thankfully those friends were camping nearby. Captain and I remember how tight Altair became when sleeping 6! And with that we said good night to the camping friends and Brett and I looked up at the stars from his deck. Above her mast, there it was. The Summer Triangle! Altair is the name of one of the defining stars of the constellation and it was shining down at us calling us towards more summer nights to come.
Is it a mosquito, a tick, or the Meth? -Cedar River
We arose on day two of my tale to more of the same. Brett hanging out with his family while we enjoyed a long morning firepit while Gretchen slept in. And we went for breakfast! We missed the chance to go out for a day sail due to the late rising, but we didn’t mind. We spent the time driving around looking at the little real estate around as well as the state park that is right there where everyone is camping. JW Wells, for those who are interested. Tight camp ground for campers, but the “rustic cabins” and “rustic campgrounds” we very nice. All lake front, your own outhouse. Very nice and clean and not crowded.
We had decided to come home because we knew, hopefully, we would be turning around and headed to splash in as early as late Tuesday. There was now resorting and laundry to do and we didn’t want stress. And by we, I mean me. Two of the kiddos were also marching in the in Memorial Day parade and I felt really tugged to go see them. We would have missed it had things gone to plan and it was what it was, but now that things changed, I really wanted to be there. We waited for Brett’s day sail to get back so all the kids could get some quality Kona (and scooter!!) time before we said our good byes. They would drain not only the scooters batteries, but Kona’s as well.
It was by this time we had already found 8 ticks amongst Kona, Captain and myself. Kona had been in the lead with 4, myself with 3 and Captain 1. All wood ticks, none really attached yet. Just so much creeping paranoia that the motto above became what we think is the new motto for the town. We should make stickers, or T-shirts….
But the afternoon rolled on and we said our goodbyes. It was so good to see them and we are so grateful for our friends! They sure came through for us this weekend. Thank you, Brett!
They weren’t the only friends. After we got home, we immediately showered and I did find a attached but not for long tick. Dang it! The total after the drive home finds was 11. Not good. Will be upping my tick defense before we go up again.
Kidding. There really were MORE friends. After said shower freakout, we headed over to our friends Clint and Robyn’s to finally join them for their open fire pit. It had been way too long. Friends from my fitness days, Clint has grown as a friend, colleague when I was working (taught me everything I know about this web design thing actually!) to our family photographer. We have sailed together in Door County and rung in many of a New Year’s with them. It was nice to catch up. It was nice to laugh. It was nice to be with people who are finding the value in turning off the noise. The value in making the time to hang out in person. The value of the conversation and of human connection. They are amazing humans! We snuffed the fire at midnight. Always the pirates shutting down the show.
Zen and the subtle art of folding fitting sheets
And we find ourselves here on Memorial Day. Selfishly I had dreams of being at some far off remote anchorage, but instead I found a lot of peace in folding fitting sheets.
I awoke early, even after getting to bed late. I must have become that old lady that just doesn’t need a lot of sleep. I am just up…so I get going. It beats the days, long ago, where depression had me sleeping away a better part of this beautiful life. The anxiety however had kicked in by mid-morning. The familiar pit of last Thursday was growing. Knowing we have a phone call first thing tomorrow to see if they are going to make good on their Wednesday promise. We hope it just a knee jerk reaction from us to be this pre-upset. Captain is making plans to how to resolve this going forward as civil as possible should they not.
I cried a little today. I don’t do it often anymore either. I don’t mind my tears anymore. They aren’t an embarrassment. They aren’t a sign I’m weak. They are my just one of the many ways my feelings present themselves. When the tears come it’s time for me to not ignore the pits of my stomach. All I need to do is give them space to tell me what I need to do.
It IS okay I am upset.
This IS a sad and a hard thing that is unknown.
I am overwhelmed and I can’t please everyone.
And then I took a deep breathe.
With one simple ask to have my folks come here and not have to drive across town for our family dinner I was able to calm the straw that was breaking this camel’s back. I was able to focus on what was in front of me and find deep joy in the tasks of the day among big feelings. I am so proud for how far I have come. My mental health journey is a success that I still can’t wrap my head around.
I have been perfecting this silly chore of folding our fitted sheets for a while. It often finds me lost in deep thought. Grateful for the appreciation of perfecting this particular chore. It was lovely to fold the sheets today, thinking how nice it was to have clean sheets. In a few days, hopefully, our sheets will be speckled with the inevitability of sand. And there is a little joy there in that thought. We spend so much time anticipating for things we think we want, but in reality…it’s always right in front of us. Tonight, I go to bed grateful I can acknowledge this grace, frequently.
I also go to bed tonight with images from todays parade in my head. Seeing my kiddos march and be happy was one thing. Seeing the horse drawn carriage for the local Gold Star families was another. The tears from earlier kept flowing as it feels that this Memorial Day is much bigger then every before. I hope we can all come together and reflect on what these men and women died for and what it means in todays world. I will play taps from our balcony at 9. The first time for 2025. Thank you to all who gave all. Remembering my cousin who gave his all.
