San Juans 6/17/12

Well the confidence in my last autowrite on the security of our anchor was put to the test last night. Sorry to say it failed. We had just gotten down to sleep when we were quickly awakened by a neighboring boat: “Osprey! Your anchor is slipping. You’re dragging!” Not the words you want to hear when you’ve just doused the day and are making your way to the netherworld of sleep.

Carmie and I leaped out of bed and scurried out to the cockpit like crabs de-rocked. “You’re slipping fast,” called out the man on the boat. You were up there; now you’re clear down here past us.” I called out a harried “Thanks!”  I got started the engine started while Carmie went forward with one of our wimpy lights to see if she could find any boats. I went to join her and instruct her to go the helm and be ready to pull ahead slow on my mark. I raised the anchor with the windless until I could spot it with my light. I gave Carmie the word, and she moved the boat ahead. I took the helm, positioned the boat into a new anchorage and dropped the anchor. Then I spent the next hour or so watching the movement of the boat. This was all methodical, but also a little panicky as everything aboard is quite new to me. 

I set the alarm on my iPod and got up once at 1:30am and again at 3am to check the anchor and position. It as a windy and bouncy night, but the new anchor set held well. 

We got up and reassessed. The boat that had warned us the night before had up and gone, which upset me a little as I had wanted to go thank them, and apologize for my incompetent anchoring. Anyway, they did leave us their government bouey,  so we we latched onto that and now feel confident enough to go for a walk on the island. It’s Father’s Day, so I deserve a walk on Sucia! We all do.

Gavin has taken to heading to the beach to collect rocks and investigate, which is mighty healthy for him.

Later...

We decided to walk over to Fossil Bay because the kids hadn’t seen that part of the island. Set up the dingy with the motor but as we landed on the beach I had to row and discovered that one of the oars on the dinghy was broken and useless. Anyway, we had a gorgeous, magical walk up to Henry Point and I was awash with memories of walking on Sucia with my Dad. He smoked his pipe as he walked and he and Mom chatted and commented on the sights. They were truly in love, those two, and it became most obvious in places that brought out their souls. Sucia is one of those places.

We got back to Shallow Bay and dingied to the boat in yet another gale coming. Carmie got dinner under way as I buttoned things up for the wind which now blows outside like a banchee. We had dinner and my beautiful kids gifted me with rocks they love and a card with beautiful words. Here we sit in a luxurious cabin, warm and cozy with favorite music games and the glow of our family in the belly of a boat tossing about in 25-30knt winds. 

I had the thought on several occasions today that I cannot possibly have this stupendous luck, this charm of grace, without something being given. What have I given to deserve this beautiful life? I walked the trail up to Henry Point filled with such awe that I am even able to perceive such beauty--the expressive madrona, the sculpted sandstone, the sense of near and far as small bays and neighboring islands alternately come into view--that I had to just stop and breathe it in, the wonder, the infinite shaping of this place.

And then I wonder about my own life. What will be will be, I say. But I look around and see this amazing place existing on it’s own plane, somehow, far away from the busy, worried  world, and I see how consumed I become. Consumed with little agendas, little stresses, little perplexing mazes that I construct for myself. I wonder what the use is. What use is it to pursue these little dragons, when I know better. When I know that times and places like this exist. 

I am now considering a job offer that I have been hoping for but I believe I will not take since it means having to buy another car to enable the morning commute. More on this later. 

Just said good night to Gavin, who went back to his aft cabin. Rachel and I are sitting up late to read and write and listen to the music and the wind in the rigging. So happy we we were able to get this boat for the week. We would have been pretty uncomfortable in something lighter. This gale is supposed to be slowing down sometime in the morning. Now is the time to sleep.