There have been so many times in life when I wonder what I did to deserve the fortune I’ve found. If Buddhists have it right and we are reincarnated, then a former version of myself did a lot of things right – thanks, old me. I’ve had plenty of challenges and hurdles, but through all of that I’ve had wonderful people, my health, plenty of food, love, luck, travel… you get it. Most days I feel like I’ve got it made in the shade – despite any bitching and moaning I may have done. (I mean, there’s always room for improvement, right?) Seriously – how did I get to this point in my life where I have a boat and can stop working for large chunks of time to chase after wild hair dreams of floating in clear blue tropical water – and sometimes even achieving it? It honestly doesn’t make sense when I stop to think about it all.

But then, when I consider this yard period, I wonder what the other previous incarnations of me did. Because it really feels like I’m working to atone for serious and egregious transgressions – thanks a lot, other old me. The time in Penasco was a non-stop barrage of issues. It would have been nice to feel like we were taking two steps forward and one step back. So many days it felt like we were sprinting in reverse. Any of you who know me personally know that I am severely lacking in the Patience Department. So, when I say that I am the one trying to keep Craig cool, calm, collected, and focused, you should know that we are in the Upside Down over here aboard Small World. Craig has threatened to sell the boat too many times to count, and for some reason, I’m the one bullying him into continuing the back breaking work. I never saw this coming, and I too am confused, dear reader.

When I consider the last 5 years of anticipation, planning, work, and stress from SO MANY avenues, I can see that I really need this time afloat. Craig on the other hand, has been afloat for work each year. While I’ve been holed up in an office, or a home office, he’s been sailing with orcas in Elliott Bay. When he thinks about selling the boat and going home, he still gets to sail. I would be going back to sitting in front of a computer. That’s a no for me. At least for now. (Unless one of you has a remote contract gig that I could do remotely… slide into my DMs. Boat projects are expensive.)

So yes. I’ve been putting my foot down and forcing Craig to continue working down the obscenely long project list. It’s for his own good, honestly. And mine. I don’t want to hear it in a few years when he’s wishing we had just persevered a little longer. After all this time away, he just doesn’t remember how much he loves being out there. (It’s so much easier for me to be this stubborn when he does most of the labor.) And after 5 years, the memories of being out there, actually cruising, have faded in comparison to the constant trauma of finding more issues with the various systems aboard. We’ve pulled the fraying hemline and have started to unravel the entire boat. Sometimes it feels like the boat is trying to unravel herself, and we just keep averting our eyes pretending not to notice that something else needs our attention. If we just don’t look for the issues, then we won’t have to address anything. At least until we try to fire that particular system up.

Some boating friends have asked to see the list of everything we’ve worked on in the yard… and that particular list will take a long time to compile if we are ever willing to revisit that era. But this short list that follows is from a 24-48 hour period. Some felt catastrophic in the moment, others were just really annoying because we always feel tight on time.  

• The outboard engine (which we previously tested) has now started to stall. The carburetor is flooding.
• The outboard has stopped spitting out water. The impeller has absolutely disintegrated. There are no local sources for this part.
• The air pump we have for inflating our fenders isn’t working.
• The fridge temperature is climbing. The water-cooled fridge has sucked up some plastic trash from the harbor and the compressor turns itself off when it gets overheated. Getting the trash out means disassembling lots of plumbing and having to re-prime the pump. It happens two more times.
• It’s REALLY hot and humid and we constantly feel soupy. Sancocha, if you will. You can imagine that motivation for physical labor remains low when you can count the sweat beads rolling off your body when you’re sitting still. Adding the need for a heat gun in the project only makes it worse.
• The fridge high pressure cut out switch starts to turn off the system right after buying a bunch of groceries.
• The echo charger that charges the start battery needs to be replaced. It’s out of stock at the marine store so we order from Amazon, but it gets sent via the wrong carrier even after coordinating with the seller to guarantee otherwise. It gets stuck in transit and never makes it to us.
• The relatively new start battery may need to be replaced because of the bad echo charger.
• Have I mentioned the heat?
• As I write this, he’s bitching about something else related to electricity and I don’t understand but it seems important.

Keeping spirits up has been nearly as challenging as the work itself. Are we doing the right thing? Did we do that project right? Have we already lost 100% of our sanity? Why does Craig keep injuring himself? When will the sweating stop? I just want answers!

I’m not likely to get those answers, but I do still have so many reminders that I continue to be lucky. Weezy has been the best Chief Morale Officer I’ve ever seen. She’s so in tune with us and comes to comfort us when she senses that things have gone awry. When we are stressed, she is the best reason to smile again.

Plus, this cruising community is incredible. We’ve been gifted an AC unit to combat the heat (thanks, Liquid!), had help figuring out how to pull our prop off (thanks, Empyrean!), been picked up and dropped off when the outboard was out of commission (thanks, Calico Skies!), been buoyed by texts with troubleshooting suggestions and offers of spare parts (thanks Alegria and Cavu!), and have had some serious margarita pours (not sure I should thank you Slawless). We really miss our friends and family back home (and were so grateful to have some visitors in Peñasco), but the cruising family is an amazing place to belong. Lucky stars, indeed.