Arg. I am SO sorry for losing not one, but TWO posts in a row. The first one – no good reason. But this last one? Reasons. Let’s begin here:
It’s never, ever a good thing to have to be dressed in this fashion. Yes. That’s me. Yes, it is possible I’m channeling my inner Martian. Or. This is what happened after a simple haul out (when you pull a boat out of the water to inspect and paint the bottom to keep stuff like barnacles from growing on it) turned into a fiasco. We discovered some damage that had allowed sea water to intrude into the structure of the boat. It meant that what should have taken three days ended up taking two weeks. In this case, I was dressed to handle some of the chemicals required for the job.
Of course, none of us could stay on the boat while the repairs were underway, so we moved me, my husband and three cats into the back bedroom of my parents’ house. My folks are the best.
But after two solid weeks of hard physical labor, lots of brain fry, and anxiety over when we’d ever get our home back in the water, last Thursday – MY day to blog – the boatyard put me on standby. I raced up there. They finally got the boat afloat at 11 in the morning, just as a windstorm was rising. I’d never helmed that boat solo in those conditions before. We were inside a marina so there were lots of other boats to hit if I got it wrong. Can you say terror? I could. I did. But dang if I didn’t get out of the sling and out of the marina without any issue whatsoever. Dad says I even made it look good. Never mind that my hands were shaking so badly I’d never have gotten ahold of the wheel again if I’d let go. We spent the rest of that day on the water taking the boat south to Seattle.
That wind storm that had me so freaked? Died. It was sapphire sky and water the whole way. We watched porpoise feeding in the outgoing tide. We dodged fishing boats and their nets and played chicken with a huge container ship. Spoiler alert: They win. No question. Ever. After seven hours on the water, it was time for another shot of abject terror – docking the boat. Again. Something I’d never done. Mostly because it’s usually my husband at the wheel and me on deck. This isn’t so much some sexist statement about who should skipper the boat – it’s that my balance on deck is an order of magnitude better than his. So we’d fallen into this unquestioned habit. Turns out, there’s a lot to be said for cross training.
Dad talked me into our slip and there it was. Docked on the first attempt. Didn’t hit anything. No blood. Nothing sank. And now we’re good for another three years.
Have you ever done that? Done something you didn’t know you could do until you had to do it? I’m interested because I think those kinds of things are some of the best, most empowering stories out there. I love hearing them. What’s yours?