I changed my return ticket to France the other day and my heart sunk. When I left Noche I thought I would be back in three months. My spirits were beaming from the French culture and vivacity of the sailing lifestyle. So many magic moments one after another, no stress, just one day after another of everything you want it to be.
September 15Th is the date I will take hold of Noche's lines again and head for that next horizon. I am dreaming of when that daily routine resumes of putting the kettle on, drawing a few scoops from my elndless supply of stale bitter Caribbean coffee, walking down the dock to the bakery for a small baguette, some cheese and a bottle of two euro wine, stopping to chat with friends encountered months ago in some random far away place, pulling my sails back out, fitting them back in their places, and peeling through charts looking for that next adventure.
Today I was checking the weather, feeling remorseful and debating about taking a few weeks to go check on the boat. Its winter, I thought, but what does that mean over there? Jon's boat is snowed in there in bristly Brighton. That would be brutal.
The wind in the Bay of Biscay seems fine, and the swell not bad either.
Here is twenty four hours later, fifty knot winds and 10 meter waves.
Ah, life is good, maybe I feel like I am missing it, but the best is still to come.
Who do I know in the Bahamas instead?
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