"After almost five years, we are nearly at the end of our trip."
"Maybe the fact that we walk around with guidebook in hand has
something to do with it." |
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.We are
motoring up the coast of Oregon, after waiting for a reasonable weather
window, and it looks like we should be home within a week, on Saturday in
fact. That is very hard for me to grasp. Home, home for good, the end of
the trip, in a week! After almost five years, we are nearly at the end of
the whole extended trip. Mom says that we’ve already finished the trip and
that what we have left is just like driving home from a vacation. The fun
stuff is over. Already it almost seems as though the trip happened to
someone else. It is really hard for us to imagine sitting in the cockpit
after dark in a t-shirt and shorts. These days I wear about five layers,
and even then it gets very cold if we have to steer after dark (if it is
too calm for our windvane). We say to each other, "It must have been
really hot in the day back then!" We can't really remember the heat;
instead we remember needing fans, or feeling that a baggy t-shirt was just
too much hot fabric. This is just looking back two months. Memory is
strange.
There are lots
of things that I will really miss, like swimming, windsurfing, snorkeling,
the long beaches, the warmth - the tropical lifestyle. We are going to
miss the freedom too. We can just decide that we want to take a land trip
and stop school for two weeks, or knock off early, to just go ashore, or
for birthdays, or for reunions (there are lots of those). Then there is
the open sky and the clear stars at night. When we were in San Diego I
couldn't get over how bright the sky was with the city lights reflecting
off of the clouds. You could barely see the stars. I will miss all of the
different cultures and experiences, and the interactions with people along
the way, many of whom are amazed at what we are doing. There was one
family in Sri Lanka that I remember especially. We were riding a train and
they made space for me and made me sit down. Only the father knew English,
but he translated for the rest of them. They were in awe. He asked me to
count up the countries that we had visited, and they were amazed; it could
have been hundreds and their reaction would have been just the same. They
really wanted to go to the US, so they asked me to take their four
year-old son back with me (joking). All over the world we have had lots of
great interactions with the locals. Traveling by boat, I think you get
more immersed because you still have to go on with daily life, just like
they do. Things like going grocery shopping are often quite the
experience. In Bequia we bought from the Rastas, keen for a conversation;
in Aden from stalls where the people taught us numbers; in Fiji from a
girl who gave me her address and begged me to write; and in the Maldives
from little stores where the people would barely look at us. Also, the
connection with other travelers is great. We always have a conversation
starter - "So, where are you from?"
One thing that I
will not miss once we get home is passages; at least right now I can't
imagine missing them. It is hard to sleep at night because of all of the
noise (windvane squeaking, hatches opening, people talking, sail changes,
objects sliding around), I am often at least slightly seasick, and someone
is always sleeping so you have to be quiet. Then there is steering or
rough seas. Right now I feel very lethargic and tired, and I haven't even
been up half the night like Mom and Dad (literally) have. The worst is
when it is rough. Going up top to check for boats you run the risk of
getting soaked with salt water, and it is hard to see the horizon because
of all of the waves. The boat is closed up (in the tropics this was a bad
thing, now we have the boat closed all of the time to keep in the heat),
and it is bashing around. There is nowhere good to sit because of the
heeling and I am always worried that it will get worse. It's hard to
sleep, hard to cook, hard to do anything but lie down. Of course, passages
aren’t all bad. They allow you to get into a routine, and since I am stuck
on the boat I usually get a lot of school and journal done. Also, you get
a great view of the sky, so sunsets are often beautiful, and it's very
peaceful when it's calm. Even so, the
good part of the trip is being at anchor, except for the rare bit of
pleasant sailing with calm seas and a gentle wind.
We actually have
a bit of that right now. This passage has been mostly calm, so we have to
do a lot of motoring and hand-steering, but today we are sailing. The wind
is light, but the seas are small and we are making good progress. Well,
it’s good for us. If you were walking on shore in a straight line, you
could probably almost keep up with us. With the good weather forecasting
around here, it seems that we have timed it pretty well up the coast of
the States. The wind is still usually from where we want to go, but we go
when it’s calm so that’s OK. In fact, today and last night we have
actually had wind from the south. We are still in shock: we have been
sailing for over 16 hours, AND making good progress. We managed to get our
whisker pole out last night and did some sailing DDW (dead downwind). We
haven’t done that since the Caribbean.
On the whole, I
think that I am looking forward to going home, at least at the moment. It
might be nice to have a more stable community, where you can actually plan
to do something several weeks in advance. I will like no longer being a
tourist too, I think. For four years we have been tourists, and everyone
can tell, either by looking at our skin or listening to our accents. Maybe
the fact that we walk around with guidebook in hand has something to do
with it as well. As a result we are constantly scammed and hassled, either
by people trying to sell us things, or people wanting us to take their
tour, bus, or taxi. Sometimes the attention is great because it helps us
make connections or get help, but most of the time it is a pain. I would
like being the local for once and actually speaking the language. I think
that school will be good too. I wouldn't mind having a real teacher,
rather than just course books, and friends. We are of course looking
forward to the comforts of home: proper shower, lots of water, a house
where you don't care if it's raining, stand-up refrigerator, SPACE,
washing machine, library, close grocery stores... I could go on and on.
Mostly it’s just the overall convenience of things at home, where you know
your way around and you have a car. There are a hundred things that we are
looking forward to. We have done without most of them for so long though
that we can't really need them. All the same, we will have to appreciate
them in the months to come, when we start missing travel.
Well, unless you
want us to write you about every event in our lives at home, which you
probably know about as well as we do, this is probably my last email. Wish
us luck settling in.
Bronwen |
