On The Flip Side.

Saturday, July 21, 2007
2110 hours

I spent the second (and last) night of the camp at Cypress Island, on Pelican Beach. It went fine, actually. The rain kept the mosquitoes down, and we stayed dry under a pre-existing shelter. There were very nice mulching toilets, with an interesting diagram on the inner wall so you could see what would happen to your poo. And Annoying Passenger stayed on the boat. In addition, there were s'mores, and singing. It was great. The next morning we had pancakes and cheesy scrambled eggs, cooked over a campfire by the Lady's crew, and then a few of us walked to Eagle Harbor. We were trying to get to Smuggler's Cove, but... you know, Eagle Harbor was pretty cool too. And it was a good walk. Very, very quiet. It was incredibly pleasant to have a break from human voices for a while. Since then, we've been in Anacortes doing dockside tours and battle sails. And I'm feeling a lot better -- still tired, but no longer on the verge of coming down with the boat plague (colds get passed around and around the crew). At the moment, I'm sitting in the Chieftain's aft cabin, where most of the male members of the crew are playing that pirate card game (the one with the little boats you assemble) and drinking whisky and talking loudly, and several of the female members are watching "But I'm a Cheerleader" and eating peanut butter M&Ms and laughing loudly. It's the polar opposite of anchor watch. I really like how these two posts balance each other out, how I get to have both of these extremes in my life.

In other news, I organized my bunk and, in doing so, found the missing aloe vera. And there was much rejoicing.

Edit: I fixed the map so you can zoom in if you click on it.

Anchor Watch.

Wednesday, July 8, 2007
0010 hours

I'm on anchor watch off Sucia Island, in the San Juans. This is my first time on any sort of watch. It's a beautiful night for it, calm and still, with a generous amount of stars overhead. Earlier we could see the shore group's campfire and the bouncing flames of a firedancer. We're far enough offshore that the mosquitoes can't find us. My watch companion is congenial and a patient teacher, both of shanty lyrics and boat check procedure.

Still, I'd really like to be asleep right now.

I've been so busy telling everybody how much fun sailing is that I forgot how hard it is. I'm really exhausted, just a few days in. I know it will get better, and I know there are times it will be much worse. But right now, just for the record: I'm tired. And this is hard. It's still totally fun and awesome and worthwhile, but, yeah, really really challenging.

Some fun things we did today: a laid-back sail/motor transit from Port Townsend, pretending we were the first palefaces to ever set eyes on the San Juans, rowing the jollyboat in to the island, rowing the jollyboat back out and in again when it turned out we'd forgotten several items, eating food cooked over a campfire, hiking in the woods, climbing around in the shallow little China Caves.

Even though I have some apprehensions about the night I'll spend on shore tomorrow (nobody brought mosquito repellent; don't know what kind of toilet facilities will be available, if any; one of the campers is really incredibly annoying; etc.), I'm genuinely sorry to be missing the next camping session. But my brother's getting married the day after that five-day session, and the real problem with being in the middle of nowhere without a car is that it makes it very hard to get anywhere else. So this means I'll need to skip out before the next camp, resulting in more days off than intended for me. Admittedly, I'm not entirely sorry about this. I can take home stuff I didn't need (can't wear my own climbing harness, rats) and bring back stuff I do (where, oh where is my aloe vera gel?).

And sleep.

A lot.

Packing; Heat.

I did find one benefit to 101-degree weather: clothes dry on the line quicker than in the dryer.

Makes it hard to think in terms of packing for cool weather, though. I want to throw in a bunch of tank tops now, but when I'm out on the water, I'll want long-sleeved shirts almost exclusively.

That great big duffel bag I bought at Andy & Bax last week? Not nearly so big when I'm trying to stuff a blanket, pillow, thick wool sweater, pea coat, two pairs of boots, and a small mountain of warm clothes into it. Of course, it'll seem plenty big when I'm trying to lug it around.

Anyway, the end is in sight, but I'm taking a break from the packing to post my latest mix CD. This one speaks to the transition I'm in right now, with the quitting and the leaving and the traveling and the changing, and all the emotions that go with that.

1. The Be Good Tanyas - Ship Out On The Sea
2. Björk - Wanderlust
3. Rocky Votolato - Goldfield
4. The Blind Boys of Alabama - Demons
5. Yes - America
6. Rosie Thomas - Wedding Day
7. Martin Sexton - Glory Bound
8. The Deadly Deaths - See The World
9. Indigo Girls - Reunion
10. Nina Simone - Feeling Good
11. The American Analog Set - Fuck This... I'm Leaving
12. The Owls - Air
13. The Finches - The Road
14. Regina Spektor - Fidelity
15. Bishop Allen - Flight 180
16. Jason Webley - With
17. The Staple Singers - This May Be The Last Time
18. Polyphonic Spree - Move Away And Shine

If you want to reproduce the artifact exactly, here is the cover image, and here is the image I used for the CD label. Songs will be available for one week, and are posted with the intent to promote, not rip off, the artists. If you hear something you really like, do consider coughing up the cash for an album. Even if you buy it used.

Now to finish packing, and maybe sleep a little. Tomorrow I will take the train into Washington. The train does not go to Port Angeles, so (thanks to my friend Truck) I'll be arriving at the harbor on the back of a shiny black Valkyrie. Vroom.

Gunpowder, Treason, and Formic.

Nature is conspiring against my efforts to use my remaining time at home effectively:

- The ants found a new entry point into my kitchen, necessitating a lengthy session of sleuthing, caulking, and cleaning.

- A raccoon stole my Tevas off the back porch and hid them in the yard. I found them eventually, but they now bear the marks of needle-sharp teeth. (This makes them, I admit, just that much cooler.)

- And the forecast for Wednesday predicts a high of at least 100. Who can get anything done in such weather? Besides Badwater people, I mean.

I am vexed.

However, a number of other things have gone very well. Grandma's 90th birthday celebration, for one. Delightful. And my transportation plans to the boat are shaping up nicely. And then there was this, which would make anybody's night.

(Well. Maybe not everybody's. Definitely mine, though.)

Chance of Departure: One Hundred Percent.

The Quit Your Library Job Party, for those of you who couldn't make it, was a huge success. There was a lot of fresh fruit and a lot of talking, and a respectable amount of baby-holding and game-playing and dog-petting. A total of three library-job-quitters were present (and zero mimes). Rain showers occurred, but failed to dampen the fun. For those of you who did make it, thank you. I'm so glad you were there.

I would have written about that sooner, but I've been on the road for the past week-plus. Last Saturday, two of my favorite people married each other in Nixa, Missouri, and I used that as an excuse to visit friends in Nashville, Milwaukee, and Chicago as well. So it's been a steady round of quality time with quality folks, interspersed with thrilling episodes on planes, buses, and rental vehicles. I'm in Chicago right now, actually, in a small, quiet apartment, using a keyboard with a very loud spacebar. Pretty soon Mitchey will get off work and we'll go contradancing. And tomorrow I'll go home.

There has been some confusion about when I depart Portland for the boat. Some of the confusion has been my own. The current plan is to jump the pier July 12th. That's really soon, huh?