Today was my first day off since May 23rd. It was fabulous. I sprang out of bed, ran five miles, ate a burger for breakfast at Phillip’s Diner (where, just as the reviews stated, people looked at us when we walked in and one old man even came up to Harrison and I and asked, “You’re not from around here, are ya?”), then I sunbathed in the grassy park for hours, occasionally reading the first page of Moby Dick. You’d think I’d have it memorized by now.
Then, as the boat left on a sail, I walked 2+ miles to Walmart and the grocery store.
It was a relaxing day. I needed it so badly. If only because it was my time to do with whatever I wished. The rest of my days are in a controlled environment. “Going to sea is incarceration,” quipped Captain Dashing the other day. I hadn’t actually thought about it that way until then – now I can hardly think about it otherwise. That’s exactly how I’ve felt lately. Incarcerated. But today I was in control.
Tomorrow we leave for Clayton, NY. It’s not a long trip as the crow flies – ten hours of sailing at average speeds – but our plan is to meander down through the thousand islands and anchor somewhere tomorrow night, then continue on Tuesday into Clayton for our big arrival.
We’re supposed to get four passengers for this short transit but so far no one has shown up.
As usual, I am falling asleep as I write this. And I’ve got a big day ahead of me tomorrow, feeding 12. So… Over and out. More back stories soon, I promise.