Pulling in the lines and
waving goodbye to family and friends at the dock was the easy part. Getting ready to transition from a
house to a boat was harder, much harder. My husband, Ed and I had
talked about leaving port for several years. We bought the right boat, rehabbed it… and we were
ready. NOT! Well he was anyway. He had recently retired and was ready
to sail the road less traveled. It’s
one thing to talk about it in the future, another when reality comes to call.
Leaving port meant leaving work
Leaving Meals on Wheels was
the first reality check. I was
actually going to go through with this.
I had the best job in the world…. most days anyway. I worked there for nearly 19 years. I worked with hundreds of volunteers
each year. I helped to make a
difference in the lives of elderly and disabled. It was fulfilling work.
A sabbatical crossed my
mind, but that route was not in the best interest of Meals on Wheels. The agency really needed someone at the
helm who could continue to move the program forward. That person turned out to be Peg Marshall. I realized that it was never
a good time to leave and that it was time for me to make a change. Once the decision was made stress
diminished a bit, but other challenges came forward.
Leaving port meant leaving family
It is fair to say that I
became quite emotional every time anything I thought about leaving my
grandchildren, Lexi and Sam, for such a long time. My mom and dad, still live in Sharptown where I
was raised, both have a few health challenges of their own. What if some thing happens and I’m
not around? I have a close
relationship with my own children.
All three are independent and on their own, but I would also be away
from them. I’ve always been there
for them whether they needed me or not. I still worry about them even at ages
34, 32, and 27. A Single Side Band Radio and a Pactor modem will allow me to
stay in contact with them via e-mail when cell phone coverage ends in the
Bahamas. I’m also flying home for
six weeks to welcome my third grandchild and visit family and friends in early
spring.
Leaving port meant living in a small area
A 42-foot boat only holds so
much. I had to choose items we
could take. What was I going
to do to keep busy? I love to
read. There isn’t much room for books. A Kindle solved the book issue and an I
Pod the matter of music. We
were able to put 95 CD’s on the I Pod that we can plug into our radio. The Kindle holds 1000 books. I have downloaded 100 so far. Most are free from the Guttenberg
Project, Barltelbys.com and feedbooks.com. I downloaded Caliber, a free translation program that will
convert e-books to a format read by Kindle.
I carefully selected items
we would use. It ‘s amazing how
little you need. Crystal, china,
pizza rollers, curling irons, ironing boards, items we use most every day are
now packed away. On the boat I
have large, medium and small saucepans and frying pans. Crystal has given way to plastic
glasses. Plastic storage
containers double as mixing bowls.
Leaving port means a new way of living
The job is gone and I’ve
survived. I do miss my colleagues
and so many of the volunteers at Meals on Wheels. Now instead of getting ready for work and sitting in
traffic, I pull up the anchor and am underway usually before 7 a.m. I have not sat in a boat jam yet.
Instead, I watch dolphins swim along the boat. Pelicans fly in formation on
their way to roost. Mangroves and mansions pass by as Imagine carries me
forward. The grandchildren are only a phone call away. I get pictures when I can get
Internet connection. I talk to my
children and my parents every few days and sometimes more.
As far as living in a small
space, it’s not so bad. I’ve found
a home for most of the items I’ve brought to the boat. The forward berth is still somewhat of
a storage area. One perk is not having a huge area to clean Ed and I have spent a lot of time
close to one another. I can cook at the stove and reach in the
fridge at the same time. Mostly I’m relaxing and
having a great time. Soon we
will be on our way to Key West.
From there we head to the Bahamas.
Imagine was anchored in St. Augustine, FL at mile
marker 777 off the Inter Coastal Waterway when this article was submitted.
