Today, I dozed in bed, watching for signs that the sky was lightening and possibly brightening before I faced another day of (sigh) boat repair in (almost) paradise. Cue eye roll for most readers, especially those who are reading after their own long days of troubles and toil in cold, damp weather. Hang on though… our troubles are our troubles, right? Yup, I am aware that there is privilege in being here and writing all this but that is one truthful feeling prevailing on our dear Adiona.
But hey- the sun WAS shining and I was feeling better after the previous day’s malaise that had gripped me. Thinking about hot coffee and how best to cheer Joe through Day #10 of bilge diving and yoga practice( in other words: engine repair), I stirred. I also heard bow thrusters disturbingly close on this high-wind morning. I moved quickly to a vertical position.
SLAM! Swearing from outside the boat near my ear! Inside the boat: “What the f*&%?” was my first utterance of the day as I catapulted from the bed. I leapt to the deck to greet the boaters in front of us, who were now pushing their catamaran off our bow, the captain looking utterly shame-faced and shocked. “Aw man, I’m so sorry! I just hit your boat,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Good morning!” I answered, slightly recovering my manners while scanning our hull. He explained that he misjudged the current, was kinda new at this, and thought he just hit our anchor, not the boat itself. I looked around for signs of damage and found none. I was then joined by Joe who also cast a critical eye at the two boats and the crew, burly types, flannel shirts, hands in pockets, eyes glued downward. “No harm, no foul,” we agreed. I saw the boat hailed from Oriental, NC, so added that we loved Oriental, NC and its people, as we had spent a few fun-filled days there on our way to Fernandina Beach, Florida where we are now.
Joe and I descended to begin making the coffee we now needed to steady our nerves and the skipper called again. He thought he owed us money; he saw scratches on our sheer stripe, sauntering over a wad of cash in hand. Again, we went forward to examine. The scratches wiped right off, no money needed. Again, we parted. Our faith in people, in this community, affirmed, we breathed deeply. Glad to be alive. Happy to sip some coffee, eat oatmeal with fresh blueberries and chat with my mom on our latest no-progress travel.
Breakfast finished, Joe went off to retrieve our leaky water pump that cannot be rebuilt by a handy, local good Samaritan because a company shipped us the wrong bearings. Meanwhile, I gathered laundry, computer, washed breakfast dishes, started the round of communications regarding both upcoming travel(by boat and air), and carefully stepped around the open floor to make lunch ahead of time.
The golden hour while on the pier for repairs. Deep breaths necessary.
Joe returned, arms full of parts and packages. No laundry or writing yet. I was off to retrieve 1” diameter below-waterline rated hose for the water pump. The helpful clerk at West Marine generously cut a far longer piece than needed and only charged me $5, assuring me that I had the right part, as I dubiously eyed the white hose. I returned triumphantly before lunchtime; I was helping. Joe glanced at my find. “Wrong hose. To begin with, the one you want is black.” Ugh.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb0bfc78d-4d05-456f-9720-91fc724d9d6a_480x640.jpeg)
Back to work the phone. The Amelia Island Marina had what we needed and although they don’t usually sell to individuals, would do so. Back in the car, same direction as West Marine, I zipped across the island. Text messages from Joe to buy coolant and engine oil meant an added stop at AutoZone. I drove, working on memorizing the order of the cross streets: Ash, Beech, Cedar, Date, MLK..
Back again to the boat. Joe, hands covered in grease, was in a similar position to when I left. Lunch untouched.
As I write this, it is almost 3:30 pm. We have been working to get the throttle to fluidly move forward and back, he below deck and I at the helm. There is a lost and vital spring somewhere in the bilge that is alluding all attempts to be located. Joe is off, lunch now eaten, to find a replacement spring.
Our angel, Carroll, a friend-of-our-friend Teresa, has loaned us her car for the week, as Carroll is out of town. We’ve yet to meet Carroll. Instead, she gave me the code to her apartment and the keys to her car over the phone. We keep finding people like that out here.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F858c27e0-5514-4b5d-9de2-21084598606d_218x320.jpeg)
Mechanics sometimes return calls. Sometimes they don’t.
Some have gone way out of their way to help. Plans are made. Plans are changed. Generosity abounds. Friends, Rob and Liz, from Oak Harbor, MD sent some of their spare parts and Rob spent hours problem-solving with Joe via the phone, photos and texts. Rob even reached out to his engineering friends for more brain power.
Sea Tow has refused to tow us to Jacksonville to a place where we can get our engine fixed and keep our boat without paying them thousands of dollars because they towed us about 200 yards to water and electricity while we tried to find a place to help us over Thanksgiving. We are appealing. They aren’t calling back as promised.
Days have melded together in a Groundhog Day kind of way. Yet, we are okay.
Talks with my family and a few friends(hey- thanks for reading) prompted me to write this post. In preparation, I googled some quotes about plans. I found helpful advice such as: “A goal without a plan is just a wish.” (Antoine de Saint-Exupery) and “An hour of planning can save you 10 hours of doing.” (Dale Carnegie).
I didn’t google for verification, but I feel like Dale Carnegie was not a sailor nor did not work on any boat he was around with his own hands. Instead, I found another quote from DC Comic’s Captain Cold(Leonard Snart) that really speaks to the situation at hand: “There are only four rules you need to remember. Make the plan. Execute the plan. Expect the plan to go off the rails. Throw away the plan. Follow my lead and you’ll be fine.”
Saint-Exupery, a pilot as well as a writer, knew the importance of making plans and also contingencies. As a teen, I was obsessed with Le Petit Prince, especially since we spent most of a semester in Mrs. McCall’s advanced French class deciphering the French and the meaning hidden beneath the words. There are many lessons I found in that book that could speak to our now but two of the beautiful ones are: the important things in life are seen with the heart and relationships make life worthwhile. So, yes, while our plans go awry, it’s still Joe and I, us and the boat, new friends, long-time friends and family. It’s about community. Here. At home. In far-flung places. It’s the armadillo we encountered near the beach, the dolphins that greet us, the herons that watch us, the alligator that eyed us on our hike. And ah-lest we forget- look to the stars. “There is sweetness in the laughter of all the stars.. and in the memories of those we love.”
Postscript: Who doesn’t love a happy ending? As I was adding the photos, Joe returned with the spring. Miraculously, he was able to reach in to parts unable-to-be seen and inserted the spring. It stayed! He then fired up the engine. It is running! Jacksonville, here we come! Sweet grandbaby Ryland Josephine! Here we come! At least, that is the plan.
For now, it’s 5 o’clock right here on Adiona.
Thank you for reading, Jen! Writing helps sort out our experiences, right?
Thank-you for reading, Nancy. It helps me remember and process all that is happening! I have other posts that I haven’t yet uploaded. ⛵️ Love back!