July 2023

"Forever is comprised of nows." - Emily Dickenson

I saw this sign when we had breakfast at the Kilmarnock Inn. The inn celebrates the 8 Virginia-born US Presidents (Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Harrison, Tyler, Taylor, Wilson). The decor is very stately and includes the Presidential Seal. I took the picture of the plaque because it struck me as funny. But, naturally, because I think to much, I've spent some time contemplating "Nothing Happened." What would constitute something having happened? Certainly the drama of life was happening on the site. The house that is now the main building for the inn was built in 1884. There had to have been the ordinary (and yet still remarkable) activities of daily living. Perhaps during the year, a child was born, or someone passed from this life. Nature would have happened: plants grew, rain fell, wind stirred the trees. How much of our determination of value (of a place or a person) derives from events or deeds we consider worthy of note or notoriety? Then, of course, I start thinking about accomplishing things, checking off the "to do" list and the milestones we mark as evidence that we happened.

In our current life, much of what happens and when it happens is dependent on the weather. Most boat projects involve being outside, and nature dictates almost everything about sailboat travel. In general, and for us in particular, travel by sailboat is slow. What would be a one hour car drive is a full day sail. We no longer say "just" about doing anything sailboat related, especially boat projects, because nothing is ever "just". Whatever it is, it takes more time and ingenuity than anticipated. The nature of boat life requires one to be very aware of one's surroundings which makes being in the moment more of a habit. Life is slower, attention is paid to the moments, stopping to watch a jellyfish or notice cloud formations is the norm. When we are sailing (or docking - which we are MUCH better at doing), we have to be mindful of the elements and how changes may impact us. Dave has become expert at recognizing water ripples indicating approaching wind gusts. I am unlearning the habit of accomplishment. Seeing dolphins frolic or a gorgeous sunset is enough evidence that something happens all the time.

July's activities have been varied - to say the least! We've had sailing and city adventures. I've made two trips to DC/Baltimore: one by myself to spend time with Camille and Tasman and the second with Dave and Rylie to visit our DC family and to help Camille move in to her super cute Baltimore apartment.

The first trip to Baltimore involved a zoo excursion and a torrential downpour. The Maryland Zoo is undergoing some renovations. Between the entrance and the exhibits is a stretch of old zoo enclosures. In the overcast gloom, the abandoned section of the zoo was like a horror movie setting. We could easily imagine otherworldly creatures, or a deranged psychopath, watching us. My kids have good imaginations; it was wonderful to spend the day with them.

It was so hot in Baltimore that the prairie dogs were splooting.

Rylie came at the end of July and was with us for two weeks. We sailed to Cape Charles, on the Eastern Shore, close to the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. Cape Charles was founded in 1884 as a planned community to serve as the terminus of the railroad line running from the northern states down the Delmarva Peninsula and to be a port for steamships and freighters coming from the south. Cape Charles is a lovely little town with one of the largest concentrations of mid-century buildings on the Eastern Shore. It also has a great beach, which Sofie enjoyed. We had a bit of excitement leaving the marina. We undocked beautifully and it was all going so smoothly! Then, near disaster struck. The stern dock line had not been pulled into the boat and it got tangled in the prop. Dave realized what happened right away and put the transmission in neutral so the line would not get any more tangled. We quickly raised the mainsail so we could have enough momentum to steer the boat away from the shore. Quick action was needed as we had a short window of time when we could maintain course with the wind direction. Captain Dave had a plan! I took the helm while Dave donned the snorkeling gear. With Rylie's assistance, he was able to free the line. It was our first semi emergency and we did great!

We made a return trip to DC and Baltimore to help Camille move in and to visit Heather (unfortunately, Charlie was away). We saw the Barbie movie in a fancy theater with reclining seats and meal service. It was kinda fun to sip a cocktail, eat a quinoa bowl, and watch a movie on a big screen. Camille and I visited the National Cathedral. One of the stained glass windows inspired a painting.

We were sad when it was time for Rylie to return to Portland. It was wonderful to have her with us for a couple of weeks. Our last hurrah was a great seafood supper at the York River Oyster Company (YROC). We drove to dinner this time, but next time, we sail! I had a beer with the best name ever: Evil Genius Purple Monkey Dishwasher. It tasted like peanut butter and chocolate and was actually good.

Rylie's departure meant a return to boat projects. We got solar panels and are replacing our worn out lines. Dave is replacing all the instrumentation including radar. Lithium batteries are in process. The new instruments at the helm are a perfect example of why no activity is "just." We had to get a new navigation pod to hold the new instruments because none of the new displays were the same size. Dave has been a very busy man. He deserves a nap.

For several days, our boat has looked like this:

But, we have solar panels and the new helm station is awesome!

Someday we will have our boat back together. In the meantime, while nothing happened in July, life on Aevitas was lived with great appreciation for all the nows.