On homes, anchors, and getting from place to place

On homes, anchors, and getting from place to place

 

We have plans to move to Virginia in the nearish future. We’ve had these plans for a while, and somehow that future seems to never get any nearer. Target dates for getting our house on the market have come and gone. I’ve even applied for jobs in the area we’d like to settle in, thus far to no avail.

Several  people have told me that I’m a very patient woman, presumably because I never became a homicidal maniac during the long wait for a fully functional kitchen in my house.  I like to think that I made the best of it, and didn’t complain too much, but in truth, I know that I did complain and gripe and play the martyr more than I’d like to admit. I try, but patience is still oh so hard. I mean, who can even deal with a slow internet connection anymore?

The truth is I find the wait to move so much harder than waiting for a kitchen, and feeding our family for years without a kitchen sink – nevermind the rest of the kitchen – was pretty darn hard. Because when you know you want to go make roots somewhere else, the place where your house is just doesn’t feel like home. Sometimes our rate of progress feels so slow and I just feel stuck.

We got stuck once, in Green Eyes. We ran aground on our way out of Brenton Bay and got stuck for real. Luckily it was at low tide, but we were really close to a marker on our starboard side and afraid that when the tide rose and freed us, we might drift into it. Alan rode out to the other side in the dinghy with an anchor. He set the anchor then ran that line through a winch so it had plenty of tension on it. There was nothing to do but wait.  I read my book and napped a bit, the kids played. Eventually, the combined forces of the tension from that anchor and the slowly rising tide pulled us free and we were able to continue to our destination. It was actually a nice, relaxed morning after the initial flurry of activity to get that anchor set.

We are setting an anchor now that will help pull us to Virginia, I’m sure. We are keeping our new boat, Tipsy Lady, at Stingray Point Marina in Deltaville, VA. It will be an inconvenience I’m sure to have to drive that far to spend time out on the boat. It will also be a source of tension: a constant pull in that direction. And things will keep falling into place on the other end. We will get the house prepared for sale; the tide will rise at its own pace. When the time is right, we’ll break free of the muck and proceed to our destination. Just maybe that little bit of reassurance will help me do patience a little better in this last leg of the wait. Maybe I’ll learn to relax and enjoy this moment.

Then again, even if I’m not really any more patient, at least we’ll get to spend lots of time down there in the meantime. Perhaps it will placate my impatient nature enough to help me leave off the nagging and snarky comments. I’m sure Alan hopes so.

Here’s Tipsy Lady at her new home at Stingray Point. You can see the Stingray Point lighthouse in the upper left background through the trees.

IMG_0896[1]I have to say that so far we absolutely couldn’t be more pleased with our new marina. We were made to feel so incredibly welcome, and it is just beautiful there – and very sheltered from the wind, which was a very good thing when we came in yesterday. The place is definitely loved and we are excited to be a part of the community there.

I also love the connection to history there. I have a huge history nerd crush on John Smith, and he is the one who named Stingray Point – after he was stung there in an incident that nearly killed him. Only nearly. He was a resilient guy.

 

Tipsy Lady

Tipsy Lady

It is a time of transition. I have used this space (when I have remembered it and made the time to use it at all) largely as a means of recording and sharing our family’s sailing adventures. We have been sailing on our beautiful Bristol 32, Green Eyes. She has been a wonderful boat for introducing us as a family to sailing.

I confess now to leaving some slightly unpleasant details of our trips out of my accounts. It’s not that I’ve been misleading, I’ve just left a few bits outside the frame of the picture I’ve presented. Bits like…

Sorry, you’ll just have to get used to sleeping with somebody’s feet in your face. There’s nowhere else for her feet to go.

And no, you can’t go up or down the stairs at the moment, I’m trying to prepare dinner and the steps are my only available “counter space.”

Sorry, you can’t get any toys out now either, the cooler is blocking the toy drawer and there’s nowhere to move it.

Also, sorry you can’t pee until we tack because there are loads of bags blocking the bathroom door and I physically can’t move them yet.

And ohmygoodness is there any way possible to find a space where you’re not physically touching me when it’s this ridiculously hot? No?

In short, there have been more than a few moments of please can we take a dinghy ride somewhere, anywhere just to get off this boat and have a bit of space? It’s truly been wonderful, but we’ve outgrown Green Eyes.

We have found a new boat that we think and hope will be perfect for our family for many, many years to come.  On Sunday, we officially renamed her.  We had a short de-naming and re-naming ceremony, complete with champagne, sparkling cider, a bottle broken on the bow, and gifts of new boat shoes for the kids. Allow me to introduce Tipsy Lady, the 43’ Gulfstar, which is now officially our new escape, our home away from home, our adventure.

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