Count down to Homer

Port Townsend, WA, 23-Jun-2021 – In 22 days I will board a Delta Flight from SeaTac airport to Homer, Alaska changing in Anchorage. Rental cars are scarce; I will pay $125 per day for a three days rental car in Homer. In Anchorage, there are none – Jennifer and I paid $13 per day for a rental last September.

I am flying to Caro Babbo. The surge of returning has taken a long time to build in me. I once saw an interview with Norman Mailer describing the effects of using a testosterone gel. He said he hadn’t felt that way in years. Norman is long dead, but returning to Caro Babbo sharpens my senses and gives me purpose.

There is never the return to her that doesn’t have some apprehension. It is the not the uncertainty in the back of one’s mind when seeing a lover after an absence: Have things changed? Will I still be loved?

No, returning to a boat, our boat, is the apprehension of returning to a house that has been shut up: Will everything still be there? Will there be damage?

Maybe it is closer to returning to a loved exotic car. All of the above for a house, plus will it start? Can I get parts for the repairs I must make?

Unique to a boat: once I get it running, will it sink somewhere with me aboard? Will the rigging fail and Caro Babbo become dismasted?

I have been making lists of tasks to accomplish once I am there, things to bring, things to buy and bring, and things to buy to have delivered there.

Northern Enterprises, the justifiably famous, family-owned boatyard is several hundred yards from the water at low tide, and not all high tides put enough water under their dock to float a boat. Caro Babbo can go into the water on the 28th of July, but not again until the 6th of August. If we want to come out at the beginning of September, the earliest is the sixth and we better make a reservation now. Many boats will want to come out then.

I’ll live on Caro Babbo for two weeks, before Jennifer arrives, doing the nervous work of replacing the cutlass bearing that the propellor shaft passes through when it exits the hull. I’ll replace the dripless seal that keeps the water from coming in along the cutlass bearing: The continuous work to keep the saltwater on the outside of the boat and all the other fluids on the inside.

My friend Jesús is thinking about coming up and living on the hard with me. He is not a sailor but is planning on buying a large, wonderful catamaran that will cost about 25 times what I paid for Caro Babbo. As dearly as I care for my boat, I see her as a consumable. A boat that costs the same as a house is not a consumable.

How do I properly warn him about what life onboard a boat in a boatyard in Homer a distance from town will be like without a car? I’ll try to buy a bike for me that I can sell. Should I buy two?

There is no refrigeration. Water must be carried a hundred yards or so to the boat for cooking. The walk to the toilets is the same distance. I don’t remember there being a shower. The aft cabin where he may sleep should be emptied by then. It was full to the ceiling when we crossed with spares and souvenirs (from the French meaning memories – I like that). I must set up a storage locker – we may have five people aboard this summer: a crew state that I always enjoy.

The money flow starts: I need to replace the Vesper AIS transceiver – I bought the first generation the moment it was released. The firmware is the latest, so there will be no functional improvements, but the hardware in the eyes of the manufacturer is ancient. I have bought a replacement handheld GPS. As compared to years gone by, our cash outlay is minimal. I have spent more than her purchase price some years.

Money this year will be spent getting there. Jennifer’s ticket will be 50% more than mine (or at least it is right now, perhaps it will drop. I don’t know what Kayak is predicting). And getting back: the current plans are to return via Berlin. Jennifer’s grad school roommate is getting married – for the first time. We want to be there.

The voyage this year, six weeks, is short, a jaunt around Prince William Sound, one of those cruising grounds where years might be spent without anchoring in the same place twice. Bluewater is the envelope to push and I don’t know if we ever will again. Asia is where I want to sail to, but the stars, geopolitical, personal, and meteorological must align. It is a distant star to sail to. I’ll start with getting aboard on the hard and progress from there.