Those of you reading this who are fortunate enough to already be living on the water may have to dig through your memory a bit to recall these feelings; as may those who have enjoyed a life long addiction of messing around in boats...then again, maybe you won't.

We were not supposed to be sailing this weekend. We weren't even supposed to be at the boat. Spending time with grand kids was the weekend's only purpose. But we found our way to the marina late Saturday with me having about reached my "Dora video" limit. I love my grand babies, though at ages 3 1/2, 2- a little, 2 months, and two weeks, they can easily slide, swing, swim, cry and sleep (and watch Dora Videos) until Grandpa T is flat out of energy and interest. (In spite of Deb's insistence that I never grew up!)

So there I sat Saturday evening, stretched out on the foredeck, leaning against the cabin top and gazing at an absolutely stunning 3/4 moon though my 7X binocs. Nearby cockpits were filled with good friends sharing the easy laughter so natural to boats. And suddenly, here at the start of my third season, I was completely struck at being so lucky as to be sitting on my own boat, at this magical place, Deb by my side, Nomad nodding easy on her dock lines.

Sunday morning dawned as the first real day of summer, a promise of hot to come and already humid. The "to do" list called and soon the sweat was dripping off my nose into the newly painted bilge while I reinstalled the pump. Other work got done and then Deb realized that the items remaining on "THE LIST" were either waiting on parts or were cosmetic and could sit undone to another day.

"Any reason we can't go sailing?" That was all she had to say to completely change my focus from "getting stuff done" to "getting off the dock."

The yearly shake-down cruise for those of us forced to endure the off season is (at least for me) more of a crew shake than a boat shake; though I was pleased that nothing failed on little Nomad in spite of all our work. But we got going, got the canvas up and trimmed, and picked a good point of sail with little drama. Within minutes all was well and I was again just amazed at the whole thing...the boat, the water, the sailing, and the fact that we were completely at ease in this unique little world.

Some 5 hours later we were back at the dock and, okay, I am a little out of practice putting Nomad back at her pier. At least our new life-line rig made it easy for Deb to step off the foredeck and lasso our out-of-position bow. Benefiting from the additional cooling loop of our new water heater, our little diesel was running 15 degrees cooler than last year and dug right in when I needed it to help fix my screwed up approach. So ended a day as close to perfect as anyone can dare to expect.

And guess what? The grand kids will be around for another week and I can't wait to see them starting this afternoon.