It has been more than a year since we purchased First Light. Having her on the hard this long was not part of the plan...not that we had much of a plan. When we left Kintala, our intent (plan if you will) was to get back on the water as soon as we could after my two year commitment to the job was over. We knew it would be in a different boat, exactly what kind still to be determined. Once we were back on the water roughly half a year would be spent cruising with the family we left behind living on their own boat. The other half would be spent here in St. Louis, enjoying the life that has unfolded here. It would be the the aquatic equivalent to the retired couple who takes to RV living, bouncing around the country to catch up with the people they love scattered across the country. It has been nearly four years since we returned to land; buying First Light was a commitment to making it back "out there."
As the months went by, we managed multiple trips to our new-to-us trawler. Trips spent (as was expected) getting the thing ready to splash. And we are getting close. But life has a way of changing things up. The family that lived on a boat now lives in Kansas. Kansas, as you might be aware, is far, far, (far) away from anything like big water. Indeed, it is about as far away as one can get from the water while living in the US of A. This required some serious rethinking about how we wanted to go about living.
Our first adventure of full time cruising meant more than half a decade of seeing the people we love most in the world just two or three times a year. Being away from growing grandkids was a heavy burden that came with the lifestyle. Until then, I had never faced that kind of heart ache. It was serious. More than once tears flowed while sitting in a beautiful anchorage, thinking of those far away. Facing the same kind of goodbyes that came with our first foray onto the water did not hold much allure. Going back to it only worked when leaving our land-based family was temporary, while the other side of the equation meant pulling up to our water based family and dropping anchor next to them.
Then again, even with the heart ache, and having no family to meet "out there," being land locked for the rest of our lives doesn't hold much allure either. So the long debates started. What do do with First Light, how to make this work? How to balance being drawn in two opposite directions? How to be with family and still satisfy the wanderlust that resides deep in both our our souls?
It was always assumed that, when our return to full time cruising no longer made sense, First Light would end up on a dock not too far from St. Louis. So, a few weeks ago and still not knowing what the short term plan might be, we did some looking at the long term. A weekend spent scoping out the marinas along the rivers surrounding St. Louis ended in Alton, IL. After a little bit of debate we decided that Alton would, eventually, be First Light's semipermanent home. It is within easy reach of our land side St. Louis home. There are rivers to explore with places to anchor out for long weekends. And there is a massive lake just a day or two's journey way. We could, when we felt like it, just spend time on First Light while on the dock, living the boat life and heading out for an adventure whenever we felt the need. First Light will become our (floating) cabin out in the woods. But between now and then? No real clue.
Things putter along as things tend to do. We set tentative plans to depart sometime late this year, literally within the next several weeks. The thought was we would take First Light to the Islands one more time, then bounce around for a while. Eventually we would head back to the States, wander around the Keys, along the West coast of Florida, and up the rivers, and end up back in St. Louis. We would be doing the bottom half of the great loop, only going backwards and against the current. Once in St. Louis we would take up our no-longer-full-time-cruisers lifestyle. But there was one little hitch in that plan. What to do with me after we settled in?
We have survived these last few years on land because of a few very fortunate breaks. The first was that of ending up in a perfect living arrangement. A small apartment literally just yards aways from family we love and deeply missed during our years on Kintala fit our minimalist lifestyle. And second, I ended up at a job that is interesting, basically painless (unusual for jobs in my experience) and pays pretty well. That last is important for two reasons. The first is, not to put too fine a point on it, the world is a seriously screwed up place at the moment. Having options because we also have resources available just feels like the smart thing to do. And the second? Deb is pretty sure (and I happen to agree) that me being land locked without something like work to keep me occupied and challenged, would be...shall we say, difficult? As someone once said, "Getting married is for better or worse, but not for lunch."
The logical choice, at least for a while, would be for me to keep working after our return. Queries at the shop suggest that a leave of absence is possible, leaving me something to do to keep from driving Deb crazy when we get back. But for reasons I can't explain, the impending departure was making me very uncomfortable. Something just didn't feel right about the plan, but it was all we had.
We had considered a second option, with the same approximate departure date. It had us heading north rather than south. We had not had Kintala in the Chesapeake Bay for the last couple of years of cruising. It is a place we both enjoyed. Putting around it in a trawler would be a lot of fun. We have family there we haven't seen in a long time. There was some thought of making the bay First Light's permanent playground. But it is a long drive from St. Louis and what to do during the winter was a complete blank. That plan was quickly dismissed. Having First Light in the Chesapeake full time would simply not work. Back to plan “A."
While at the shop this week, I checked with the powers-that-be about the leave of absence. There is such a shortage of airplane drivers in our part of the world that instructors are getting very hard to keep, so the shop is pretty accommodating. They will be willing to hold my job and have me back as long as I would be back, full time, in just a few months. But I did need to give them a date as soon as possible. Scheduling clients, instructors, classes, recurrent training, and available equipment is the constant nightmare of this kind of operation. Just as I was about to tell them mid December until late spring time frame when I got a text from Deb suggesting I not give them a date. A possible third option was on the table.
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| Burgee for America's Great Loop Cruiser's Association |
The north half of the Great Loop is territory we have never explored. It would be a new adventure. The Islands and bits of Florida that we love have all been hammered by Mother Earth since we came ashore. Maybe we experienced them at their peak and it would be best to remember them as they were. Moreover, big as she is, First Light isn't really a big water boat. Sure she could make the Islands easy enough, and work between them. But, truth to tell, the ICW, rivers, and bays, are likely places where she (and we) will feel more at home. Also, I am happy with the idea of there always being being a land route between us and the family, one with no international borders to be crossed. And the best part of the plan? Grand kids can (if they want) come and go, meeting us at different ports of call, traveling with us for a while, and then heading back home with little difficulty. If there are no grand kids on the water to take First Light to, have the grand kids come over land to First Light.
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| Maybe our home for a few months? |
This has become the new plan, and it feels right. The next trip east we plan on splashing First Light. She will take up a dock in (we think) Oriental until spring. We will use up virtually every vacation day I have to travel east and take her out to strut her stuff. But there would still be an income to cover whatever issues might come to light once her system are put to work once again. Come spring we will take that leave of absence and head north up the ICW, becoming part of the cruiser migration one more time. But, once north, we will turn into half-loopers, ending up at the dock in Alton. I'll head back to the shop and we will settle into the next chapter of our lives. Who knows, maybe some day we will head south again, cross our looper's wake, and see what might come next.
So that is the plan...for now.
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| Oriental Harbor Sunset |
