One chapter ends. Another begins. Headed back now to Orion. Day late, dollar short? Week late? No, a stinking year later than planned! Lost to the Covid, to the Trump, the masks, the paranoia, the misinformation, the madness and fear and absolute bizzarre-ness of the last year. For Orion just a lot of rain, heat and a couple of hurricanes to deal with. For the rest of us it’s been much more intense.
So it’s back to to find out just what 2 years on the hard in Guatemala does to a boat. Will the engine start? Major question. Dinghy motor happy? Batteries good? Solar still working? Much could be wrong. But maybe all will be well with a little love and tenderness. My guess is that sweat and a few American dollars also might well need to be applied.
And hard to drop into the future with so much of the past still in the mind.
For now leaving Elia in our sweet little love nest in Gulfport FL, with the past winter composed of small victories of planting Avocados, Papayas, Guavas, Bananas, and much more. Planted a cocktail citrus tree with Valencia Oranges, Meyer Lemons, and Persian Limes all on the same tree. Who knew? Even found a little (forgive me, Orion) motor boat, with a Huge Johnson to toodle around the Florida islands. Joined the Boca Ciega Yacht Club to fulfill at least some of my east coast yuppie fantasies. Lots of walks on the beach, Spades on Mondays, low stress times.
In our personal tiny world a very laid low kind of year. Elia and I wed on Desoto beach in February with just the dolphins as witness. Then she back to Colorado in May, while I fly to Guatemala with Dale, an old traveling buddy from way back in the day to bring Orion back into shape and sail her back to Florida by way of Roatan (the Bay Islands of Honduras).
And what to take away from the last year. What can be said that hasn’t already been written. So much of my thinking around it is tied in with the idiot that used to be our president. Four years of ascending bullshit. Each week more insane than the last. And then in this last year, how many more people died than had to because of that one motherfucker. And how many people are still following his absurdity. Vaccines are getting easier and easier to come by, but then there are many people, not a few of them the same ones that decided not to wear masks, who aren’t going to get them. C’mon people. The answers all seem so obvious from where I sit. If not for yourself do it for the rest of humanity. Or If you don’t want yours give them to the people in Guatemala who are crying out for them. And so easy I find to rant and rave. Plugged in? Yes, I try to let it go.
And the little plane on the digital map is over Mexico, headed into Guatemala city. At this point Orion is a 2 year old memory and a blur of anticipation. All I can really write about is the recent past side of life.
Just beginning to feel the joys of a post Covid world. I can feel Music, Art, and Humanity inching back. Gulfport/St Pete is full of incredibly talented musicians that are just starting to come out. Heard some Dead sounding tunes from my back porch and tracked down a party over a mile away, with an awesome Dead cover band. Walking through the tall trees, going where the wind blows, blooming like a red rose, breathing more freely, light out singing, I’ll walk you in the sunshine. Sunshine daydream. I smiled, I danced.
Turns out Gulport/St Pete is way more awesome than we had any idea. We first came here because there was a marina and boats and a cool little town, and mom was down the road in Sarasota. But as we have spent more time it turns out there is quite the scene. Tons and tons of art and music, brew pubs, young people, Dali Museum, Chihuly Museum, big public mural projects, huge shuffleboard courts (really), sailboats, kayaking. It certainly doesn’t have the topography of Colorado, really not much more than the kitchen table, but it does have beaches and islands and cool little mangrove swamps and trails where you see alligators and sandhill cranes and wild pigs and the ability on any given night to watch a sunset with your bare feet walking a white sandy beach.
Feeling quite lucky to have landed where we did for the winters. And always putting a shout out that there is room for more. Come on down. The houses are cheap. The weather is awesome (from November until May). Let’s play.
So back to the here and now, which is in the space in-between, and above the lives.
Tucked away in Delta flight 1810, seat 34A. Tampa to Guatemala City.
Headed finally to the next adventure ONBOARDORION…