Many, or perhaps most, of the posts I’ve written here have been mere chronologies recounting our journeys in simple terms without flourish or expansion. My reasons for setting these events down has been some combination of a belief that our undertakings are worthy of sharing (narcissism?), a desire to record the events of our lives for our own memory (diarism?), and a hope that our stories will inspire people (delusions of grandeur?). To what end I hope to inspire people, I don’t know. Certainly not to be like me, since I’m sure if one weighs my virtues against my flaws the scale would tip steeply toward the flaws. I suppose my hope is that the knowledge of another person’s undertaking of any kind might broaden one’s view as to what paths lay open for them to choose.
When it comes to our time in the Sea of Cortez, however, I’m at a loss for motivation to commit such a log to writing. In essence, our journey through the Sea, spent basking it tropical sun, diving in clear water among exotic fish, sea surfing using our inflatable paddle board and sailing under deep blue skies, was idyllic. It was not without its trials and tribulations, including Jen’s brief and mysterious illness that caused us to make an emergency return to La Paz, rough conditions experienced beating up wind in a Norther1, losing our dinghy briefly due to a poorly tied knot (although I blame boat pixies), and others that I may recount at a later date. But the pleasanter aspects of our trip far outweighed the bad. We forgot our anxieties about the future. We succeeded in ignoring all the unfinished projects we’d promised ourselves we’d accomplish during all the free time on our trip, and even avoided most of the pangs of guilt our upbringing and culture have programmed us to have as a result of our lack of productivity. We delighted in time spent with visiting friends, and relished our new friendships made. We purely, deeply, and undistractedly enjoyed ourselves.
But like all good things, our days in the sun had to come to an end. As I write this we are paying off the debt accumulated during our good times. That payment is in the form of a laborious and trouble laden bash north. Whence we will return to the real world of bills and bank accounts, professions and repairs. Our dreams of many years of cruising have largely been smothered by a soggy blanket of shortcomings in our boat and finances. But hopefully Serenity will shine anew with a year or two of love and we won’t become those people clinging to the deteriorating boat they once dreamed of going cruising in, only to put it off year after year to save a bit more or fix things up a bit more in all that free time or with all that extra cash we never seem to find, and when found is so easily lost again to a little temporary recreation.