Ramblings, Part I
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| Leaving La Paz... |
When we released the dock lines in leaving La Paz, I had made arrangements for storing
the car and truck, the trailers were all taken care of, the dock box had been
emptied, the electric bill had been paid, a marina travel letter acquired, and
the boat was sorted, secured, tied down, stowed and full of fuel and
water. I could clearly recognize that I
was leaving La Paz,
maybe for good, but in my subconscious this fact had not taken hold. I guess it was like graduating from high
school; you were very excited about moving into adulthood, and all the future
plans, and exciting things that you knew that lay waiting for you, while at the
same time knowing that life would never be the same again. You were leaving
friends who had come to mean a lot to you, and as exciting as the future looks
being in high school was a good life and there was a natural reluctance to let
go of it. Well, this is the same feeling
that I was having about leaving La Paz. La
Paz is a good place to be. Never in my life have I been closer to a
community than I have been in La Paz. There were times in Florida when we lived right next to people
for years with but a passing relationship.
Everyone had their own life going on, and it was all anyone could do to
keep up with all the demands coming at them from all directions.
When I became a part of the cruising community in La Paz there was a
common bond that seemed to unite the community into naturally occurring close
relationships. Everyone has to work on
their boats almost all the time. There
is always something that needs to be fixed, updated or rebuilt. The ocean is a cruel mistress, and takes a
toll on all who engage her. She is
corrosive, sometimes brutal, always moving, wearing, grating, and abrading
everything on a boat. It takes basically
all your time and money just to keep a boat cruise ready, and when you add the
upgrading and updating of equipment such as I have been doing, it has been two
years of almost continuous work to get Milagro to the state she is in today. But, as dramatic as that sounds, I have never
had a job that I liked more than getting Milagro ready.
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| Milagro at dock...she's part of the family |
Almost everyone in La
Paz that we came to know, had three major items that
dominated their lives: their boat, their travel plans, and meeting and getting
to know the people who share their ambitions.
I guess that the strong feelings of community come from the fact almost
everyone we knew had the same interest, same problems, same challenges, and
similar ambitions. We also found that
everyone that we became close to loved La
Paz, and we went about celebrating our feelings for
the place regularly.
But blue water sailing had been my dream for many, many
years, and there comes a time when you either follow your dreams, and release
the dock lines, or choose to change your dreams. And that time had come for me. I am now 70 years old, and although I don’t
look a day over 45, I do realize that I am on borrowed time. I have already outlived most of my family,
and in most ways I am fit and strong. I
have my problems with arthritis, joint pain, and muscle soreness like anyone my
age, but I can proudly say that I do not take any regularly doctor prescribed
medicines. All my internals are doing
pretty good, but the wild and rugged life of my youth has taken its toll on my
bones and joints. But none the less, if
I still have a demanding adventure left in me, it is either now, or never. No one is guaranteed a tomorrow, but the
older you get the less the future should be put off. But even with all that rational firmly in
place in my mind, I have on several occasions thought about something that I
needed, or wanted, and automatically thought that when I get back to La Paz I can get that at
(somewhere). Then it dawns on me that I
am not going back to La Paz for maybe never, and a feeling of sadness
automatically overtakes me. And no, I am
not a whacko, I am just sensitive.
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