Every year has its incident.
The seafaring life always throws problems at you as if to say; “So you want to be free, huh? Well how about this?”
“What now?” Replies the Viking Queen, “Haven’t I had enough in the past few years?” (Collisions, defunct batteries, ‘The Helgoland affair’, the Lowestoft submarine incident…) “Come, come, my diminutive pretender, Do you really think you can thwart me?” Sayeth life. “No, but just cut me some slack for once… just a trouble-free period where all goes perfectly!”
“How about a broken Starter motor? Will that do you?” “If you must, but I’d rather you didn’t!”
I tried to wake up from the nightmare, but it was still broken in the morning. No matter how much wishing that I could turn back the clock to before this odious event, it was not to be!
If I’m really honest, this whole lifestyle has had me questioning ‘why?’ many times; after all why put yourself in such dangerous conditions just for the ridiculous notion of being apparently free?
And then I apply the brakes, put the kettle on and have a nice cup of tea. (Ahh… that’s better!)
For eight years now I have run the gauntlet of being ‘free’, at least my own interpretation of it; wondering when my luck will run out, only to return with my tail between my legs to the employment market (isn’t everything a market these days?).
And then I witness the Divine painting her magnificence as the sun sets; or feel the sea air on my cheeks… My heart expands until it almost bursts with joy; so immensely grateful for these past seafaring years. No matter what lies ahead, I will never forget this dear old sailing boat and our thousands of miles together.
Thank you my starter-motor friend for keeping me grounded and grateful for the opportunities that come my way.