The Long and Winding Road

5/19/2010
It has been a long progression of twists turns and dark places, but the dawn appears to be breaking. So much has happened and we are on a completely different path than I thought we would be on.
It has been too difficult to write about the journey thus far, so many things have happened, and every twist seemed to be against us for a long time. When things are good, time moves so swiftly, but when times are difficult, it seems to last forever.

The time we spent in Monterey was frustrating and at the same time fantastic. Interesting how it can be like that. I think it was frustrating because we had a plan, a direction we were heading, and we faced roadblock after roadblock. It finally became evident the road was impassable for us, at this time. The time of year, the problems with the engine, and finally finances.

After we made the difficult decision to move back home, we knew it was the right one. It was good for us to be there for our family, and they were there for us. We helped my Dad move from a large home into a mobile home park for seniors. It was a good move for him, and while we were getting on our feet, we had a place to stay and food to eat.

But you know what they say about fish and company, both stink after 3 days. Having been adults, on our own, with our own families for most of our lives, it was difficult to adjust to living in someone else’s home. I found a good job rather quickly, but it didn’t seem quick at the time. An illusion of dark times.

At times, I would think, we should be in Mexico, anchored off of a quiet beach, or near a small village where we could row ashore and to live like the locals did. I was happy on the boat. The sacrifices and challenges seemed manageable. On the boat, there was a purpose, a reason, a goal. But on land sacrifices seemed enormous. Dark times.

I believe God has a purpose for everything. My struggles during this time would not accurately reflect my feelings if I did not express them in the contexts of my beliefs. I believed when we arrived in Mexico, we would have an opportunity to share, contribute, give to others less fortunate than us. Our trip did not come down to that. It was a series of others helping us, receiving friendship, help, care from others. We were not the givers, we were the receivers. The people we met, the unselfishness, care and concern of others was humbling. It also renewed and inspired faith. We have friends now we would have never known, had we not had the challenges we had.

I could not understand why it seemed every financial aspect of our life seemed to take the wrong turn. Why things kept going wrong. I searched myself, and did not see where we had done wrong and were being punished. I never believed that was what was happening, but I could not understand why nothing seemed to go right. What could possibly be Gods purpose in this? I struggled, I fought, I cried, I pouted. I was not easy to live with, poor Marcus.

We had done all the right things, bought the tough seaworthy boat, reinforced, rewired, reground, scraped, checked, rechecked and made sure the boat was ready to take care of us. We studied, took classes, read books, talked to others, went to seminars, and prepared ourselves, both mentally and physically. We downsized, saved, paid off, rented out, financially prepared for a season of lean times. The tools were ready, the boat was ready, we were ready. We had done everything right. What happened.

How many times have you read stories of people taking off for the South Pacific that barely know how to hoist a sail, in a boat that is ill prepared for the trials of the sea. A wing and a prayer. Seems like you hear about every now and again. Maybe you just don’t hear about the “almost” group.

But for whatever reason, this was as far as we were to go; for now. We start working, saving, and prepare to strike out on our own again. It is time for our own place, Dad has been patient, I have not. Slowly but surely we start opening up like a snail that has been poked, and pulled back into his shell, and now that things have quieted down, we start reaching out to the future.

A call comes in. There is a late winter storm, and the boat in front of us has chaffed through her bow lines, still tied by the stern line to the mooring, her bow is slamming into the bow of Quiet Moon, wreaking havoc with every swell. The swells and conditions were such that the harbor patrol felt it too dangerous to their staff to attempt to secure the boats, so the damage continued for hours. When finally things were calm enough to remove the offending boat, our boat was severely damaged, still securely moored.

Even now, it is difficult to write about, she is such a part of me, her beautiful bow, now shattered. So as we struggle to come to grips with the awful truth and magnitude of her injuries, we realize she is beyond our ability to repair. Disbelief and sadness. Again, we had done the right things, we made a special trip to Monterey to secure her on the mooring, to be certain she was safe. Now, through no fault, or oversight on our part, her bow, and foredeck are severely damaged, and we are in no position to repair her. So, again, another twist, another dark ally to navigate. Why??? When will this difficult time end.


Then a glimmer of hope, light at the end of this long dark tunnel. The other boat has insurance. Insurance, amazing word of hope. Right or wrong, we had chosen to “self insure” by spending our money on anchors, chafing lines, strong ground tackle, and being diligent, and careful. But when you are absent, you are not able to look after your boat like you can if you are there. Somewhere in the challenges we were facing, we thought about adding insurance when she went on the mooring, but life was going by in a blur by then, and the thought was lost.

So now, maybe the bigger pictures starts coming into focus. We had realized that we would have to sell our beautiful boat, but it would be difficult. Repairing the engine, and trying to market it long distance, and the boat market now, well we would have to sell her for much less than she was worth, or it would take longer than we really had, and costing us expensive slip fees as well.

I know God knows the past and the future, and what is best for us. Maybe he is up there saying, “oh child of mine, I will fix this for you, much better and quicker than you can imagine, but you are not going to like the way I do it”. Sometimes the cure is painful, but necessary.