North Channel Blog for Friday July 29 2011
This, I Could Get Used To
Day Eleven of The Great Adventure and Capt. SO and I finally slept in. Slept in, that is, according to OF terms. There are many who could sleep waaaaaay later on a consistent basis, but we are not them. (Note how my grammar and spelling are slipping whilst I have been afloat.)
Sleeping well can be a casualty of hanging out on anchor. The captain sleeps with one eye open and one ear on alert – every night. Because the seagulls can be so noisy, beginning about 4:30 a.m., I sleep with my custom ear plugs but I find that my other senses are then on super-alert. I then become highly aware of movement of any kind so when Capt. SO sits up or gets up, for any reason (usually to check the anchor position on the anchor alarm), my ear plugs are out and I am listening intently. Hence, not the greatest for soundly sleeping through the night.
An aside: Here is my first texting “oh-oh” – that I know of. I just spelled “night” as “nite”. Guess I’d better keep my mind in third gear when spelling – especially when my spellcheck did not highlight “nite”.
I see that I have now digressed on two points away from my title’s intention – to write about what I could get used to having been afloat for the most nights, ever, since the Aqua RV came to live with us.
I love swimming and bathing in the North Channel of Lake Huron. The heat and humidity have not neglected this portion of the country but the cool water, and our immediate access to it, has made it manageable if not outright livable. Hot, sweaty and sticky skin? No problem. Jump in or climb down the swim ladder.
Bathing off the end of the boat has been a God-send. Washing my hair with this cool water has had the same effect as a cool ice cube on the back of my neck.
Sitting with coffee on the deck, in the early morning stillness. Going for a dinghy ride at 7:30 p.m., seeing the immense granite boulders and whole hills and mountains made of granite.
Sitting on the swim platform, just before the mosquitoes come out in full force, with total silence, able to hear the faintest of sounds – the other four sailboats well-spread out from us and totally silent, too. You can hear “nature” scurrying in the surrounding trees. The occasional loon’s plaintive call.
This, I could get used to.
Ancora imparo
