Last night we convinced Connect 4 to stay for a final dinner. Somehow all of us are pierced with this poignant feeling that this time, this dream is fleeting. And another mid ocean sunset, another good fish dinner, another night of talking too long, laughing too hard, drinking too much and staying up too late seemed to be what this adventure called for.
I'm not sure if it's simply because Chesterfield is so special in and of itself, or because it's our last stop with these good friends before this all changes, but it seemed the right place to leave Travis the Cat's ashes behind too. I feel faintly silly about carrying my cat around for so long. We thought we'd leave him somewhere in Mexico--perhaps on an island near where we adopted him on our first trip. But nothing ever felt right, or maybe I wasn't ready.
But yesterday Ev and I brought him to the beach--on an island that is as close as it gets to heaven for cats. We wept a bit and laughed at ourselves and marvelled at how quickly all that is good can pass. I know though that I love as deeply as I can, and live as richly as I know how and the memories I've made are sustaining ones.
This morning we woke early. Before the sun. Ev and I chatted about the trip--eager for this last voyage--the one we've heard so many frightening stories about to be behind us. When we listened to the net I almost wished we were beside WGD--safely pulling into the customs dock, finished with our journey too.
We three are quite today. The boat is smoking fast--we've been averaging 8 knots under reefed down sails. We're part of a group of six boats all speeding toward our futures.
But behind us, oh behind us are some magical times.
S 20 40
E 147 29
30 to Bundie
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