Five hundred Miles--the slow way

If the wind was in our favour we would have been arriving in Puerto Vallarta today. We knew when we set out though that it would be a light wind passage. The options were to go when it was still stormy (and get a quick ride), go when it settled and hope for enough wind, or wait for that ideal 10-15 knots on the stern quarter... Considering I'm not fond of stormy and we could wait a long time for perfect, we opted for light winds. So we still have 200 miles to go.
We're meeting my mum and stepdad in PV, in four-days, which was part of the reason for our departure (we were having such a nice time in Mag Bay we could have stayed longer.) The other reason is we're all ready to be south. Somehow just being down there and knowing all we have to do for the next year is gunk hole up and down the coast and into the Sea of Cortez is really inviting. This passage to PV is the last big one for a while.
It's funny how I still don't quite feel like I've arrived in my life. I keep having the sense that in one more harbour I'll be there. I'm not sure if it's because we spent the past seven-years being completely goal and deadline oriented, but that self-imposed pressure to get to the next harbour lingers. And the ever-present demand of deadlines just adds to the feeling that we're not quite there yet.
My guess is the fault lays with my personality type. Despite the barefoot-on-the-beach nomadic romance to cruising, to get this far you have to be at least a little bit type 'A' (and likely a lot type 'A'). There's no getting around it--dreaming doesn't get the boat finished or the cruising kitty filled. Then there's the reality of being endlessly aimless--pretty much anyone who gives it a try will tell you that having no goal comes with its own stresses (boredom even). We found it was fine for a year or so, but sometimes you want to feel like you've accomplished more than fixing a boat part, reading a book and looking at the waves. You want to have a purpose.
For today though it's enough to ghost along in seven knots of wind, making maybe four, knowing we have another full day of travel before we drop the hook, watching the waves change colour and shape as the sun rises and the wind shifts. Spending hours on deck with Maia--sighting silvery flying fish as they soar along the surface; cheering as they escape the hungry beak of a Boobie bird; and listening to Maia as she tries to imagine just what it would feel like to fly is fulfilling. Once we get to PV I can work on discovering a more structured purpose to give this life shape. But for today, I'm content.
----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com