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In lieu of a real post I present this photo montage of our last 3 days.

We did it! I can’t describe the ellation I feel right now as we bob around at anchor in Horseshoe Cove. We set the anchor around 4pm. With the sails already tended to, the only thing to do was flip up the solar panels and tidy up the lines. Then we all retreated to the cabin for coffee and UNO. We expect to get an early start to Half Moon Bay tomorrow, and then (weather permitting) continue on to Monterrey Bay on Sunday. Our original plan to go to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass this weekend was scrapped in favor of making some southbound miles before bad weather fills in early next week.

They came—finally—on the approach to the Bay Bridge. The saline evidence of a soul deep sadness that I have suppressed and longed for all week. This has been a week of goodbyes. A week of goodbyes, following another week of goodbyes on the East Coast. As my colleague and compadre of 12 years bade me an emotional goodbye on Friday, I felt my tears well up and then, mysteriously, they were squelched. I felt robbed. This week has been filled with replayings of that vignette; with a friend I’ve known almost as long as I’ve lived in California, to those who’s child I’ve seen birthed. Each time the tragedy of having to move away from these relationships that we have nurtured in order to pursue a life long dream, filled me to bursting. And yet, tears eluded me. ...

With just 4 work days between me and the life I have dreamed about, things are getting a bit hectic. We’ve been frantically dealing with last minute details like: shredding 25 hard drives and 26 backup tapes; buying a watermaker, swim ladder, coffee roasting drum; fleshing out the amazing first aid kit that Vick’s mom made with prescriptions etc; trying to cram in as much time with friends as we possibly can; etc. We are in a strange state of limbo that leaves us feeling neither excited nor particularly stressed. It’s hard to be too stressed when you are counting down to a dream life, and it’s hard to be excited when you have so much to do. Instead I find myself looking ahead and feeling brief moments of exhilaration which I quickly squelch so that I can stay focused. It’s like dreaming about someone else’s life. ...

This photo roundup covers the going away party and a few other highlights. Enjoy

There is just nothing like a small New England Town. I am sitting in a coffee shop in Damariscotta Maine. This particular coffee shop is attached to a book store. The book store, though relocated, is the same one that got me hooked on reading as a kid. The first memory I have of reading is a summer memory. It was June or July and we were staying at my grandparents’ cottage. I tore through the ancient Hardy Boys anthology that seemed to have been read by generations of Bradford boys. When I got through with the last one a peculiar melancholy overtook me. My mother, wise parent that she is, took me into town to the Maine Coast Bookstore and introduced me to Ewan Walker, the owner. He asked me a few questions and started to recommend books. ...

There is a distinct playful, childlike pleasure to be found in sailing a small boat. Sailing a bigger boat is blissful, calming, empowering, but it requires serious prep, planning, and attention too. When Olive woke up on Monday morning and exclaimed “Today looks like a GREAT day for sailing,” I immediately petitioned the Interwebs for local friends with boats. You can imagine my elation when, a few hours later, a Facebook friend (Diana Roberts) offered up Liliana, a Herreshoff 12.5 (aka, Buzzard’s Bay Girls Boat) for our pleasure. ...

Our summer visits home to Midcoast Maine have always been transformative and inspiring. Slowing our pace and enjoying time together as a family reminds us how life is meant to be and helps us to refocus our energy on things that matter most to us. This trip, as short as it is, has been no different. Already we have been talking about possible change of itinerary, and certainly thinking of as many ways to return to this idyllic spot as we can. The future is as uncertain as ever, but being here reminds us to be mindful of the present. ...

Vick and the kids are heading to New England this weekend to start saying goodbye to all of our East Coast friends and family. I’ll follow a week later and spend a week and a half there before we all return to Convivia to start the 3 week countdown to casting off. At this point I’m suspended in this twilight zone between the elation that this new life brings, and the stress of leaving behind so much that we’ve built (in our communities, in our relationships, and at work) and the stress of what we still must do to get off the dock. ...

A Friday ritual. A single photo capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. - via soulemama.

ManVan, I salute you. You drove a ton of boat stuff down from Washington, saving us hundreds on U-Haul. Then you helped us move from Mountain View to Emery Cove. You were there for shuttling stuff back and forth to the marina, and you’ve served us faithfully all these months as our nearby no-cost storage unit. When you wouldn’t start for me last weekend, I understood. You’ve been neglected, your fuel had been left too long, your headlights were probably left on by young, curious fingers. ...

There is a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go. Tennessee Williams It’s getting pretty obvious that Convivia is going somewhere. We’ve added a big anchor, a new Quickcover for our main, a life raft, a Monitor Windvane, and most recently four solar panels. People are now asking us where we’re going. The funny thing is we’ve had this plan to “go out the Gate and turn left” for a decade. We’ve been pretty sure for nearly as many years that we’d head south for the Baja Ha-Ha whenever it was that we went. And that’s all we have actually planned. ...

Self sufficiency is one of the most glamorous (to us) features of boat life. We look forward to the day that we can travel the world under wind power, take our food and water from the abundance of the ocean (well the water anyway, the fish will be a bonus) and draw our electrical power from the sun. As we prepare for our trip each thing that we have purchased and installed that helps the boat to sail better and safer has received a little emotional boost from the incidental fulfillment of the self-sufficiency goal. ...

Our friend Merileigh gave me a “day date” last month for my birthday. We had a little trouble finding a weekend that was open, but it turned out that Victoria’s birthday worked for everyone. We dropped Merileigh and the kids off at the California Academy of Science around noon and then drove to the Ferry Building to kick off our date. We ate a wonderful lunch at the Slanted Door and then grabbed coffee at Blue Bottle before heading around to our favorite shops for treats. ...

Ten years ago, with just my passport and a carry on, I hopped on a plane from San Francisco to St. Thomas, USVI. Tucker had arranged a flight and a ten day bareboat charter in the Caribbean. What an amazing way to spend my 25th birthday! We sailed out of Red Hook Bay, St. Thomas over to St. John, Jost Van Dyke, Tortola, Virgin Gorda, back to St. John, and returned to St. Thomas at the end of our ten days. ...