September, 2020. Traverse City, Michigan, Old Mission Peninsula, Londolyn Terrace, at the dining room table overlooking the back yard and meadow on a chilly, blustery day. Rolling gray clouds are threatening in the north but the sun still shines on the last of the roses.
We had a hard time leaving Oxford, Maryland. We ate as much sweet crabmeat as was practical, stocked the refrigerator with fabulous strawberries and peaches. Anticipating departure was terrible. It meant the end was way too near. Dietrich was awake most of the night. We had a beautiful sail across the Tred Avon and Choptank Rivers. Crossing the Chesapeake was fast, under threat of high winds and a storm. We made it to Annapolis and mooring #46 (3rd trip to that one, first was on the way home in 2009, then last fall 2019) in Spa Creek with no glitches. We spent time walking familiar and charming neighborhoods, wearing masks and using the offered hand cleaners in shops. Loved every minute! Often had iced coffee (and fabulous lemon bundt cake) in the garden at Brown Mustache Coffee, admired shops on Maryland Street. We had a five second dinghy ride (we could almost push off Calliope and float over) to the little dinghy dock that lead to a gorgeous old neighborhood and a ten minute walk into the main harbor area. We do like Annapolis!
A motor to Eastport (20 min. south) and Bert Jabin's Yachtyard came too soon. We prepped for haul out and the truck transport to Michigan. It was 95 degrees at the overnight dock, then we spent four days on stilts in the yard while we removed everything (Everything!) from the decks. Dietrich did most of that work while I organized packing for our road trip, laundered, prepped meals and told jokes. We took one evening off to enjoy a visit from Deb, a friend who lived nearby. The Covid-19 cautions at the boatyard were very strict. All staff wore masks, some used gloves, indoor washroom/laundry facilities were cleaned twice daily and included signs that left no questions about expectations for consideration of others and general safety. Eventually, we rented a car and headed to Michigan. We took our own linens (one night in a motel) and packed a cooler for food. The drive through western Maryland was beautiful. The thrill of the trip, however, was a big stocking-up stop at Trader Joe's in Ann Arbor where easy virus rules were in place.
Arrival at home on July 13th was a lukewarm experience. Sooe, our beloved cat, was wary at first but eventually warmed to our presence. Our house sitter (Sooe's best friend) had not yet made plans to move out. He thought we might be able to share the house for a while, but virus cautions made that impractical. Most of his belongings were still in the house and some projects were in progress in the driveway. Back in early March, we shared the decision to be home by mid July. After all the hot, busy days in the boatyard, we were looking forward to a real bed and the familiar surroundings. Instead, we slept in a tent in the backyard for ten days. Dietrich needed access to his office and darkroom so we took over that area of the house while the main floor belonged to Sooe and his best friend. Finally, we rented a storage unit for the house sitter's belongings then helped him move to a newly available condo. We began the work of sorting boat gear and unpackig the two rooms where we had stored many of our personal belongings. After a year on a 34' sailboat, the house seemed too big. Now, in September, we feel more settled but are determined to make more donations to the Women's Resource Center!
Catching up with friends here at home has been a wonderful but slow process. While we received positive comments about our virus related habits as we floated along the east coast, we have encountered a range of opinions about how we should live our lives on land. We value well informed and respectful discussion but the virus situation seems to bring out strong emotions. Since Dietrich's work often requires him to travel, he has had to adapt some new strategies to keep himself, our household and our friends safe. It is our hope that, when the virus is under better control (and those masks are better designed!) the stresses will begin to heal. In the meantime, we are finding ways to remember our eye-opening year on the water. We are trying to keep In-the-Moment tasks from robbing us of time to ponder the experience. Bowls of newly collected shells live on the coffee table. Regular communication from cruisers we met along the way has helped...our shared experiences give all of us a special connection that we will strive to keep alive. Who knows what lies ahead? Some of us may meet again on the Trent Severn Canal in Canada, tied to a dock in NYC, at a little marina in the backwaters of Georgia, in an anchorage tucked behind a rocky island in the Bahamas...or maybe our guest room will be full more often. We will share the dune trails and Lake Michigan's clear water with cruisers who were skeptical about our glowing tales of Northern Michigan. Here is, at least occasionally, to living like someone left the gate open!
