A Record?

An Old Couple (of what?) With Their Little Dog

Happy birthday to Dwight, celebrating his 79th birthday this merry month of May. In September I will celebrate my three-quarters-of-a-century birthday. Does that make us officially old? Despite our ages, I fervently hope we never hear ourselves referred to as being spry.  We are much too big to be spry.

Does anyone know of a couple older than we are who still float around the European canals in their own boat?  If so, we sure would like to meet them. If not, we are contacting the Guinness Book of Records.

Our bags are almost ready to be zipped up for our return to Echooooo and, this year, we are looking forward to getting back to the boat. We haven't decided where we will go but an itinerary is bound to turn up if we chat with enough people about canal and river conditions. 

We would like to stick to the smaller, less traveled canals, though. We've had enough of big rivers with big traffic. A quiet country mooring where Yogi-dog can feel free to use our passerelle when he wants would be perfect. Throw in a few morning songs from les oiseaux, a nearby grocery store for Dwight and some electricity for my sewing machine and we would be happy campers.    

We just might find it. Stay tuned and we'll let you know when we do.

Momentarily off the subject of boats, here are a couple of links to web sites which tickled our fancy when we weren't thinking in a marinely manner over the winter.  

The first is a highly inventive way of reusing those ubiquitous 1 liter plastic bottles.  Genius!

http://www.isanglitrongliwanag.org

And not to be outdone, Volkswagen sponsored a nifty little contest with such a terrific theme that you just gotta' love that company and their cars.

http://www.thefuntheory.com/ 

 

Lost

Yogi's ready to travel

Witch doctors and shamans believe dreams can foretell the future while Dr. Freud seemed to think our dreams struggle with the present or past, trying to make sense of our lives.


Right now I'll go with the good Austrian doctor. All last night my dreams were that something was missing. I would wake, then sleep, then wake again; apparently very disturbed....poor me!


It came to me this morning that what I am missing are the slippery days of February and March  2012.  Did anyone see those 60 days whiz by? I know I was here because no one reported me missing but how did I manage to misplace 1,440 hours? 


Here it is the 3rd of April and we are leaving for our Echo boat on May 8......May 8! 


Ready or not here we come.

For Auld Lang Syne

I wonder why I keep them?  Of course, I thumb through our old log books to get ideas for this blog but, as far as I know, Dwight has never looked at them and I'll bet he never will.


There are 6 logs in this house, the first one written in 1988. Then there is another log on board Echo in France, just waiting for some 2012 stories.

Puget Sound with Mt. Ranier looming nicely way back there

I suppose the real mystery is not why I keep old logs, but what I've managed to forget. How did we get lost bicycling through Vancouver's Stanley Park; what July 4th celebration with French locals dressed as British and American soldiers; how could I have forgotten all the engine trouble with Chapter III....every third or fourth log entry has a complaint about that motor coughing or smoking or stopping, and then there is the cryptic note in the Chapter III log that we were having trouble with Jeff. Who forged my handwriting, we've never had trouble with any Jeff!

Chapter III in a lock somewhere in France

Why do some scenes stick? If I remember the night our Cap'n Kitty fell overboard, a traumatic experience for all three of us, then why can't I remember the day another boat wanted to rescue us because we anchored our sailboat, Espejo, in the wrong place during a 48 knot blow. That must have been a little hair raising, too. I certainly do remember Cap'n Kitty bringing a live mouse into my bed one night but not that the cat smelled like a skunk. Must be true, the log says so.
  
And the places mentioned; where is Playa Chiquita or Jewfish Cay or Los Frailes and why can't I recall Misy sur Yonne?

We Three off the coast of Mexico

Ah well, I suppose I can put it all down to too many memories and not enough brain power, but I do treasure the many scenes that manage to float up through my foggy mind like cream on milk. A sleepy island in Puget Sound where the only noise was the crisp clip-clop of a deer's hooves as it crossed a macadam road; the night a very tired frigate bird tried to sleep in our rigging while we were sailing off the coast of Mexico; the morning smells of baking bread in small French towns, yum.

Cap'n Kitty aboard Chapter III watching the French countryside roll by

Then there are a few things I don't have to concentrate on remembering because they just don't change.  In one long ago log entry I complained that Dwight chose an unsafe spot to tie up making getting on and off the boat a bit dicey for our Cap'n Kitty. The same thing happened last summer with Echo....poor Yogi-dog!


So let's raise our glasses for a toast to the memorable, the unmemorable, the unchanging, the ever-changing.....to the New Year and to us.

The three of us high above Lake Tahoe, Christmas 2011

Surrender

Right now, I feel like doing what Yogi-dog does when he meets a bigger, stronger more aggressive dog; he just rolls on his back saying "I give up...really".


I am surrendering to Mother Earth and her weather patterns.  Last May, I posted a picture of this Tahoe street covered in snow; tree branches weighted down, white lawns, little dog tracks in the middle of the street.  It was a springtime winter-wonderland.

Now look......

No sign of snow looking east

Or looking west either

It is December, almost Christmas, and instead of a white one we will have a brown one. No snow is forecast for the near future.  In the meantime, our desert house is getting rain.  Go figure.

How can a dog play in that?

I am perplexed but that's all right, I am old and supposed to be confused.  Come to think about it, Mother Earth is also pretty old and maybe she's got of touch of dementia so we'll forgive her.....this time.  To all our friends:

Merry Christmas or

Happy Hanukkah or

Best Wishes for Al-Hijira or

Happy Winter Solstice.............

Oh, forget it, just have a good time whatever you're celebrating!

Truth and Consequences

Younger & Skinnier

No Gray Hair

 
I’ve always been intrigued by those who can take everyday, unremarkable occurrences and find life changing signs and universal philosophical truths in them.  That is not one of my talents.

 Until now, I haven’t given too much thought about how our serial voyaging has affected us; how some of the incidents we’ve gone through might have given us the opportunity to grow and expand our outlook.  Mostly, our uppermost concerns have been surviving many of them.  There is a oft-told cliché that sailing is long periods of boredom interspersed by moments of sheer terror.  Whether by sail or motor, most boating journeys taken by do-it-yourself captains and crews can be included in that.  The longer you are on the water, the greater your chances of experiencing some kind of nastiness.

But now, searching for something to write about by going back through our old logs, I am pausing to wonder what and where we would be without our serial voyaging.  Perhaps we’ve never had a life-changing epiphany, but little by little we have been enriched.

Heading Out - 1988

However painful or pleasurable, one step always leads to another.  Thinking back, I can even recall the smells of our very first day of long term cruising.  It was one of those rarely perfect Pacific Northwest days with gentle breezes making it easy for our little sailboat Espejo to slip across the channel to our first Puget Sound anchorage. Quacking ducks looking to be fed surrounded our boat as we lowered the anchor through sun sparkled water in the protected bay. We spent our afternoon exploring Vashon Island and lazing on the boat.  Each day of the next two months was almost as perfect, with just enough rain between the sunshine to add a little spice.  The end of our cruise was just as memorable. Beginning our drive south, the traffic noise, congestion and fumes on the freeway actually startled us, we’d become so used to peace and quiet.  That just-right cruise set the tone for our next 23 years.

Sparkling Ducks - 1988

Without our voyages, our outlook  would definitely be limited.  By remaining at home and safe, would we understand that people are people no matter where you find them?  Underneath our trappings of headscarves or prayer caps, designer sunglasses or Ferragamo shoes we tend to be alike. Some years ago, in an under-stocked Central American grocery store, I watched a poorly dressed woman try to decide between buying a bag of beans or one of rice.  Surely, she has the same feelings for her loved ones as the well-tended women we saw exiting Paris boutiques carrying beautifully crafted, overstuffed shopping bags.

Learning about others taught us about ourselves; our limits, our capacities, our hearts.  We try to be worthy of  the small and large kindnesses shown to us by strangers over the years and we attempt to forget the truly rude people we’ve encountered.  Dwight and I are fairly insensitive so most insults have gone right over our heads anyway.

Nothing being free, what price have we paid for our journeys?  Here Dwight and I disagree.  He feels that not one thing has been subtracted from his life, on the contrary, without serial voyaging his life would have been dull.  I, on the other hand, with family I love, feel a tad guilty by having missed so many of my grand children’s early years and being away when my daughter was struggling with family medical problems.  Never once, though, has she mentioned any resentment about my absences; she’s only cheered my small successes. 

I am truly fortunate.

 Hugh McKnight's "Cruising French Waterways" is our favorite go-to book.  Have a look at it, click here

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It's The People

This year we were glad to leave our little Echo boat and get back to our roomier Arizona house.  However, now that we've been sitting here in the desert for three days short of a month, our feelings toward canal cruising are softening, especially after receiving a very welcome email from new friends, reminding us of one of the reasons why we cruise.

Dorte & Bjarne, a Danish couple cruising on their boat Bisse, did most of the lock work as we both traveled down the Canal des Vosges. 

Dorte hanging out at the top of a lock wearing those shoes.

Usually ahead of us going into a lock, we watched, amazed, as Dorte would grab the rung of a lock ladder while Bjarne slowly drove past, taking their boat to the front of the chamber.  She scrambled up those ladders wearing flip-flops, not even serious non-slip boat shoes.  At the top of the lock, after securing the lines Bjarne lifted up to her by boat hook, she'd scurry back to our boat to take our lines. This went on lock after lock after lock without a slowdown or mishap.  Although a couple of times our hearts were in our mouths as we watched her actually jumping off their boat onto the ladder.  Scary people.

Dorte and Bjarne were in the cursed lock with us when we had our "incident" and they stuck by us afterward to make sure that neither Echo nor Fran nor Dwight broke down. Considerate people. 

Bisse heading south, hope we keep in touch

And we were pleased to get to know Jan and Jonda (I think I'm spelling that right) flying the South African flag from their boat, Bolero.  We met Jonda as she was hobbling around the Toul marina.  Though she is a yoga teacher, strong and in shape, Jonda managed to break her hip when she and her bike took a tumble in the marina at Strasbourg.  Lying on the ground for a long time unable to get up, she was finally found by a stranger.  She asked her rescuer to go to her boat to get her husband but, unfortunately, he brought back the wrong man.  It took another trip through the marina before Jan was notified of her plight.  

After her surgery, despite needing crutches, Jonda was still able to get on and off her boat, even after the boat was lifted out of the water making a climb down an 8 foot ladder necessary just to use the marina's bathroom.  We know when we see Jonda next spring, she won't be hobbling anymore, she will be running.

I'd like to know what's up with these cruising ladies?  Are they trying to intimidate me or inspire me?
  

Jiggedy-Jig

Home!  

We are happy to be here, Yogi-dog especially as he always misses his friends when he is away and traveling is never easy for him.  He made himself the talk of DeGaulle airport by insisting on carrying his stuffed bear (read security blanket) throughout the terminals and wouldn't let it loose until we put him and the bear into their kennel for the long boring trip across an ocean and a continent.  Then, in Las Vegas, it was the same...a little dog stubbornly toting a stuffed bear almost as big as he is. Well at least he gives bored travelers a chuckle.  

Yogi with bear..or bear with Yogi

Last night, as a large pack of coyotes was yipping its way through our complex,  I was reminded of one reason why I like Europe. There is nothing that wants to eat my dog along the canals; no coyotes, no bobcats, no mountain lions.  Nor are there any rattlesnakes or javalina to threaten him and what a relief it is not to be always on the lookout.  But then with slippery decks and turbulent lock water we could lose him overboard,  Well, geeze....it's always something, isn't it? 

The people of this household are particularly happy to be home with a car and easy shopping.  Corre, France is a town with only 600 inhabitants, one grocery store, one boulangerie, a garden store and two restaurants.  We noticed that the stores in Corre weren't big on restocking their shelves so when the last item was sold......well, it was gone.  The boulangerie was a little better but didn't always have our favorite kind of baguette. 

The quiet center of town

Then there is the bicycle contraption our marina lends to you, free of charge, so you can ride to the grocery store.  Believe us when we tell you that it is easier to walk, although you don't look quite as charming (or silly) when walking.

Echomarche is the name of Corre's grocery store

I owe my avid readers and Dwight an apology.  Before I flew to Liege, Belgium to meet Dwight, he told me that beside building the settee, he had an surprise waiting for me.  It was a doozie.
Dwight put a hot water line into the galley sink.  We now have hot, hot water going into the bathroom shower and the kitchen sink.  Oh, what luxury.

Because we have no new adventures to write about now, I am going to go back through our old log books to see what other stories I might be able to dredge up from the past.  Stay tuned.