Time on Land.
Beginning of August we hauled out the Imagine. The prices here in Puerto Peñasco for sanding and painting are so good, that we decided to go all out and sand the whole boat from top to bottom including the bright work (wood parts). The bottom paint was still good for another year, but we had brought bottom paint expiring soon and again the prices were good, so we just did it.
It is easy to get into the yard and hard to get out of it. For the first month, we stayed in a B&B to escape all that dust from the sanding and the paint fumes. We were longer on the hard than we wanted to, the work took longer, then life happened and we traveled.
While I enjoyed our time on land thoroughly, I must say that I can’t wait to get back onto the water. Landlubbing is fun for a bit, but I miss the freedom. The freedom of being on water, the air, feeling every breeze, every wave, being outdoors, the sky, the views, the sun rises and sunsets and the nights at sea.
On land we were pretty much captives of air-conditioned interiors and cars, because temperatures of more than 100F/36C with high humidity are unbearable on land. We capitulated and bought a small window air conditioner, which just fits in the companionway. On the hard in the dirt lot of the boat yard, it saved us. With the hull exposed, it can get very warm in the boat!
On the water it rarely gets that hot, there is always a slight breeze over the water, cooling off the air. In marinas, tied to a dock, it gets hot like on the hard. But it’s always pleasant at anchor. As soon as the anchor has set, the boat swings bow first into the wind, we open the hatch and air rushes through the cabin. And if you still feel hot, you jump in the water and run around in skimpy clothing or nothing. Not likely, that that is accepted on land. I love that freedom to choose, how much clothing I want to put on and love the casualness of cruiser’s garb.
On water there isn’t any schedule except for the one the wind, the elements, the boat or we dictate. The wind needs checking and to be responded to. The boat needs maintenance and daily checks. After that we are free to do as we please. Distractions on the water are old school: swimming, reading, writing, cooking, playing games, watching the sunset, having a drink. We haven’t hiked yet because it was way too hot for that during the summer. But you get the picture. No internet, no emails, no phone calls, no TV. Except for the occasional text via satellite phone. We watch movies in marinas but not at anchor. We wake up and go to bed with the sun. Totally last century. And I don’t miss a thing.
I love the mental space the lack of electronics affords me. I feel in sync with my surroundings rather than chasing after something. On land there is always something more, better, bigger, sooner, faster, louder, richer. And also get under it’s spell after a while. On the water is only the now and your own thoughts, fears, dreams, imagination.
Observing landlubbers and re-integrating myself, I notice the stress this ‘bigger, better, more’ generates. As if we feel more alive, when we run after things as if our lives depended on it. It’s like a primal instinct. Like the hunt for more has replaced the hunt for survival and essentials. It doesn’t make sense, because most of us are safe in the Western world. I understand this though, on land I feel more vulnerable than on the water, which doesn’t make sense at all and should be the other way around.
Living on land in Mexico opened a new culture to us. Mexicans seem content. Everybody smiles. I haven’t heard anybody complain, be rude, fight, shout or honk this entire month. At the same time, there are plenty of occasions people could be frustrated about like heat, poor and failing infrastructure, lack of city water, old cars, little comfort. Mexicans know this, but they seem to shrug it off. It seems their happiness is more important than being frustrated. There seems to be a collective mantra that one can choose happiness. What a concept. I am glad we choose to spend time here.
