Grenada, August 2015

At anchor, life aligns.

Staniel Cay, At Anchor Up Against the Rocks
Staniel Cay, At Anchor Up Against the Rocks
Martinique at Anchor
Martinique at Anchor

At anchor, our sailboat points her bow into the wind (unless the current is stronger than the wind). The wind whips over the deck and down the open hatches, creating a cool breeze where otherwise hot humidity hangs.

At anchor, our sailboat points her bow into the waves (unless an errant swell comes in from the sea). The boat rocks slightly from bow to stern as the waves break against the raked stem, moving on a single axis in line with the length of the boat.

Anchor Line
Anchor Line

 

At anchor, our sailboat is grounded by a single line (unless we’ve thrown a stern anchor because current or swell was keeping us off the wind). The weight of the boat pulls smoothly against that single line.

 

 

At anchor, our sailboat is a shouting distance from any other boat. Neighbors are close enough to wave at when you pass, but far enough to generally forget their existence.

Guadeloupe at Anchor
Guadeloupe at Anchor

At anchor, our sailboat is a (sometimes long) dinghy ride away from civilization. We have sundowners on the boat, make home-cooked meals. We read books and magazines instead of the internet.  We talk to each other.

Hog Island at Anchor
Hog Island at Anchor

At anchor, I sleep well. At anchor, I read.  At anchor, I swim.  At anchor, I feel like I have obtained a balanced, relaxing, enviable life.

 

Mount Hartman at Dock
Mount Hartman at Dock

At dock, everything is unaligned.

It’s hot, because the wind isn’t diverted through the hatches and you can’t swim near the dock. It’s rocky, because waves are hitting the beam or the stern. It’s jerky, because multiple lines tied from the boat to the dock compete for slack. It’s loud, because neighbors are a few inches away. It’s expensive, because we’re paying for the dock and eating and drinking more on land.

At dock, I feel like the life we fled was not that different from the life we’re living.

At dock, I can’t wait to get back out to sea.

Mount Hartman at Anchor
Mount Hartman at Anchor

GrenadaMapHere in Grenada, we’ve anchored at Hog Island, Calivigny Island, Mount Hartman Bay, Prickly Bay, and St George’s, all on the southwestern part of the island. We will likely be anchored here until hurricane season ends on November 1. Most of our friends and social activities are in Mount Hartman Bay, but the water is cleaner in Prickly Bay and the stores are a shorter walk, bike ride and dinghy ride away. We’ll likely bounce between the two for the remainder, going out for a sail every couple of weeks to dump our holding tanks far off shore.

Most certainly, we’ll remain at anchor. (Unless I can convince Jason to pay for docking at Port Louis or Le Phare Bleu, which both have pools!)

At Anchor

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