In a somewhat less dramatic vein, everyone on Galactic named Mike wants to keep moving, wants to go somewhere new every season, wants to avoid that awful fate for boats - sitting still.
But every one of these seasons that we stack up imposes an expense in terms of a frenzied period of prep beforehand. In the three weeks since we've been back from the States, we've had a taste of what inescapable obsession must feel like. Everything has been boat boat boat. No Spanish lessons, no getting to know Puerto Montt outside of its hardware stores, no writing for me, nothing else to speak of.
So we've acted obsessed, albeit without the inner motivation of the truly obsessed.
|Julia and Phil from Illawong, old Patagonia hands, give us the low-down|
|Yeah, there's a cruising guide. But information|
still flows from sailor to sailor via handwritten notes
We manage to keep Galactic in pretty good operational shape, I believe, but the demands of preparing for the trip south during the coldest part of the year, with complete self-sufficiency required, has put plenty of jobs onto our "do it now" list.
All that, I hope, is now nearly behind us. The boat is disorganized, and we still have a list of jobs as long as my arm. But there are precious few tasks that would keep us from moving.
So, a north wind is forecast for tomorrow, and that's our first thing smokin' (ahh, the vernacular depths and delights that are available to those who draw on the American experience). We'll get the heck out of here, get to the closest anchorage, and put things together.
|Dyeing Easter eggs|
|Hunting for Easter eggs|
For now, though, I've got a few jobs to attend to.