First Thing Smokin'

Everyone wants to go to heaven.  No one wants to die.

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

Some time later I'll write about the very amenable group of traveling yachties we've met here in Puerto Montt, and I'll certainly say something nice about the local boat owner who gave us a hard dinghy to replace the Little Dipper.

For now, though, I've got a few jobs to attend to.

In a less frantic time, this certainly would have gotten a post of its own.  The boys - Elias especially - are mad for pets and livestock.  Can't wait to get to Alaska and start up a menagerie.  But what sort of pets to have on a boat?  The answer was four snails, collected from David Tideswell's garden.  The snails are free now, after enjoying several snail lifetimes' worth of fresh cucumber dinners.