The second happiest day of a sailor's life...

It wasn’t too long ago, amidst the ever-changing Misty Moonlight crew’s plans, that we spoke to one of our many coaches from last year. How were things? We asked.

“Great! I’m on someone else’s boat drinking someone else’s beer. It’s a great improvement!”

We chuckled knowingly.

When you asked me six months ago if I would be returning to the boat I would have laughed...no way! Now I find myself on the fence. On the one hand is a winter free of burdens and plans. Boat hopping. Surfing. Traveling on a whim and a dime. On the other, an expensive, frustrating, greasy gamble—pull apart the engine completely, fix her, and head out on another expansive and unpredictable adventure.

While my mind (and my bank account) tell me that it’s time to move on from boat-ownership for the time-being, my heart protests. I’ll miss the glorious days of the three of us Windworthy Women, ripping along and heeled over, Sharkie making lunch, Hornsby at the helm (the wind always favored her), and myself, tucked into the leeward side of the cockpit, chatting on the radio.

I’ll miss the quiet nights at an anchorage all to ourselves, laughing over dinner, talking about absolutely nothing, engaging in a bawdy game of cards. Or rallying off in our dinghy, LV II, to adventures untold and sailing back using a shade tarp and a human mast.

But honestly, more than anything, I’ll miss the challenge. The 2 AM victories and the underwater repairs. I signed up for pulling up anchor at dawn, bleary-eyed and cursing, drinking coffee at sunrise, under sail, and headed to a faraway destination. I signed up for the University of the Misty Moonlight, which taught me a new lesson (or ten) every day.

I know I may be alone in this. Maybe that’s why they call me “The Captain.”

I look forward to the day when, carefree, with a guitar in one hand, and someone else’s beer in the other, I can look out from the deck of someone else’s boat and say, yes, this is just fine. But for the mean time, I want my crew, and my pony, and my beer, and my boat. It may be for only a day, before we send Misty onto her next great adventure under the watchful eye of some other windworthy folk, but that’s enough. Enough time to say our hellos, have a good laugh, and say, as it has been said before, “we should do this again sometime!”