Today is kind of the day Mia and I have been waiting for for
almost five years now. Today we’ll set sail for Sweden, the final leg of our
voyage ‘home’ that started in earnest in the spring of 2008 when we first laid
eyes on Cybele, the boat we saw in
Oxford and which I knew would be ours
the minute I pulled into the parking lot where she was hauled out.
The voyage proper began last year on July 4, the date we’d
set for ourselves as D-Day, when we’d leave the dock no matter what the state
of the boat, adhering to the old adage that a yacht is never truly ‘ready’ for
the sea, and at some point you just have to cut ties and go. Notable events
surrounding our departure? It was exactly a week after our USA wedding party,
less than two weeks after our actual wedding in Sweden, and the day after our
friend’s Dana and Ben’s wedding. We left their party up at Heidelberg Country
Club early because we knew what was looming the next day.
It was 10:30 in the evening by the time we actually cast off
the dock lines from Sarles Boatyard in Annapolis and said goodbye to my mom and
dad (who’d taken us out for one last dinner ashore), and it was closer to
midnight by the time we rafted up with Micah and Adam in Whitehall Bay (we we
did leave the dock, we only went about 200 feet before having to wait for the
drawbridge to open for nearly an hour, thanks to the fireworks display in the
harbor that evening and the traffic jam across the bridge). Well, the boat wasn’t
ready for sea, and neither was I – I’d forgotten the charts of all things on Sojourner, my mom and dad’s boat, and
had to hitch a ride at 2:30am with Micah into Back Creek and cycle over the
Sarles in the middle of the night, fortified with rum and pineapple juice that
we’d been drinking in celebration. There was no way Arcturus was going to return to the dock – it just wouldn’t have
been right.
Fast forward about 3,000 miles and a year and a month later,
and we’re getting ready again to make
for sea. This time is decidedly less stressful – the power tools never got put
away until the Bra D’or Lakes in Canada last year (we hadn’t even had blocks
installed for the small jib, forcing us to run downwind off Nova Scotia with my
mom and dad aboard and run for shelter in Shelburne. The boat wouldn’t sail to
windward with anything but the genoa), yet for the last two days in Scotland,
we’ve had enough free time to start training for a marathon again and get two
coats of varnish on Arcturus’ exterior
teak. As I write, I’m standing in the laundry room doing one last load of
clothing and Mia just stopped by to ask me if there is anything left to do.
It’s only 11:15 in the morning, and we won’t be leaving until high tide around
5:00 this evening. So yes, decidedly mellower.
The boat is in the best shape it’s ever been in (knock on
wood). I added 60 feet of chain to the main anchor rode here in Inverness,
reorganized the anchor locker to get some weight out of the bows of the boat,
cleaned out the lazarette (again to remove weight from the stern), and readied
our second anchor rode under the main settee in case we ever need it (it had
been buried under the vee berth previously, basically useless). With the diesel
now chugging along fairly reliably (again, knock on wood), the rig all squared
away (I finally added turnbuckles to the last two mizzen shrouds that didn’t
have them) and new lee cloths just installed this morning, I actually feel ready to go.
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The goal originally was to head to Shetland from Inverness,
take a peek at the UK’s northern most plot of land and learn a little Viking
history on the way. That’s the main reason I got so involved with the anchors,
thinking we’d need them up there if the wind got up, as it does north of 60º.
But the longer sat here in Inverness, waiting on a package of Swedish charts
we’d ordered from Stockholm, the less inclined I was to visit Shetland and the
far north of the UK.
Initially the plan was to head up that way and write an
article about it for SAIL magazine,
which they were to run in their adventure cruising issue in the next couple of
months. We’re close enough, I thought, to make a go at it, have a little
adventure and a little mission along the way, a purpose beyond merely
sightseeing, which Mia and I really need on trips like this. But Shetland, as
much as I hate to admit it, wasn’t my
goal. It’s been Sweden all along. I’ve now know Mia for over five years, and
yet I haven’t spent more than a month or so enjoying the summertime there. I’ve
only sailed for two and a half days in the archipelagos (with Ryan, in
September 2009), and the way our work schedule is panning out, it might not
even happen again next year.
It was only really when we made the decision a couple days
ago to forego Shetland that I allowed myself to realize the next stop would be
Sweden. All morning today Mia and I have been high-fiving with excitement –
‘we’re sailing to Sweden!’ we kept
repeating to each other. So in the end, there never really was a decision to
make. It was made all along, we just took a little while to find it.
My mom’s mantra was always to follow your heart, do what you
love and the rest of it will fall into place. Now, more than ever, I believe we’ve
finally figured that out. So the immediate future sees us with just about five
hundred miles through the North Sea from Inverness to Marstrand, and we aim to
sail it directly, foregoing stops in Denmark or Norway on the way and pushing
on towards Sweden, which has been the goal all along. Thanks mom, for helping
us figure it out.
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