Leaving yet again AKA Getting ready to go on what might well be my very last (long) trip.
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| As part of my pre-departure routine I went, of course, to say goodbye once again to my favourite beach. |
Preamble: Fall 2017 I rented a small house on a small river only 10 km from where I was working and 30 minutes from downtown Ottawa but the same time a million miles from either. It was a slice of absolute paradise in a zen kind of way with nothing but water and trees and sky visible from the huge picture windows and with beavers, otters, and great grey herons as frequent visitors right in my backyard. It was the loveliest place I’ve lived in all my life and yet also the loneliest. I taught during the week, of course, and visited friends and family on weekends, but mostly I moped about, I lay on my bed watching the fall mist rise up and dance above the water and the sun and moon and stars rise up over the treetops and the deer come out and walk along the far shore as the leaves slowly turned gold and red and then fell to the ground, and I endlessly regretted letting my relationship from the previous year fall apart.
It took awhile but inevitability, if in imperceptible increments, my tears eroded my sadness away and eventually I reapproached my standard state - lost and alone and utterly unsure what to do next with my life.
So when the semester was over I cheated. I retreated to a condo at the base of Tremblant owned by the friend of a friend who doesn’t use it anymore and spent two glorious months living there skiing and skiing and skiing. It was heavenly. The snow was always soft, the sky always sunny. I even woke up one day to find that fresh air and exercise and being continuously surrounded by happy people had successfully soothed my battered soul and that the world was once again a perfect place.
And then, of course, who wouldn't, I looked about and found a boat to crew on.
Four years ago I’d crewed from South America to Tahiti (well, almost to Tahiti, but that’s another story) and so this year I chose a boat that was going to start in Tahiti and sail westwards towards Australia. Sailing right across the Pacific from one side to the other might not be on everyone's bucket list but I was pretty sure it was what I wanted to do. After booking my flights to Tahiti however, in a spatt of unparalleled indecisiveness, I cancelled them, then re-booked and re-cancelled them, and then re-booked them yet again. I waited 24 hours with baited breath to see if I was going to re-cancel them a third time, but, to my astonishment, I didn't, so instead I went into pre-departure preparation mode.
My five year plan has been to teach five months of the year, travel five months of the year, and have two months left to sit on the beach, visit everyone's cottages, and eat sushi and play board games with my kids. And it's what I've been doing. But I think after this trip, my fifth trip, I'll rethink my next five years and change up my game plan, which is why this is most likely my last long trip. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I made a list and checked it twice: things to pack (mask and snorkel, long sleeved sun shirt, shorts…), things to buy (headlamp batteries, maple syrup, sunblock...), things to do (get oil changed in car, reschedule upcoming medical appointments, file income tax…). As always the list got longer before it got shorter. And, also, the most important things weren't even explicitly on it (walk round town with Shelley, have dinner with Suzanne, call Shelia, spend time with each of my kids…). I still wasn't sure this was exactly how I wanted to spend the next 5 months - and I always worry about what I'm going to miss when I'm not here - but having a list, and a deadline, focussed me. Before I knew it I was having my last meal in Canada (supper with Ben and Fred and Laura), stressing about whether to take my favourite jeans or not, and walking, at 2 am, in my sandals, the only footwear I was taking for my 5 months away, through several inches of fresh wet snow, down Bank. The 97 bus, right on schedule as always, whisked me off to the airport, I had my last Timmy’s coffee, and was on my way.
My first trip I had had an agenda (plan my life), my second one I got serious about writing (my blog), and the one after that I tried to keep a visual record of the places I went (with a point and shoot). This time I'm travelling light. In more ways than one. I was supposed to have bought and learnt to use a drone and gopro last fall but was I too busy feeling sorry for myself to do anything productive. So I didn't. And I'm not only heading off without new gadgets and gizmos, I'm heading off completely cameraless. I doubt I'll even blog (this post is just to tease SD) because 5th time round there'll almost certainly be nothing new to say about sailing, and I've given up on trying to figure out my life, so... nothing at all to write about.
For now I'm just going to let it flow.
Try to be a positive proactive productive crew.
And maybe have fun.
We'll see.
PS I ALWAYS seem to forget how LONG it takes to travel almost halfway round the world. On paper my flights looked fine: Ottawa to Newark 6am - 8am, Newark to LAX 9am to noon, LAX to Faa'a 4pm to 8pm. Bam. All done in one day. But, leaving on an international flight means being at the airport 3 hours early so I had to be at Ottawa airport at 3am which meant setting my alarm for 2am to get up and walk to bus station first. And, with 6 hours time changes factored in, my lovely-looking 8pm arrival was in fact 2am Ottawa time or 24 hours after I'd gotten up. And, there was, of course, a huge snow storm going on in the Eastern US so my first flight was over an hour late which had me running like a bat out of hell in Newark to make the connection there, which I did, just, but then we all sat in the plane, for three hours, before leaving the tarmac and, on top of that, had a super long flight as we flew around the storm instead of straight across the states. And, of course, the story doesn't even end there. I'd known that you can't fly to Tahiti without proof of onward travel (they are, justifiably, worried that it's so lovely people will come and simply stay) so I'd planned to buy a one way ticket out during my 4 hour layover (I'd had plenty of practice the previous week with free cancellations within 24 hours and knew how the system worked) but when I actually landed it was exactly 30 minutes before take off for my next flight and boarding had already closed and my free airport wifi wasn't working and a super kind woman offered to make them hold the plane for me and escort me, at a run, all the way from one side of LAX to the other jumping to the front of every security line along the way… but, unfortunately, as I'd known was going to happen though had neglected to tell the super kind woman, when we were at the check in desk getting my boarding pass my paperwork didn't hold up. Which was a HUGE problem. (You can buy a ticket you have every intention of cancelling if you do it quietly and anonymously online but the rules are just strict enough, justifiably, that you can't actually do so while standing at check in with the plane literally waiting for you.) (Fortunately I have just exactly the right mix of shamelessness (to act innocent and pretend I'd thought by boat papers would be sufficient) and travel savvy (to quickly figure out the only actual workable solution) that I made it, legally, onto my last flight with only a hit to my conscience and not to my checkbook.) And, the travel gods, aware that this fiasco would leave me totally exhausted, took pity on me and provided 4 seats for me to lie down on and have a good nap!
Tahiti, here I come.
PPS I've never actually survived 5 months on a boat. Always before I've left after 3 or 4 months (or been kicked off) so who knows what will happen this time. Occasionally I get to a boat and it's a disaster and I don't stay at all (which might yet happen here). Either way it should be an adventure.
(Maybe I'll post one more entry.)
