A long drought...

The paint job is final, the prop and shaft are in, thru hulls have been checked and we now have steering. We're definitely down to the short list of things that need to be accomplished before we launch her in two weeks.

To sit at the wheel and imagine her under sail, on a port tack, was almost as exhilerating as it will be when we actually get to sail her one day.

Plans are being made for the day when Epilogue will touch water for the first time in over 5 years. Even though she will be without a mast, without sails, without an engine and without rigging, she'll get to feel the water again and dream of quitting the shore for distant waters.

I have not allowed myself time to sit much lately. I guess if I keep moving at least I feel like I'm making a dent in the mountain of things that have to happen. It's like when I'm working on the boat. Sometimes I can't figure out what to do next so I just clean up and vacuum like a madman. At least I feel like I'm doing something worthwhile.

Today I installed the thru-hull fitting for the galley, bedded in a new window, installed the center cockpit drains and prepped the transom for its 4th and hopefully final coat of paint. All in all, a very good day's work.

So the sun is setting and I'm sitting in my big leather chair feeling more at peace than I have in a while. I'm a little ashamed really. I knew long ago that taking time to sit and "mine" ore of the thoughts in my head and the events of the day was vital to my life. I have no idea why I haven't done this lately.

If this boat project is going to continue, I must find a way to stay alive and present to my life and taking time to sit in this chair is perhaps the most generous thing I can do for myelf.

November 4th is launch day. We will then tow Epilogue down to Seattle where she will stay at Fisherman's Terminal - less than two miles from my house. It'll be nice to have her buttoned up for the winter, take some time off and start chipping away at the interior. Plumbing, electrical, mechanical and finish.

for now at least...

Once again, this boat that breaks my heart every day, just keeps getting more beautiful. It's slow and painstaking but the blood sweat and tears somehow turn into something rather unexpected.

So I continue. Very much aware of all the other areas of my life that suffer and wait, neglected in the cold. Most of these areas can wait another year, I think. Some of them, however, can't and I am saddened. I suppose one area is my love of the time to sit in my leather chair and read until I fall asleep or become inspired to get up and coax some words out of my head. Those times are quite rare indeed. My chair and my books look at me with a mix of longing and disdain, knowing they will again be left without so much as a glance their way.

I will continue...for now at least.

...help my unbelief

There is no other way to describe where I am in this process except rife with anxiety. The unfortunate coalescence of the chage of seasons and my penchant for broodery and rumination has manifested an upheaval of anxiety and depression that visit like the uninvited guests they always are. It's when every possible worst case scenario is gospel truth, hope fades and dreams become foolish pipe-dreams. In the past, these guest's visits would last only a few hours or days. However, the older I get, the more they take liberties.

Getting Epilogue painted has been the time/weather sensitive goal for weeks and we finally set up to spray the paint this weekend. I got up at 4:00am (my alarm was set for 4:40)and made my way up to the boat. From the begining, the stars were aligned (or God smiled, whichever you believe), the day held no pesky dew, no wind, and no unwelcomed visits from the Department of Enviornmental Quality to critique our methods. All of my assumptions about how that day would go were dashed and things went, for the most part, without a hitch.

There are flaws, there are bugs stuck in polyurethane for good, there are areas that will need touch up, there are spots I messed up and there are places only I will see and keep to myself as much as I can.

A friend once lamented my acquisition of this boat by saying, "she will be like a woman who leaves you over and over again and breaks your heart each time" While I scoffed initially, I'm begining to agree with him. Though each day I head up there, in pursuit of her wayward heart, she lures me in again with her wiles. This new paint job will (hopefully) lure me in like sailor to the sirens, unable to quit her despite the costs.