It's been fun, it's been sad, it's been (mostly) natural.

I bet you thought I forgot. But I didn't. Today, finally, the Turtle People "closed out" nest #71, also known as My Nest. There were 72 nests on the island of Holden Beach this year, so mine was one of the last ones laid. Unfortunately for me, the turtles, and all the people involved, it was laid very late in the season, and there wasn't enough warmth in the sand to properly incubate the eggs. None of them hatched naturally, despite all the time and energy and good thoughts beamed their way by the humans watching over them, this last month. A few were removed from the nest and taken to the new turtle hospital up the coast, where they'll be allowed to develop a bit more and then will be taken, by boat, directly to the Gulf Stream, where they'd naturally be headed from here. There they'll get a free ride in the warm currents flowing South to wherever it is they'd normally spend the winter. I'm hoping they make it to adulthood, and if they aren't too bamboozled by all the detours in their childhood, come back to nest here on the island-- some time in June or July, when it's nice and warm.

 I hope to be right here, watching for them!

ps-- No, I didn't take that brilliant baby picture. Mine weren't that cute!!

Honor, Joy, Wonder.

 Last night I had the opportunity to witness one of the most amazing things-- and if were to wait until I could think of all the cool, writerly words I need to describe it, it would never be recorded. It was around 10:15 last night, a time when I'm not usually up and functioning. I decided that, since I was conscious, it would be nice to walk over to the beach and visit my ocean. The beach is about a minute walk from our place. Maybe less. When I got there, I paused, as I always do, at the end of the short walkway, to survey the "big picture" before going down the steps to the sand. The moon was full. Scanning the  water, as I always do, I saw, about 25 yards in front of me and a little to my left, a very large round, what? My first thought was turtle, because I'm always looking for them. Driftwood, I thought, but strangely round. Dead body? Sorry, but I did think that. Knowing I was going to go check it out, I stood a moment more and watched. And as I watched, I saw that it was moving on its own, not just getting washed in with the surf. A turtle. A female loggerhead, about 3 1/2 feet long, 3 feet wide, 250-300 lbs., was making her slow way onto the beach to lay her eggs. Under a full moon, on an empty beach. Oh my gosh.
I was transfixed, and really just beginning to believe my eyes. But I knew I had to share this with Bob (who better never stay home again when I invite him for a walk on the beach), so I streaked back to our apartment, and yelled up to him through the open windows to come quick. Then I ran back and fortunately, turtles being turtles, I hadn't missed much--she was only a few feet further than she'd been when I left her-- just a few feet out of the water. We watched her slow, arduous, determined journey from the surf to the dunes, full of awe at the sight.

She came up into the dunes at the exact spot of another nest--possibly her own-- they lay several a season. This other nest is staked out and ready for the baby turtles to make their way to the ocean. The "Turtle Patrol" people make a sort of runway for them, and this year, they've added a protective barrier down the runway. Our mother turtle was having a bit of trouble with the stakes around that other nest, kind of slowly ramming into them, and it looked like she could easily get tangled in the protective stuff, so we chickened out and called the Turtle Patrol. Had to call 911 to ask them to relay the message, which they were fine with doing. A cop showed up first. Funny. But no fire engines, thankfully. The Turtle Patrol came eventually, and after that it was a public experience. Still awesome though. She didn't need any intervention as it turned out-- she laid the eggs right next to the runway for the other babies. We got to see her dig the hole (about 2 feet deep, slowly, lots of resting in between, sand flying high on every magnificent sweep of the flippers), and lay the eggs ( she would be still for a while, and then she would kind of rise up in the air-- another egg dropping).  I guess there were about 30 people gathered by the time she laid the eggs and made it safely back to the ocean, and they were quiet and gave her space. 

The less prosaic part: Next morning, the Turtle Patrol dug up the nest and moved it about 10 feet higher into the dunes. But I got to see the eggs, as originally laid, before they moved them, which was cool. The hatch rate for moved nests (safely above the high tide line) is better than for natural nests-- that's why they move them if they're not in an ideal spot. This spot was debatably fine, but whatever. Not my call. My turtle, but not my call. :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The nest, before moving of the eggs.

Removing the eggs

Typical egg. They're pale pink, about the size of a ping-pong ball, and sort of leathery, as opposed to rigid, so that dent in the top is fine.

The "new" nest.

That's the nest, directly behind the sign. It says "Here lie the eggs from Suzy's turtle, resting and growing until her birthday, when they'll come out and do a little dance before they head out into the ocean."

I didn't have my phone or a camera with me during most of this, which was fine. It was good to just "be there." But I did go back last night to take pics of the tracks, before they disappeared. I've always wanted to be able to see at least the track of a mother turtle who had come up onto the beach-- I never thought I'd be lucky enough to see one make that track. The faint white line at the top is the surf.

        

I hope I can always remember the sight of that huge animal first coming out of the surf onto the sand. Just her, me, and the moon. What an amazing experience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ahoy, fellow landlubbers!

Here's the latest:


We've moved off Trio in order to make her ready for her new (yet-to-be-determined) owners. We continue to work on her-- there is no end to this; there are always more improvements that can be made-- and I hope that someone buys her soon, so we can stop. We've had prospective buyers from all over-- Colorado (they went to Florida first though, on their boat-buying trip to the East, and unfortunately for us, found what they were looking for there.) And a couple from the Caribbean somewhere; they found their boat on the way here as well. Next up is a couple from Texas, and then two men-- one from France, one Italian. I fear the Texans have already heard of Florida, and will go the way of the others. That leaves us with the Europeans, and the need to convince them somehow that Holden Beach, NC is the Gateway to America. At the very least the Boat-Buying Capital of the East. 10% off sale? Free anchor with every test-sail? Submit ideas, please. 

Meanwhile, we have moved into the Greatest Little House on Holden Beach-- situated directly across the street from the Big Blue Sea itself, with views of same, and a pedestrian access to the warm sandy beach about thirty seconds away. It's teeny-tiny-- the place, that is-- one room plus bathroom above a two-car garage with a deck. I am in heaven. A real kitchen, (well, it would be considered real in New York City). A real shower (though so narrow, if you drop the soap, you must pick it up, carefully, with your foot). There's a washer and dryer in the garage below though, for our use, and a barbecue as well! And here's the kicker-- this place costs a mere $25 a month more THAN THE ROACH-AND MILDEW INFESTED HELL-HOLE OF A TRAILER WE LIVED IN FOR THREE YEARS. Not that this one was available then, so no grieving over the past. Just fun, fun fun. Smelling salt air, watching the ocean through storms, walking every day on the beach. I am a happy girl. And Bob likes it too! Yay! Now when people ask us about the new boat (the trawler, still residing in a boatyard an hour and a half North of here), I think What boat? I would be happy to stay here forever. But I need to sell a book or something, if we're going to do that. Or a boat. Something. 

More happy news: On April 27, Kai will marry the love of his life, the beautiful Merry. The wedding will be small but still requires most of the normal details, the vast majority of which do not fall to me. I am left with mostly the very self-centered and therefore completely enjoyable task of fitting myself out with new clothes. This is a mostly guilt-free task, as well, since my “wardrobe,” of late years, has been comprised of about 80% painted-on, epoxied-on work clothes (the kind that look filthy even when they're not), and 20% items that are between 10 and 30 years old, and look it. So I took to the internet and ordered scads of things. When they arrived, I tried them on and looked at them in my wavy funhouse mirror and then sent many of them back, free shipping, but kept a few.  As style adviser, I had my friend Valerie—we started our friendship together as terrible twos, living across from each other on a quiet street in Springfield, PA. She lives in California now, so we went shopping together on the phone, with laptops open in front of us, visiting websites simultaneously, despite the three hour difference! Sometimes we'd lose each other, though (now wait-- are you on page 5 or page 6?? Get back here! I found something I like on page 5!). No different than having to go searching for her amongst the racks in a boutique, dragging along my newest find. Hmm. Boutique. I like the word, but am not really sure I've ever been in one. But the coast-to-coast shopping? Scads o' fun. Especially when one MUST BUY CLOTHES!

 Odds and ends: I had a little garden, for a month or so, in the boatyard, but it has since been demolished by overzealous new owners. Why they thought a garden did not belong in a boatyard I'll never know. On a happier note, literally, I am singing again, which is a great joy (to me at least!), in a local church choir. It's a new group, so I'm in on the ground floor-- not as much of a newcomer as I usually am. Also, speaking of being a newcomer, I've started to attend (Free!) yoga classes twice a week held at another church, this one a short walk from the aforementioned what-could-be-better residence. I have missed singing, and I have missed Yoga, so both are wonderful to have back in my life. I have not missed Pilates, but that's on Fridays, and also free, at the same place, and I'm starting to like that as well!


So yeah, we're still poor, still working hard, though admittedly not as hard lately as some times in the past. Having more fun, still planning to some day get Trio sold and Serendipity all spiffy and shiny and ready to travel. Then we'll have to see if I can tear myself away from my happy place. I, for one, am not worrying about it. 

Trio getting all gussied up.

Home Sweet Home (the top part only!)

Zee View.  

Bob on the beach! Pelicans doing the pretty air show.

          

Course Adjustment

Okay. Well. You know how I named this blog “Not Sure Yet?” Because I wasn't sure yet about this sailing thing? Well, that turns out to have been a good move. The move that was maybe not so good was buying a sailboat in the first place. But, as Kai used to say when he was little, “at's otay!” And it is. Live and learn, and all that.  

So here's what we've done, and what we're doing. We're putting Trio up for sale. She is a big strong beautiful ocean-going SAILING boat, and she should be out on the ocean, with her sails up. We put her in the water in early April, and we have not done this yet. We have lots of excuses, but I'm not going to bore you with them. Bottom line: we are not sailors. 

We do, however, like living on the water. So we've bought another boat! Of course! She's a trawler, built on the model of a fishing boat. A little shorter than Trio at 40 feet, and a good bit wider. I have been knowing, for several years now, that a trawler is what we should have bought in the first place, so I've been paying attention. And this one has the kind of layout that I like. Lots of windows, lots of light, a nice (relatively) big galley area, room for a love seat even and a chair! There are two berths and two heads, each with separate showers. The master head even has a tub. Not a sit-up tub, either. A lie-down tub! There are two Perkins 6-cyl. diesel engines, only 160 hp each, so fuel consumption should be not too bad. There is a flybridge, so that the boat can be driven from up above, or, in bad weather, from inside the living area. There's plenty of outdoor flat space for table, chairs, a hammock, fun. Plenty of room for storage as well, and in none of it do we have to put those troublesome sails!

 This boat is a “project.” Of course. But we got her for very little money, as boats go, and if we can fix her up for not too much more, and sell Trio for what she's worth, that will be good. Especially since the marina where we have lived lo these many years and where we plan to be working on the new boat is under new management and Bob has been forbidden to do any more work here until he gets Workman's Comp. We're not sure why Workman's Comp, when he has no employees, but that's the statement. Whatever. We'll concentrate on getting the heck out of here. On this boat we can safely mosey down the waterway to South Carolina, Florida, the Keys, the Bahamas, and we can do it long after we can actually see the channel markers. Just kidding. If we go blind, we'll park her and stay in one place. A pretty place of course.

The work the boat needs is (oh, God I hope) mostly cosmetic---- okay, deep cosmetic, as in replacement of windows, interior wall coverings, etc. There is nothing beautiful, right now, about the inside of this boat. So we can rip and tear and replace in great swaths. No fussy working in and around stanchions, chainplates, nice teak, etc. Very different than Trio, and I hope much quicker. 

This is what I want you to know: I am excited about making this boat our home. I have no regrets about selling Trio. I think Bob feels the same way, though he's not thrilled with this moment-- the one where we own two boats, with all the attendant expenses and worries. But “at's otay!” We'll be fine.

Know anyone who wants to buy a 44' Kelly-Peterson sailboat? She's beautiful, and she's ready to go! Now here's "Serendipity." (It's the name she came with-- we're still pondering it. On the one hand I think boats, once named, should stay named. On the other, well, this name makes me think of old Disney movies-- zippity doo-dah, bibbity bobbity boo. That sort of thing. It could be worse.

I was going to put more pictures in, but honestly, I scared myself just going through them. We have work to do!!