With Colorado again on the other side of the western horizon, the Bosun and I return to the boat. Pluses? It feels great to be back on her. The marina has donned its festive holiday-lights attire. I get to have my third temporary crown of the fall swapped out for a permanent one tomorrow; hopefully, that change will end what can only be called The Great Tooth Discomfort.
The cons? Coming back to a boat isn’t quite like getting “home.” It’s as though boats wait for their residents, hiding ... ready to jump out and surprise their inhabitants as soon as those inhabitants step back on the dock. In our case, the jumping out has involved presentation of a dinghy full of rainwater. In our haste to depart, we did not hoist the dingy out of the water or raise her bow to allow rainwater to drain out of her in our absence. So she greets us with gallons of water and a floating fuel tank.
The Bosun gallantly rolls up his pants and sheds his shoes, climbing into the little rubber boat to bail her out, allowing me to go below with my cantankerous tooth and concomitant head pain. (The Bosun being the Bosun, he also checks the oil.)
Overflowing mini-boats aside, though, it feels great to be home. Our dock holds the promise of a fun dinner gathering this week, and we have a bit of Greek philosophy to discuss, with a little book-club meeting in the hopper. Books and boats really do make the best combination.