Post #92: Home is Where the Toothpaste Is

November 18, 2021 to November 22, 2021

Unlike last year, we had an uneventful trip from New Smyrna southward. (To relive my Afternoon of Terror feel free to reread Post #47. Or not.) To reach the Indian River from Mosquito Lagoon, boats must take the Haulover Canal. I thought that the name might be somehow related to the Kennedy Space Center and the nearby NASA railroad bridge, as in “hauling over” important stuff to make rockets and spaceships, etc.  But according to the state historical marker, my lense on history is woefully myopic.

“Native Americans, explorers and settlers hauled or carried canoes and small boats over this narrow strip of land between Mosquito Lagoon and the Indian River.  Eventually it became known as the “haulover”…Early settlers used rollers and skids to drag schooners across.” 

The first canal was dug with enslaved labor in 1852 and was used during the Third Seminole War.  Steamboat and cargo ships continued to use the canal until the railroad arrived in 1885.  Fortunately, over time a second canal was dredged and it has been widened, deepened, and is now maintained by the Army Corps of Engineers so we just slowly motored on through, mesmerized by the graceful flight of pelicans (captured here in slow motion—since my 8-year old grandson Dillon showed me how).

Coming into the Cocoa Village Marina felt like coming “home,” a word that has changed location eleven times for us in the past eight months! The staff welcomed us back with cheery hellos and directed us to the slip that Onward would occupy until January 2022.

I had hoped that with Covid a bit more under control (or so it seemed at the time) we’d hang out at Cocoa Beach, try some new restaurants, and visit the Kennedy Space Center but those were not top priority items on the list (pout, pout). Instead, first order of business was to get our booster shots, then laundry, then figure out what clothing and other items we needed to get off the boat and take back to DC, then prep the boat to stay securely at the marina for 6 weeks. The first two items were straightforward, the next two, not so easy.

Last October we brought our belongings back onto the boat in our (not)matching luggage set of reusable grocery bags and L.L. Bean totes as there is no place to store hard-sided suitcases onboard. However, none one of these would work as checked baggage so I searched online to find two duffel bags that would be strong enough, big enough, yet small enough to fold up for storing on the boat come January. Now you KNOW that, of course, we owned two such duffel bags already—but they were in our storage unit in Boston.  This would become a theme over the next 6 weeks.

Then came the lists of what to take “home,” i.e., DC, then Boston and back to DC. At this point we didn’t know if our renters would be staying in our condo for the second semester so we didn’t know if we could even bring items back there or would need to stuff them in our storage unit.

We did know we’d be staying in an almost-unfurnished house in DC between Thanksgiving and New Year’s and would need to bring some basic kitchenware, fall and winter clothing, and anything we needed to get off the boat.  A bit of explanation:  we spent the early summer and early fall living with Sarah.  But a high school friend landed a job as John Kerry’s speech writer and so she rented out her second bedroom beginning in mid-September. Fortunately for us, another of her high school friends, the Middle East editor for a news magazine, had recently purchased a home in DC but was still in Beirut with his wife and toddler son awaiting their visas.  They needed someone to live in their empty house and we needed a place to live. 

So last fall, pretending to be 25-years-old again (but with deeper pockets, thank goodness), we headed to IKEA and bought a bed, a mattress, two $15 bedside tables, and brought everything that had come off the boat in May—kitchenware, bedding, clothing, etc. to our next “home away from home.”  This worked really well and when we left Annapolis in October, we simply moved our belongings back onto the boat again. When we returned in late November, we made another trip to IKEA for a couch, borrowed some pots and pans, and scored a free TV from a neighbor.  Boy, those lessons learned freshman year in Scrounging 101 certainly came in handy!

Here’s David trying to stuff the couch into our SUV and then later enjoying the fruits of his labor:

So you might think that our life has been an endless adventure exploring the Eastern seaboard and the Bahamas but for the past few months, it’s actually been an exercise in schlepping around our stuff! (And, by the way, I’m still looking for my sneakers and can’t find my snorkel. Any ideas???)

Back to leaving the boat in Cocoa. David spent days prepping Onward: changing oil, replacing fittings, filling up the water, propane, and fuel tanks, ordering more spare parts, securing the boat to the docks with eight lines and multiple fenders, and closing all the through-hulls. Through-hulls are just that—holes in the hull of the boat. And we have 13 of them. WHAT?? They can be opened or closed with seacock valves similar to the way you can shut off the water in your home at the pipe, for example. Through-hulls are the conduits for sea water to circulate and cool our diesel engine, generator, and air conditioner/heating units; and for water from the sinks and bilge to drain out as well as other waste if necessary. But as you can imagine, we wanted all of the seacocks securely closed while we were away from Onward for 6 weeks to avoid any possibility of unwanted seawater taking up residency without our knowledge.

Finally, it was time to take an Uber to Orlando and fly back “home.”