Monday, September 17, 2007

So I Hear You're Going to Cuba?

I was in the 'cellar', reassembling the hose from my fuel tank, when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. It was Nancy, asking if I was interested in coming over to her and Paul's for a jam session. I had been neglecting my smallpipes for quite some time now, so I jumped at the opportunity.

As the car came to a stop in the driveway, I realized the actual reason of my visit, as we were greeted by one who was to become the third member of our crew.

Having arrived in Lunenburg 2 months ago, Nancy and Paul were doing her a favour by giving her a roof over her head, but everyone knew it was time for her to move on. Never having sailed before, a few things were going through my mind. With no experience on a boat, you cannot know issues regarding seasickness, or their ability to deal with rough weather or other precarious situations. Everyone must start somewhere though, and I decided to go out on a bit of a limb and give her this chance to prove her capabilities.

Her curiosity about every last inch of the boat kept me up all night, she had to know every little detail. What's in there? What does this do? Is it always this cold? Can I have that blanket? Where's my bunk? She does tend to talk a lot, which I guess will be alright, as I myself am a woman of few words.

I know myself what I am looking for in a crew, and I've had many people approach me in recent days, having heard rumors of available bunks to Cuba through the grapevine. I have declined all offers thus far, because I know that certain 'feeling' that should be there, that instant rapport that cannot be explained, but can be easily recognized by its absence. Tom B. has got it, and so has my new recruit.

Le purrrrrrrrrr