We took on a bunch of fresh water today, which actually got hand carried down the dock in five gallon cans. We hold 80 gallons in the tank and another 15 on deck; the whopping price was about $20. I felt so bad for making them haul all that weight that I slipped a couple Ballast Point Sculpin IPA's their way.
The tap water in Ensenada (either via hose at the marina or faucet in a business) is brackish, and the idea of loading up a hundred gallons of the stuff and tasting it all the way down the Baja peninsula just wasn't that appealing. It's not quite salt water, but it's also not quite something you'd want to make your tea out of.
Getting ready to go, and having a brief moment of silence after Charlotte and Cora have gone to sleep, I'm reflecting on leaving tomorrow.
Basically every time we get underway, I get a little jittery. I talk myself through the undocking procedures. Which way will the stern kick out? Can I spring off something? Will the bowsprit rails nail a pylon? What happens if everything goes sideways and I'm totally screwed?
I look at the boat. I think of every repair and installation that I've done and wonder: will it hold? What about the things that I haven't addressed yet. Some I know about, some I don't.
Brian Toss said that there are three types of sailors: dead, novices, and pessimists. Indeed one can argue that a core aspect of seamanship is scrutinizing everything in sight, believing everything will fail in ways you can hardly imagine, then drafting up solutions. These solutions usually highlight a missing tool or skill, which you quickly add to your arsenal.
The balancing force, I suppose, is that you can always come up with reasons not to do something. And with a boat, with the hundreds or thousands of fittings and doo-dads, there is always something that needs attention.
If paralyzing over-analysis is on one side of the coin, a deep husky voice telling you to shit-or-get-off-the-pot is on the other.
If I was smoking hash on a mountain top somewhere (which would be great, by the way) I think I would arrive at the notion that you need to use your pessimism and doubt as helpful voices that point out problems. What they can't be, and what they always want to be, are the final decision makers.
Goethe said, "Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative, there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too."
So, we leave tomorrow.