Swingin’ on a (Gulf)Star

To get to Habibi, you must pass Enchantment, Namaste, Alley Cat, and Go Dog Go! Every single time I return to her — from swimming or grocery shopping or marina business — I grin, relieved she’s still floating, amazed that she’s mine.

Yep, it’s dawning on me that, after 42 years of searching, I finally have a home of my own. Happiness creeps up on me between panic attacks. Why panic? Oh, let me count the ways! Am I harming her when I scrape off — holy Moses! the encrustation! — barnacles? Sometimes the black bottom paint is also scraped off to reveal patches of Mary blue. Which, as the daughter of a Pagan Catholic, might be okay. Is faint white smoke from the old diesel engine par for the course or a catastrophe? How full is the water tank? the fuel tank? There seems to be no way of knowing. Will melted surf wax harm Habibi’s gelcoat? And what about rust? And the big worry, accompanied by video and audio from Titanic and Poseidon Adventure: are we sinking? (No.)

I want to be someone who says confidently, Yeah! I can do that! But mostly I am not. Anxiety provides a multitude of reasons why not. And so, despite my love of water, I am a cautious swimmer, a cautious surfer, and now a cautious sailor. But I knew where the raw water impeller was, despite the faulty manual, and cleaned it. Now the engine runs slightly cooler. And for some reason I checked under the galley sink and, yes, there was a leak. Which I fixed. I can trust my instincts. 

And my instincts told me to slow down as I angled toward the dock. It was windy, and while practicing in the lagoon I noticed increased momentum, even in neutral. During the first pass, the wind blows me toward the concrete seawall. Nope, not happening. Back through the channel, turn around, try again. Ha. Now we’re good. I am close enough and slow enough (barely moving) to jump off with a dock line. Cleat you, sir! 

Yeah, people dock every day, no big deal. But it is a big deal for me. Huge. I did something I was afraid of: docking in the wind, when the potential for crashing is greater. Why is it so satisfying to rise to challenges? Why not sit on the boat and drink whiskey all day? But it is satisfying, extremely so. I walk around afterward with a wide smile. I swagger. I say NO more easily. And my skills are improving daily. So here she is again: Happiness.