No Trouble

Trouble’s gone. After a week anchored nearby, the blue-striped sailboat was gone when I got up this morning. Huzzah! (Boat names are sometimes quite direct. Best to pay attention.)

I contacted another instructor when Anxiety refused to let me sail solo. “Knowing you can sail is different from hoping you can,” she pointed out in the wee hours, so lessons have commenced again. The first one was actually fun. No yelling, leering, or condescension. Instead I tacked a zigzag across the water, watching out for tankers and pangas, and handling the lines myself.

Practice practice practice is the way to Peru. So I do: playing with Habibi, harnessing the wind. Unfurl one sail, hoist another. What happens? Why? How can I replicate it, or not? 

With enough time and space and quiet, I can figure most things out. For example, the anchoring system. Not “terribly dangerous,” as someone said. The lock likes to flip down when I’m dropping anchor; the chain pulls it closed and everything stops. Not so great in twelve knots of wind, let me tell you. So I tied it in such a way that it will stay flipped open when I want, and close when that’s called for. A little thing. A piece of string. Complete satisfaction when it worked. No trouble.