One Step Closer

September 9, 2013

Oceanside is the first place we are visiting that is a complete unknown for me. I haven’€™t been here by boat or by car. So now I feel one step closer to cruising.

Like Dana Point, it is a very popular harbor. It is completely full and it is my understanding that there is a waiting list for people who want to dock their boats here. But unlike Dana Point, Oceanside feels laid back and casual.

The people here have been so friendly. From Joe, our dock neighbor, who welcomed us and helped us dock, to Dave the Port Captain from Oceanside Yacht Club (OYC), to Buzz who just happened by on his kayak and ended up spending a half hour just chatting about boats and sailing south. But where are the women? They are hovering in the background, I see them. Trouble is, I haven€™t heard from them. Not sure what is up with that but they certainly aren’€™t like our outgoing ladies in Channel Islands Marina.

We spent the first evening at OYC, enjoying a salmon dinner and conversation that inevitably led to Mexico. Dave introduced us around and made sure we connected with fellow sailors that have made the journey previously. It was a fun night filled with good information.

Walking has fast become the mode of transportation since we don’€™t have a car or bikes. The dinghy and kayaks are fun but a good vertical stretch is much needed when one lives on a boat.

Train tracks lie not far from the marina. When I hear the train go by, I go back in time and am reminded of my father. Dad used to tell me that as a little boy he would listen for the train and long to go with it and travel to faraway places. Eventually he did, as our family seemed to move every nine months or so. Dad was always looking for that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Sometimes he found it and sometimes not.

I must admit, for the longest time I felt our moving so often was a terrible thing. And it was difficult and lonely. I was always the new girl in school. But in hindsight, I am grateful too that through our travels, through our ups and downs, Dad taught me tolerance and acceptance of all peoples; white or black, rich or poor, strong or feeble. I suppose I should thank him for my wanderlust too – and the ability to shift easily with the wind. All those years of influence and practice have led me to here. Both a blessing in this new life I am living.

I miss my father, but I feel his spirit with me – every step of the way.