The primrose path refers to a life of ease and pleasure, or to a course of action that seems easy and appropriate but can actually end in calamity.
We arose early. I showered while my Better Half cooked pancakes and CoastieGuy made sure the repairs had held overnight. We talked about taking the boat out just once, for a little while, before Dad and I left. I was extremely excited to do this because I felt that leaving the dock, even for 5 minutes, would make this trip seem just a tiny bit worthwhile and I wouldn’t feel quite so horribly depressed about the whole endeavor.
We ate breakfast but I had neglected to provide the coffee-drinkers of the group with adequate coffee (I ran out of the fancy Starbucks instant thingies that cost $2 each). CoastieGuy drove to the store to get more. When he came back he came bearing a jar of instant Folgers and a story about someone who had “seen the boat and wanted to make an offer of $200k for it”. In that second I knew I was hopeless because my initial reaction was “no!” It was a joke, of course, and then I felt even more stupid.
Through a series of circumstances we were not able to take our boat off the dock. I was bitterly disappointed. This entire miserable thing was for nothing.
Dad and I drove the three hours back to the airport. I was tired, cranky and discouraged. We left behind CoastieGuy and my Better Half who were going to continue to fix the leaks for one more day until CoastieGuy had to leave (here’s a big, bloggy hug for Mrs. CoastieGuy; thanks for sharing your man with us! We absolutely would have been lost and possibly sunk without him…). My Better Half had another week before he had to be back at work. In that time we would surely find a way to bring the boat up, right?
I must have looked pretty wrecked on the airplane because the man sitting next to me showed me the Discovery Chanel Sharkweek video 10 times and bought me a drink in order to cheer me up. The drink worked wonders though I managed to spill a quarter of it on myself. It was a first for me…
AllesGirl and HerSpouse picked me up from the airport, bought me Vietnamese pho, and brought me back to warm embrace of The Commune. Thank God for them, I was a Basket-case of jangled nerves and I barely managed to make it through the airport on my own.
It was so nice to be back in civilization but all I could think of was my Better Half and our floating home…
That was day 4.
Sailing Devilfish 