I Lost My Girl…Temporarily

Fort Lauderdale – 5 kilometres walked, 10 metres swam

The whole crew was up early and bolted into action with a flurry of grapefruit squirts, toast crumbs, showers, hair drying, wet towels, coffee splashes, flight checking, Uber booking, and last-minute packing. I had Ana and Tony to shore minutes before the Uber arrived. I hugged Tony and knew it wouldn’t be long before I saw him again. And my girl? Well, I hugged her and kissed her then hugged her again, told I that I loved her, and asked her to give the kids a hug and kiss from me and that I’d be here for them when they all returned in a week.

And with that, I was alone.

To get me started, I went for a walk to the beach, despite the unstable weather and cells of rainstorms passing through southern Florida. I wore my tractionless flip flops with Teflon tread, and halfway across the bridge I slipped on a section of shiny steel and nearly flip flopped onto my arse. In the past, this sort of thing could have tweaked my lower back and taken me out of action for months, but my back is in much better shape these days so I escaped unharmed.

My plans for a swim were thwarted by six-foot swells blown up by the strong easterly wind so instead I walked down the beach and was mostly alone. It started to rain heavily but since I was wearing a swimsuit, singlet, and carried only a towel, it didn’t bother me; in fact, I enjoyed it. Rain doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t damage your clothes. Yet whenever rain starts to fall, people race for cover as if there are fireballs plummeting from the sky. Today, I walked slow, slicked my hair back, wiped the water from my eyes, and watched the rain clean the palm leaves, the clay tile roofs, the spilled beer and French fry ketchup from the sidewalks, the iguana poo from their perching spots on the concrete walls, the dusty stucco walls on buildings, condo balconies, and all the grit and shit on the streets, washing it all away in a natural flush-down. It had been a while since we’ve seen a proper rain shower, so perhaps I appreciated it more than normal.

As I was climbing up onto SeaLight my terrible footwear again gave out and I did a slow motion fall onto the swim platform then onto the dinghy, narrowly avoiding a plunge into the ocean. Again, no injuries, but I took the hint from the cosmos and made a note to toss them in the garbage bin next time I went to shore. 

Ana and I do not spent much time apart, so whenever it happens I feel lost. It takes some time to adjust to not having her so I knew today was going to be weird. I believe that absence does make the heart grow fonder so short breaks are not a bad thing (and I was already excited at the thought of seeing her again in a week), but it did mean I would have a lot of hours to fill. Hence, once back inside the boat I wrote a list of daily goals on the back of the Cruising World magazine Tony left behind, December 2024 edition:

1. Write

2. Exercise

3. Practice ukulele

4. Read

5. 1 Boat job

I felt better with a plan, but still loitered around the boat for a while, ill at ease, restless, and purposeless. I cleaned a bit (to bachelor's standard; not Ana's), watched some tv, checked my fuel log, ate a four-day-old Walhburger I found hiding in the fridge behind the salsa, made some other lists, listened to music, and sometimes just stood there looking out the window. By early afternoon the storms had passed so I got the hell out of the boat and returned to the beach for that swim I was looking for, and by then the calmer water and hot sands were full of people. I had my swim then walked the beach for a long time and found a washing station so had a nice fresh water rinse then went across the street to Bo’s Beach Bar in search of wifi. Until now Ana had been sharing her voluptuous data plan with me via a hotspot connection so I was able to post journals and photos with abandon. My own data plan is not voluptuous; it is pale, thin, and weakly.

Well, Bo’s 24-ounce American lager special was pretty good, but the wifi did not work. So I got some writing time in, but was unable to post anything. My search will continue; only 37 bars left on Fort Lauderdale Beach Boulevard to test out. 

I wandered back to the boat late in the afternoon with an uncomfortable number of hours yet to consume. I read a book as I lounged in the sun-warmed cockpit, made myself a pretty decent guacamole for dinner, practiced ukulele until my fingers were sore, had a ninety minute call with the Newport Tech Committee, then watched some tv until shortly after Mariner’s Midnight.

Made it through my first day without my girl.