Leaving Mirador with the crew...for the first time.

There is a facet of my work that does require my physical presence. I monitor the progress and payments for a construction project. In the past, the project progressed like a Swiss watch, and I would make my site visit once a month, on the first Tuesday of the month, every month. This site visit takes me about four days from the time I step off the boat, with travel and all. It was easy to plan, I just had to be at a marina where I could leave Mirador, Marie and the kids, all tied up and plugged in to power and water.

Eva with some newly made best friends.

Lately, the project has slipped off schedule, and planning a site visit has become as challenging as picking the winning horse at the Kentucky Derby. And so today I find myself having to leave Mirador in beautiful Elizabeth Harbor with nothing to keep her in place but an anchor, with only the water in her tanks and the power in her batteries. Marie and the kids are about as comfortable with this idea as a cat about to be bathed.

We have been anchored in the same spot for a week, the winds have blown in every direction possible as if to test the set of our anchor and it has held tight. The weather reports show no strong winds for the next couple of weeks. I have topped off the water tanks, that's 80 gallons, you can keep an elephant for four days with 80 gallons. I made a loaf of bread, a batch of coconut rice and a pot of Galician Stew, enough food for a week. The other cruisers around us have all stepped up and offered assistance should there be the need. They even said they would keep their VHF radios on all night, that Marie could call if she so needed.

Marie, on the bow of the Mirador.

Yet for the entire week preceding the trip Marie was a nerves wreck. It was alarming to see her go from reluctantly accepting the situation to, "you can't leave me out here", flip-flopping two or three times a day. I thought hard about going to a marina, but the only option was to go back to Emerald Bay. As nice as that marina is, leaving it's comforts is like breaking a bad drug habit, I really didn't want to go through that again.

I kinda stepped back a little and let Marie deal with the inner demons herself. Other than the natural anxiety of being alone, there was no real rational reason to her fear staying with the boat for four days. Marie really connected with the other wives, and their assurance has made all the difference.

The dreaded day came. As the water-taxi arrived to take me to George Town, where a "normal" taxi was waiting to take me to the airport, Marie and I said our good byes, and we parted. It was a lot like dropping a child off on his first day of school.