Trickster Trip

We’re in Niagara-on-the-Lake, and it’s been a helluva time getting here.

We left Hamilton on the 15^th on our sailboat Trickster, expecting to arrive that night.

But we’ve endured high winds, a loose shroud and torn sails, and sputtering and stalling engine. We’ve run aground and got our jib line tangled in our propeller. We’ve been rescued by the Coast Guard and chased out of Smuggler’s Cove. And we spent a night bouncing around off an anchored buoy in the mouth of the Niagara river, and spent a night dodging visions of coming loose and wakening as we hurtled over the Falls. (It was pointed out to me that this fate was impossible, as Niagara-on-the-Lake is down river of the Falls. Embarrassing.)

And now we have to turn around and try to make it home without drowning!

And it’s been a WONDERFUL trip!

My Bardzo often teases me about being boring, and with good reason. These days I’m generally happy with my books and lps, Netflix and NPR, and the odd bike ride and takeout from Popeye’s.

She, on the other hand, can be accused of being the antidote to boredom! Meaning, interesting things always happen when I hang out with My Bardzo. And it’s been just that kind of trip. So full of the unexpected. One of those reminders of the incredible richness of the world and of simply being alive and in it.

We’ve spent the nights in beautiful spots, have had wonderful meals on the boat, laugh about Mawa, our cat, waking us every night with her squawking and squalling, have met a handful of really nice, helpful boaters, have enjoyed having electricity, thanks to our newly added solar panel, and even the motor, as tempermental as it’s been, has always come through strong when needed. And the job of diving under the boat, to cut and clear the tangled line was both easy and provided a huge boost of confidence, and plenty of story material for years to come.

It's actually been an intention of mine these last weeks, to consciously feel all of my feelings, especially the fears. Reaching my late sixties has me wanting to prepare for a healthy death. And it's been said - and I believe it - that one of the best ways to gift oneself peace during one's last years is to meditate on death. And this trip has given me more than one premonition of dying, and with them a very clear-eyed appreciation of whatever the circumstances were at the moment. Even with the motor unresponsive and our sails down, and a strong offshore wind of 20 knots pushing us out onto Lake Ontario as dusk approached, the sky and clouds and light were God's gift beautiful. And then, when death doesn't happen...!?