Water gently laps the sides of the boat as a duck laughs a quacky chuckle in the water just below where I sit to write today on the aft deck. It sounds so much like a real laugh it becomes infectious and I can't help but hang my upper body over the rail to see what's so funny. I am inspired to grab my camera and take a photo of the silky green mallard that is now wriggling and bathing itself in the salty water below. I have never been much of a fan of birds except, for some reason, in my yacht work life. I guess it is because they become a kind of friend and a neighbor of sorts, co-existing with their own little type of conversation. If you listen carefully enough, you can catch it. I can hear the cries of the seagulls in the mornings as the sun rises, reminding me it is time to get up and raise the flag. The ducks splash and roll around in the mid-day sun as I leave the marina to go to the fish market. Two pelicans perch at the top of the dock like the gatekeepers to the neighborhood and those damn herons stand like sentinals behind the pylons in the evening shadows. They seem almost as tall as I am, silent and thin, waiting till I am only a couple feet away to scare the pee out of me as they burst into flight with a loud pterodactyl-like squawk into the night. I am cautioned, warned to always be on my guard, even in the silent evening swaying of the dock when all feels safe and sound. Each and every type with its unique personality representing a kind of neighbor I once had. The Seagulls are the assholes of the neighborhood. They're intrusive, loud, leave their crap all over the place, and beat up on...and sometimes eat...the other birds around. I once bought a slingshot to try to take a few out years ago. I quickly gave that idea up when I missed and hit a neighboring sailboat, causing a small dent on their bow. Ducks are the neighbors that are into family and social gatherings. They get together in the same places most days and tend to stick together in an orderly fashion. The larger birds remind me of skittish homeless people, hanging around garbage cans while keeping a constant paranoid sideways glance at any approaching danger. Perhaps because of their size, they see themselves an easy target. Maybe they think they're fat and ugly and are insecure. Whatever the case may be, it is not as easy to get close to a Heron or a Pelican as it is to get to a duck or a seagull. But fascinating nonetheless. Enough about birds already.
It is Wednesday, the "Sunday" of my weekend. Tomorrow a new work week begins and my crewmates and I return to the maintenance of the 115 ft. Feadship we are maintaining while awaiting word from our boss as to what our program will be. We are in between captains right now, which means the boss will not be onboard using the boat anytime soon, which means we stand around and polish polish polish until something changes. It can be a bit boring. The occasional yachtie strolls down the dock in their flip flops, kaki shorts, and blue t-shirt logo-ed with the name of the boat they belong to, going about their work day in a leisurely fashion. I imagine the boats that are here in the marina with us right now are experiencing the same sort of lack of schedule. If you are in San Diego in the winter instead of Mexico or the Caribbean...this is a safe assumption. Though, of all cities to be "left behind" in, this one is pretty nice. This is the quiet time in this temperate city with slightly breezy cold starts, morning marine layer melting off to 70 degree weather lunches that cool back down to a cool, crisp evening. The local concert venue rests quietly for the sandals and Tommy Bahama adorned Jimmy Buffet-wannabe's that will crowd Shelter Island in the summertime. Indeed, if your yacht is here right now, it is in repair and/or in little use. It is certainly not enjoying the luxury it was built for and the crew sit idly by writing blogs, reading books, and catching up on much needed exercise at the local gym. This is actually one of my favorite things to do right now, with the football playoffs going on. I jump on the treadmill along with 4 or 5 old captains and we breathlessly cheer as we workout to the games. It is such a strange place to convene and yet...so right. Why have I never thought of working out to watching sports before? I don't know. Another one of my favorite things to do here is to walk everywhere. Yesterday I left the boat with my camera and backpack and ambitiously walked the 7 miles to downtown taking photos the whole way and reassuring myself I would reward myself with a delicious fatty burger. Continuing my cruelty to myself, however, I settled for a simple fish salad. But I had such a great time and was so proud of myself for my accomplishment, I didn't need the calories to feel the reward. Plus, let's be honest. I put on a few extra pounds after Brian left for China and am desperate to lose my depression pounds. Needless to say, this is why I am taking today a little easier, reading, watching the beautiful sunny day go by, and planning for a quiet dinner alone in Little Italy tonight.
I cannot complain. San Diego, even in its slow quietness, is a beautiful city with amazingly gorgeous sunny days and a simple, laid back charm. I look forward to seeing Brian's parents next week and showing them all my little favorite spots. If I could have Brian here and my dog Tilly snuggled between us...I think this place could easily be called Heaven. For now, I will take this silence and ease to do some necessary reflection and breathing after what has been a crazy crazy year and try to find beauty and humor in simplicity.
