We’re up to our eyeballs in variables right now. But also in a holding pattern, waiting on professionals to do their professions. Most of last week was spent killing time and talking ourselves through, around, up, down, and back again with all the potential routes we have ahead of us.
Ol’ Wanda needed a check up and fluids change, and now that we have a boat deal breathing down our necks, it became more pressing to get it scheduled. Jason has tried at several different times to make an appointment for Wanda as our list of “little things” gets longer, but every place we checked with were months out on their calendar. Now that we’re looking at having to sell the old gal, we needed to get it looked at. Fortunately, after Jason made a list of eight garages to call, he pulled a jackpot with number two on the list. Jason worked out the logistics of getting the RV to the place, but then we weren’t sure if they would keep it for the day, overnight, a week, two weeks?? We ended up leaving camp at the Moore Haven KOA, and booked another RV spot in LaBelle, FL for two nights, close to the RV repair shop.
Then, if the garage kept Wanda, we wouldn’t be out much money for cancelling the RV park and had to find a hotel. We dropped Wanda off with the garage at 10am last Wednesday, with them stating a return time of around 3:30pm. They had our list of to-do’s and would check everything out, then send Jason a list of what they could get done that day. While we waited, we loaded up our big dog, Sage, and headed to a park for the day.
Boys played their little hearts out while Jason and I both took the time to make calls back home to our folks that were long overdue.
We had lunch at the park from a lovely place called “Fk Your Diet” (the food was excellent), received the list from the garage and decided on what repairs were worth the price, then arrived back at the shop early. The owner walked through our list of repairs with Jason and gave us the best course of action considering the rig and our future plans for selling. Then we were on the road again with a better running (and sounding) Wanda heading towards our two-night stay at Whisper Creek RV in LaBelle, FL. Since the RV park wasn’t far from the RV shop, Jason drove the RV while Ryan rode with me as I followed in the car.
That 45-minute car ride alone with my 14-year-old was one of the most meaningful times I’ve ever had with him since starting this adventure on the road. Ryan, sitting shotgun messing with the radio stations, started asking questions about the best and worst with RV living, best and worst with our future boat living, and what we missed most and least about home. We shared our biggest fears, greatest joys, funniest moments. We talked about Jesus, friends, family, and relationships. We cried and laughed together, and for the first time in a very long time, I saw my baby boy as a young man, searching for the right answers to some of the hard questions in life. I love that kid, err, young man with all that I am and I am so proud he is mine.
Whisper Creek RV was WONDERFUL. It was also a 55-and-older community. Jason was assured we could stay since we were only there a couple days, but we needed to keep the boys quiet and respectful. Easy peasy – our boys are three little angels straight from heaven. With our one full day at Whisper Creek, I spent it getting some laundry done and gossiping with the golden girls in the laundry room. Then we all played some extreme 4-square on our luxurious cement pad at our site.
I did have a little excitement while at Whisper Creek before we left on Friday morning. My brother-in-law, Jason, asked for some assistance in obtaining VERY hard to purchase music festival tickets that were going on sale at 1pm. The festival is called Watershed, and it’s a down-right good time stretching three days in the dead heat of late July in George, Washington. Before we started this life on the road, it was a yearly tradition that Jason and I would go with Kristi and Jason. Top country music artists, shopping, fried food, cocktails, sunburns, and the best people watching you can imagine while you’re camped out alongside THOUSANDS of other attendees.
The admission tickets weren’t hard to purchase, but the specific camping spots we wanted were killer. Within minutes of going live, they’re sold out. It’s a nerve-wracking frenzy. I was thrilled to be a part of it again. Since our internet worked like a champ at Whisper Creek, but not so great at the next spot, Jason got us a late check out just so I could be online to help secure the camping tickets. The nerves were kicking in a solid hour before the site went live. I felt like I was back on high school swim team, waiting behind the starting blocks, stomach in my chest, heart in my throat, shaking out my arms and legs waiting to step up and compete. It’s THAT intense with these tickets. My brother-in-law was on speaker phone, and we waited for the seconds to tick by so we could purchase. Once the tickets went live, we clicked and clambered our way through the website.
And we failed.
We couldn’t get a camping ticket. The site kept saying they were unavailable – which meant all the tickets were in someone else’s cart waiting for the purchase to go through. We stayed on the phone for a couple of minutes, trying to get through, but had no luck. I hung up feeling defeated and super bummed I let them down. I’d always pulled through with tickets in the years before. But we didn’t get them this year, and we needed to pick up camp and move on. Out of desperation, I sat Ryan down in front of the computer and told him to “just keep clicking refresh” to see if a ticket suddenly (miraculously) became available while I helped get the RV ready. About 63 seconds after Ryan took over, he yells, “I GOT ONE!!!” I raced to the screen, not believing he really had anything, and saw a glorious camping ticket in the site’s shopping cart. By golly, the kid had done it! I politely told him to scoot over (ok, ok, so I yanked him out of the seat and told him to MOVE IT!) and followed through with the purchase.
And there it was, the rush of ecstatic thrill coursing through my veins. Victory! Needless to say, our 14-year-old came in clutch for his aunt and uncle that are now secured a coveted camping spot at the Watershed Music Festival.
After our short stay in LaBelle, we headed back to the Moore Haven KOA. The boys really love this place, we feel safe here, and the price is definitely right for long term stays. We have booked our stay here all the way through March 3rd – which just happens to be the contractual Accept/Reject date for the Lagoon 440 yacht that we have a deposit on!!
Here is where the rubber has met the road. Where we have put our money where our mouth is. The chips are all on the table. We have committed to the purchase of a Lagoon 440 sailing catamaran. It is real. Very, very real. Of course, there’s still a lot that can go sideways between now and a change in ownership of the boat. After days of searching, calling, messaging, and researching online, Jason found a marine surveyor that is willing to go to Martinique.
As of this morning, our broker, Terry, has the surveyor’s information and will set up the date and time for the survey and haul out of the boat. This survey and inspection is critical and will be the deciding factor on going through with the purchase. Once the date is set, Jason will book flights so he can be there for the survey. Terry will also fly down and be a part of the survey. Between the recommendations behind the surveyor, our broker’s knowledge of these sailboats, and Jason being present, we are set up the best we can for a thorough inspection of the boat.
This is where my anxiety kicks in and I’m freaking out. We are putting SO MUCH of our money into a lifestyle we know very little about. Sure, we have watched and read about it, but we haven’t lived it with the exception of one week over a year ago during sailing school. But we truly don’t know much about handling a boat of this caliber. My thoughts just keep circling back to “What if we hate it?” I don’t think we’ll hate living on the boat, or the places we’ll see, or the language barriers, or anything that comes with the boating lifestyle. My concern is the boat itself. What if we hate dealing with the boat?
The upkeep, the moisture, the rust, the sails, the lines, the rigging, the engines, the systems, the mold potential, the bugs getting into food, etc. What if the maintenance of the boat, that we know little to nothing about, sucks all the joy away from everything around us? Against all appearances and recent choices, I hate change, and I hate needing to be taught. It’s a serious character flaw that I'm keenly aware of. Any job I’ve ever had, I’ve hated the first two weeks of because I just felt stupid. I had to be taught. I know, of course I had to be taught. But honestly, I don’t like the feeling of having to rely on others to do a great job. (As I write this, it’s suddenly clicking why the boys struggle with not being amazing at something they’re attempting for the first time…) I want to excel at this life, but I can’t do that until I go through the learning pains, and I dread that stage. Do I want to pitch hundreds of thousands of dollars into something I have little skill at?
With that lack of skills comes the worry of ruining this boat. Running it aground, tangling the lines, ripping the sails in high winds, breaking systems beyond repair. Ughh, it’s too much for my little brain to comprehend. I thank God for Jason because Lord knows he’s getting an earful of imaginary hardships and catastrophic alternate realities on the daily. Perhaps I need to remember that, ultimately, I’m not truly in control of any of this. If we’re smart about our decisions, and take pause when something doesn’t feel right, then we’ll always come out on the upside. Or maybe I just need to start drinking my sailor's sundowner cocktails now and hang on for the ride.
So, here’s to Wanda running like a dream, to heart-to-hearts with a teenager, and to embracing the perils of buying a boat.
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