In the morning, it will be two days until Robin leaves Cambridge, headed for Maine. This is anxiety time, the place before an extended voyage when you are trying to assure that you are ready, that the boat is ready, that the crew is ready.
And nothing ever is completely ready.
Today I got a call from Josh, the electrician, who said he had fixed the refrigeration but that he noticed the battery charger didn't seem to be working. He had to run Robin's engine to get enough juice to run the refrigeration.
I don't have time to ask someone to look at it, so in the morning, I'll do my best to troubleshoot the electrical system. My hunch is that it's the same problem that nearly kept us from the starting line in St. George's, Bermuda, a year ago -- a corroded ground lug under the engine. I'll clean that lug in the morning and cross my fingers.
We don't need the battery charger to go to Maine. It only works when you are at a dock with electricity. But we do need the batteries to charge reliably, so cleaning the lug would be a good practice in any case.
It is 9:45 p.m. The air conditioning is on, blowing cool air over the starboard settee, which tonight will be my berth.
The water around Robin is alive right now. There are thousands and thousands of menhaden rippling the surface of the marina like a hail storm. Beneath the schools, slightly larger fish flash their bright silver sides as they streak up from below to feast.
Under a sidewalk lamp that shines out onto the water, you can see jelly fish with translucent gray bulbs and long tendrils. And you can see crabs swimming this way and that. I had never observed crabs before, but now I know why they are called "beautiful swimmers". They do the side stroke!
They pull with the legs on one side and then glide some distance before repeating the stroke. When they see food or a predator -- maybe a larger crab -- they dart at an acute angle. There are tiny swimmers and larger ones. Under the light, the action is similar to the adolescent excesses found in a mosh pit.
Today, I loaded most of the edible supplies aboard Robin and stored the clothing in the designated compartments. I bought jugs and bottles of water and bottles of green tea and stored that, too. Then I replaced some rotten plywood in the deck box that I was modifying to move the propane out of the cockpit.
In the morning, I'll paint the plywood. But Josh is unable to complete the relocation of the propane tank from the cockpit, so everything -- the gas tanks and the life raft -- will remain where it is.
I see by the National Hurricane Center web site that there are two areas of interest in the tropics -- one in the western Caribbean and the other much farther east. I'll be keeping an eye on those systems from now on. If they develop, Robin will stop in the nearest safe spot and await their passing.
Now, it's time for sleep.