|Mariah and Windy. (courtesy Jorge Blanco)|
But as near-perfect as their visit was, and as closely as we were able to represent the reality of our lives, we just can’t get all the way there. Windy was the first to make that observation, several guests ago.
Beyond the fact that we deliberately don’t spend our guests’ vacations tending to boat maintenance and school work and writing and laundry and shopping, there’s a Heisenberg-like distortion of the reality they experience. It’s the difference between the movie clip they get and the unfolding saga that’s happening for our family.
Accordingly, one of the tangential joys we get from having visitors—and separate from the pleasure and importance of re-connecting with people we love—is the reminder we take away from each one: that we four, living and growing daily together aboard this floating home, are bonded tightly by our common, fundamentally un-shareable voyage afloat.
|Del Viento anchored at Candeleros, one of several pretty|
spots on the west side of Isla Espiritu Santo.
|Jorge, Mariah, and me.|
|Uncle Jorge and Auntie Mariah learning what it means to be crew.|
I'm in the dinghy.
|Frances and Eleanor at the apex of a hike from the|
Caleta Lobos anchorage (on the Baja mainland)
overlooking the Balandra anchorage. That's
Isla Espiritu Santo in the distance.
|Eleanor will soon be taller than her mom, her Auntie Mariah,|
and most of the adult women on that side of her family.