Anchoring options along the ICW are limited which means staying in marinas. After parting with our buddy boat, S/V Shiloh, we adopted the motto, “If it ain’t free; It ain’t for us.” As we wedged ourselves into a couple of questionable spots along available free docks, our bank account exhaled a sigh of relief.
Back in Texas, after a 13 hour day of sailing/motoring up the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) from Port Aransas, we stayed in a marina. We arrived at night and identified what we thought to be our assigned slip and from that moment, coined Blake's signature docking style, "The Wedge." It's where you wedge your boat in between a finger pier and a piling so snugly that you don't even have to use dock lines...just butter when you are ready to leave. We came close to recreating this moment in Belhaven, NC.
The ICW requires more fuel and more marina expenses than we have experienced since beginning this journey. It made us contract a bit around the one-way outward flow of money. Every expense negatively correlates to a dwindling journey; every dollar spent becoming one minute closer to having to go back to work. One may think, a dollar a foot is a great deal, and it is, but $38 a day adds up. Specifically, it adds up to $1140 a month, nearly half of our monthly budget.
Financial demands were not the only transition we were adjusting to. In the Bahamas, well stocked grocery stores, fuel stations, and propane refill opportunities were few and far between. This was not the case in the United States where resources are plentiful. We forgot what it felt like to have so many options. I vividly remember standing in a grocery store aisle and thinking, “How are there so many kinds of tomato sauce? Why are there so many kinds?” It felt overwhelming. There was also a feeling of needing to provision at every stop, even though it wasn’t needed.
There is more than enough of everything. It feels like too much. In the Bahamas, you get what you can and make due. There is not a lot of exercising preference. You get what is available or you go without. Even with this, there were very few times that there was a feeling of lack. We never felt like we were deprived but there was a need to provision or capitalize on resources every chance we had. Returning back to the United States, that survival instinct takes time to subside. At each port, I found myself looking for grocery stores; asking if we needed fuel or propane; asking if we needed water or hardware for repairs. Now, each stop was not based on resource provisioning. I didn’t need to concern myself with these things. We have everything we need but now what do we do?
We had plenty of time for exploration and fun in the Bahamas but our day was always structured around needs first. That structure is gone. I shifted my attention to hiking trails.
Where can we walk around and just explore without the pull of frivolously spending money? If you walk around a town, there are bakeries, boutiques, coffee shops, and all kinds of ways to spend, spend, spend. It’s quite contrary to be in a place of such excess with a chokehold on your budget. People speak about the high prices of groceries or fuel in the Bahamas but those are things you need. In the U.S., it becomes about exercising restraint around consuming things you don’t need.
I found myself becoming agitated by all the things and options. It all felt so mindless and silly while simultaneously feeling stressful and sobering to the realities of overindulgence in contrast with scarcity. It is agitating to transition from one extreme to another but there was opportunity here. It takes great discipline not to give into every whim of want. It’s also a great privilege to exert such discipline. It means you have the luxury of being able to afford what you want but the clarity and discernment to examine what you really need, or value.
There is a modest and subtle empowerment in this experience and I think it’s something only experienced through stark contrast. You become a bit of a Goldilocks, feeling the sensation of porridge that singes your tongue to porridge that sends a shiver down your spine; searching for your just right; your middle path. And let's be real, the good stuff is always in the middle anyway.
