Nightmares by the sea
Okay as my compatriot previously pointed out (he beat me to it!), today is moving day. We are awaiting word of the boat's arrival in Olympia, WA, which is something like halfway between Raymond and Seattle. Everything is going swimmingly, including the marina manager calling to offer assistance and "round up some of the boys" if we need help. Not a totally selfless act; he said in a kind of worried tone, "You've got someone moving it for you, right?" and then offered his services with the qualifier, "so you don't smash into anything." Granted, our slip is about 20 feet wide, and it lies between a $600,000 house barge and a restored 40' wooden sailboat. Well, help is help, and we're grateful.
I had a series of detailed, lucid nightmares last night. All of them involved sinking boats. Mostly, I found myself alone on the dock, wondering why the Octopus of Love was sitting so low in the water, and then watching in horror as the water began flooding in through the windows. I jumped into the Lake and was attempting to hold the boat above water until help came. I had on SCUBA gear and was underneath the boat (I remember looking at the zinc plate we nailed onto the transom in approval), trying to figure out what was wrong. The boat was going down so fast, and it was so heavy... I woke up sweating and panting and practically strangling my cat. When I fell back asleep, a similar nightmare started, except this time I was not alone -- it was some Hawaiian holiday and people were partying on the boats next to ours and on the dock. And likewise, the boat began to sink. But then I realized it was not our boat, it was someone else's that looked exactly like ours. I still tried to save it, and no one else was trying to help, they just stood there in their grass skirts, drinking out of coconuts and watching the Cruise-a-Home sink like the Titanic into the bowels of Lake Union.
It's going to be fine. I'm sure.
Unloading in T - 1 h 50 min.