Mornings on the Boat

Mornings start early on Indiscretion. Sometime between 6 and 7 a.m., one of our two trawler dogs will jump down off the bed and start issuing low whines I can’t drown out no matter how deeply I burrow into the blankets.

I complain a lot about having to take the dogs ashore in the morning, but to be honest, I love it. We take it slow in the tender and breathe in the still morning air. The salt and sea smell clear out the sleep cobwebs, and I come fully awake, aware of the beauty that engulfs me. It might have been blowing 20 knots all night, but flat water usually welcomes me on these short boat rides.

I’m no stranger to mornings on a boat. I commuted by ferry every morning from our home on Vashon Island to Tacoma for twenty-odd years. Certainly, that kind of commute beats a freeway any day, but it’s nothing like this.

This morning, we take a short ride from our anchorage here in Westcott Bay to the dinghy dock at English Camp in Garrison Bay. While our souped-up tender could hurtle us along at 30 knots, we take it slow to preserve the stillness. The frantic race up the dock for that first long pee, and then 20 or 30 minutes of glorious sniffing and exploration. The walk back to the tender is always slower as both dogs would be much happier to continue their exploration of land, but will grudgingly step back aboard the tender when requested.

Back on Indiscretion, our morning routine begins. We fire up the generator to charge the batteries. The 12KW Northern Lights generator is tucked away inside a well-insulated engine room, encased in a sound-muffling box. You feel its rumble more than you hear it. I’ll make 25 gallons of fresh water using our watermaker, which helps offset our daily usage. By this time, the wonderful aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the boat. Lisa brings up two steaming mugs to the pilothouse, and we begin the process of becoming fully human again.

I almost always put on my “mornings on the boat” playlist: What a Wonderful World, I Can See Clearly Now, Songbird (Eva Cassidy’s soulful masterpiece), Into the Mystic, and a handful of others that punctuate how amazing it is to wake up afloat. This playlist evolved from our early sailing days when accommodations weren’t nearly so plush and we needed a reminder in that dark, damp saloon first thing in the morning. Now the music is like an old friend, and I can’t help but hum along. And smile.

After the generator runs for an hour, we have plenty of hot water for showers (there is absolutely nothing like taking a hot morning shower on a boat). Showered and caffeinated, the dogs asleep again, I find myself in the pilothouse where I am writing this right now.

Lisa often relaxes in the salon with a book, but this is my happy place. I read, write, or just watch out the dozen surrounding windows at the other anchored boats and shoreline. Soon, loose plans for the day begin to crystalize: A trip ashore for provisions, a half dozen boat projects I’ve been neglecting, a conference call I’ll take from this watery office … but not just yet. I pour one more cup of coffee to put off the inevitable busyness that pervades boat life and shore life, alike.

I love these mornings on the boat.