On The Eve

28 March 2021

And here I am, somehow on the eve of departing for my last patrol. And with The Universe's sense of exceptional timing, Southern Cross is playing on Pandora. It's been 14 years since I've been south of the Equator to see the Southern Cross, but that song has always been one of my favorites, and became even more special after that first patrol on HAMILTON where we crossed the line. 

I'm well on the way with my patrol preps. 7 days of smoothies made and in the freezer turning solid - check. One batch of granola made for once the smoothies run out - check. A goodly number of podcasts downloaded - check. One more batch of booch bottled and SCOBY hoteled - check. Sheets are in the laundry, I still have to pack the daily sundries, and I'd be a damn fool if I didn't find a few more books to take with me. 

Greg asked me recently how I was feeling about getting underway. It was far enough before we left that I wasn't really in full prep mode so I gave him a kind of non-answer. I think my answer is different today. Today I'm nostalgic about temporary loss of the comforts of my home, mourning the separation from sleeping in my own bed, how the light streams through the living room windows to burnish the wood furniture, making dinner for myself or just having an apple with cheese at a reasonable hour, running through my neighborhood in the blossoming spring, my kitties' foibles and quirks that I'll miss over the next few weeks. 

Now is not the time to be thinking of all the reasons I love going to sea. It would ring a little hollow. I'm sure I'll feel different on the eve of returning from patrol -- especially from this one.

This is a short patrol, only 31 days, god willin' and the crick don't rise...with the caveat added because we didn't get to finish our last patrol as planned because of generator issues...like multiple issues on both SSDGs. Given how the pandemic changed so many things, I know I didn't get to have the experience I wanted from my last tour at sea. I'm pissed about it and recognize that being pissed about it doesn't change the reality of it but only prevents me from making the most of what I can from it -- I stay in my own damn way if I hold onto being mad and grumpy and dispossessed by it. 

I'm nervous about the weather. My sea sickness has abated over the years, but I know other people's hasn't and it's just exhausting to get tossed about. We're going pretty far offshore, with no good places to run if it gets really gross. OPS' observation was to find a good ride, which thankfully we should have the flexibility to do -- mostly. 

Ugh, and just ugh, the middle of the night phone calls. I know the OODs feel bad about calling me, and they're following my orders, and I **want** them to call if they need to -- but fuck! that achy-ness in my very bones that settles in after a few nights of not getting un-interrupted sleep, and always having some part of my consciousness attuned to the sounds of the ship. It is a very physical reminder of the ultimate responsibility inherent to command. I wouldn't have it any other way -- and there are small moments I rue the truth of it. 

Maybe now is the time to remind myself of why I love going to sea...:) There is a lessening of self, and integration into a greater whole.

Instead, I'm gonna go enjoy some quality time lounging on my couch, reading a book, and hoping a cat deigns to come keep me company.