![]() ![]() Anyway, my little boat “suffered” 16 months under cover in our back yard. Too much government and all run poorly by design. That “official” process was a genuine pain. Several weeks ago I began the process to get LUNA to water. Somewhere, some time ago, I read that an unused boat suffers more than one put to use. My soul is rooted to the bottom of a boat. She allowed me to spend so many hours in a boat as a child. For that joy, I owe so much to my mother. Nothing is more divorced from our hectic world than floating in a loved boat. In two nights I plan on enjoying the evening with Luna … somewhere … at anchor, dreaming about distant horizons. Not the task to get there, but the reward for the effort. “Worth” for me all comes down to passion. In this hurry-up world, is she worth it? There’s varnish yet to be spruced. Conceptually many simple task s have taken a week of days. Loading the mast and installing road supports for tomorrow’s trip east takes no small effort, a two-man job. ![]() So much to learn about true wooden boats. Wetting the cooking driveway hopefully delays the planks drying. Got to get that extra fraction of a knot? No, but darn if it doesn’t look better. As I’ve wrestled to get Luna water ready, furtive thoughts pry, “Is she worth it?” This morning I brushed on a second coat of Petit Trinidad ($250/ gallon paint. So much of the “now” is fake, demanding attention, here today, gone tomorrow. ![]()
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