A passenger

Leaving La Paz with faithful Ana Mae close behind.

I don’t know what to make of this modified life yet.  I find it hard to leave our beautiful orchard grounds with trees soldiering on wearing their gold, rubies and emeralds; a quiet and still world, perfect for soul growing. 

I miss my church, God seems so close every Sunday of my regular life and other days too with bibles laying open and Songs that wet the corners of my eyes.

Safely cocooned in the Valley that adopted me thirty years ago, I now have to leave it for a world on water, uprooted and left to search for new ways to grow roots. But here, who will feed my soul next? The magnificent sunset day after day, the breeze that moves the fingers of palm leaves or the ocean dwellers that let me take a peak at them, or what about a spectacular moonrise on the flat horizon? Surely a feast for the eyes of my soul, but for the feeding of the heart?  I have to rely on SpringDay, when her long and supple black roots attach to cleats on a dock of a marina long enough for perhaps a special encounter.

 

Meet Roberto.

“Lili, can d’you make sure the weendows are closed for washing?” he says cloth in hand ready to bathe and moisturize SpringDay the same way he took care of Lilipad in November of 2011. “How have you been?” I said.

"Super blessed!", he would answer always.

As soon as the wax is on and that a final touch is put on the electronics, SpringDay leaves for Mazatlan and Roberto ventures a question. “ Can I get a ride to Mazatlan?”

Roberto changed his life three years ago when he became a christian. Three years ago he also became a father. His son Fernando lives in Mazatlan and they have not seen each other for two years. "Yes of course!" and we can use an extra pair of eyes for the thirty hour crossing of the Sea of Cortes. A few clothes, a bible and a tricycle for sonny and we're off.  

 Unsuccessful fishing but happy conversations about the Word, then we are summoned by Skipper to watch for a

four mile long yellow fishing line floating just below the surface of the water, reported by boaters ahead of us. Every three or four feet of line, hangs a vertical line with a hook clutching a piece a squid.  SpringDay’s long nose/bulbous bow (much like Skipper's nose!) kept catching the line so we decided to pick up the line with a fifteen foot pole, cut it, and Roberto ran one end of the line and I the other end to the back of the boat where he reattached it and dropped it in the water. Arrival in Mazatlan.

Roberto shining stainless steel under way

To be continued...