Long story short

So we committed: leave the boat in New Zealand, run back to the USA again. We had only days to get Meriwether back to the yard. Luckily the weather cooperated—gave us a few gentle days with no wind to speak of. Which meant 80 miles of pure diesel power over three days, staying in anchorages we knew well enough after hitting this coastline three times already. A few short miles from the boat yard, we enjoyed one final night aboard. Early wake-up for me, very early for Kerri, anchor up by 6:30 am to make our 7 am haul-out slot. The sun rose just as we arrived. I took that as a win.

Meriwether came out of the water and slid into her berth for the next six months. Then six more days of preparing her for the stay: removing sails, removing all food, the usual end-of-season ballet. We packed four bags of our belongings—clothes, documents, the things we couldn’t bear to leave behind in case we decided to sell her where she sat (mostly memorabilia, if we’re honest). Plenty went left behind, but nothing we couldn’t replace.

On July 20th, two days before we’d overstay our visa and officially become legal problems, we boarded our flight for the 14-hour ride back to the States. Each long flight seems a little less unbearable than the last—I can’t explain this. Our first 12-hour flight back felt awful. The next one felt a little less awful. This one followed the pattern: a little less awful. But it still sucked.

We landed to Kerri’s parents waiting. One more hour by car and we were at Marcel’s place in the California foothills. Just ten days earlier we’d been hunting for a weather window to Fiji. Now we sat in California, and the feeling was relief. Relief at not having to do that ten-day passage (yet?). Relief to get back in the van, back to moving at our own pace, back to enjoying this instead of enduring it.

This marks where this blog pauses and our van-travels continue at www.van-tramp.com for anyone interested.