I'm just realizing now that I never posted any pictures from Maine, and haven't even gotten them all developed, barely even looked at the ones I have. I decided not to go back this year, despite it being in many ways wonderful and new and certainly unknown, if that is indeed what I'm looking for. Mostly what I remember is hard, hard, hard work from 5:30 am to 9:00 pm at which time I collapsed into my bunk and had weird, terrible dreams brought on by the combination of being at sea and reading James Hogg (not a recommended pairing.) I know not all those hours were nonstop work, but being in such close proximity to people all day long felt that way, and indeed the work was preferable to the brief moments of free time that I never managed to appreciate. Maybe that was good for me, maybe I should go back, but I'm trying so hard to make a solid everyday life that wanting something else feels tantamount to running away. I do want to go back to Maine, though, and I do want to sail, and I do want to work hard and long and make somebody happy with it.
at 10:03 AM