After dreaming it now it's time to settle in aboard La Ceci, a Dufour 31, my new boat and my new home.
The taming
It's October 2019. I wake up for the first time aboard La Ceci, my beautiful sailboat.
I don't really feel at home yet... we look at each other, we're apprehensive. I've been on boats, I'm used to moving around on a boat... but here, I'm bumping into myself again and again.
I prepare my morning coffee.
I'm looking for things between what the previous owner left and what I brought.
The coffee passes. I look around. I can't believe my eyes. This is La Ceci. I'm on my sailboat.
I pour myself a cup of coffee. I sit down in the cockpit. I look around. I'm in the bay, so there's some distance between the boats. It doesn't make much difference because they're empty, but I like the feeling of being alone on the water. I look around and can't believe my eyes. No, I still can't. It took me a few weeks, maybe even a few months, to realize that my dream had come true.
A lot of people asked me if I wasn't going to be scared, there, alone in the middle of the water. It hadn't even occurred to me.
I start emptying my bag, settling in, thinking about how to organize the boat. How to organize my stuff. How to make the boat habitable and still be "ready to go". One thing was for sure: I didn't want a floating residence. I didn't want it to take me 1 hour to go sailing, to stow away everything that might fall off; I wanted to be able to set sail in 20 minutes max.
I think about it all. I realize that, here too, it took quite a while for everything to find its place. I suppose that's to be expected. These small navigable spaces are a bit like puzzles where everything has to find its place.
Little by little, I got my bearings. As the days go by, I bang less, look less, everything finds its place. And so am I.
Life on the water, an experience of a lifetime
If you're a club member and want to go ashore in Hendaye, there's a shuttle service. This takes place according to a certain schedule. In autumn, these are fairly limited. So you have to rely on a dinghy to get you ashore and back. At the start, I don't have one yet, so I'm dependent on the shuttle or I have to move with La Ceci to the pontoon. So it requires a certain amount of organization.
Being on the water, I have no access to drinking water or electricity. A whole new awareness of my consumption operates: Iâ??m even more careful about what I consume. I only charge my electronics, computer and phone during the day, using my small solar panel. When it comes to water, I go down to the port or carry cans: turning on the tap takes on a whole new dimension. No, the water doesn't flow.
The weather becomes one of the focal points of my daily life, even if I'm not at anchor but at a mooring that has been checked and is safe. My relationship with nature, with the inhabited element, is intensifying. It's essential for me to have this information on a regular basis, and to see how my boat and I react to different conditions.
The first storm arrives
My goddaughter was visiting. I had been living on La Ceci for two weeks when the first storm arrived. 8 Beauforts were forecast. Even being in the bay, we were in for a rough ride. With my parents living in Hendaye, I decided to spend the night at their place to be on the safe side. I know the boat is safe. It's secure.
The night away from Ceci was atrocious. I could hear the wind and the rain, and I kept telling myself that she was down there, in the bay, alone.
It's strange, but at times like these, you think of it as if it were a person. It's a part of you that trembles.
The next day, with the storm abated but still very much with us, the club's shuttle service to the boats doesn't work. So, from a distance, I check to see if everything's okay. I also check out my friends' boats, binoculars in hand.
All the boats are fine, everyone is fine.
All firsts arrive
The first fill-up of water in the harbor, the first boat visit with friends, the first meal with friends, the first buoy catch during the night, the first cup that falls into the water, the first climb up the mast, the first work meetings where people ask you where you are because they don't know if it's you who's moving or the executive hanging behind you (I was 100% telecommuting), the first sailing trips with friends, the first sensations of total freedom...
And then there's the first work. And yes, I need to gain more energy autonomy...
But that's another story...
