You know what it's like to settle into a nice, comfortable conversation with an old, old friend? You don't have to bother with "what do you do," "where are you from." That's what it's like to hang out with water people.
We don't get asked those "where will you LIVE?" or "what about your stuff?" questions. Water people have already pared down their lives to the bare necessities and understand our desire to shove off, leaving behind the land and all its attendant ties.
Last night we had dinner in Coinjock with Captain Freddy and his friend, Captain Ashley. Even though they both have small land abodes, the majority of their lives is spent on the water. They both captain large power yachts, taking owners on day trips or delivering the boats up and down the coast, in this case. This was our fourth time in the last few years to meet Freddy when he passed nearby.
Navigation software, weather, the Dry Tortugas. Kindred souls, great food and cheap cigars.
Alas I left my doggie bag under the bench on the dock. That was an unintended lightening of my load.
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