JUST ENOUGH

We slept the sleep of the exhausted last night, thrilled to have made it to the Outer Banks, and deliciously comfortable in our V-berth nest.

We're officially live aboards now, but for awhile we'll be moving-aboards.

While on the one hand, it's an amazing feat that we pared a houseful of belongings down to three carloads of stuff, stuff that fit beautifully into a fictional boat and a fictional cruising lifestyle.  But now that the fiberglass has hit the water, all that stuff seems, well, too much.

The boat is spacious in boat terms, but in house terms, we're pretty much moving into the equivalent of a nicely appointed garden shed.

As people stop by to see our new home, I watch their reaction, curious to see if, as I expected, they would view us a borderline nut bags. What I didn't anticipate is that people would look longingly about the boat, settle in and heave a huge happy sigh.

Many times already, I have heard, "This is really all you need, isn't it?"

They lament their full houses, crammed attics, bursting storage units. What a crazy, untenable economic system we've built. Truly, how can we maintain an economy that can only thrive if all of us keep consuming?

I'm not really doing my part to stop the madness. I've only traded in my jeans for new high-tech pants, ditched my rolling suitcase for a waterproof duffle, and given up stoneware for wooden dishes.

But one day soon, this tradeoff must end. The boat is a container. When it is full, there will be no marine trailer pulled behind us, no luggage rack on deck.

I look forward to that moment when we can finally declare that we've crossed the finish line, that what we have onboard is just enough.