November 6, 2012
The thermometer inside the boat read 45 degrees F as I forced myself to get out from under the covers. The cold air cut through every layer of clothing on my body. It was time to get the stove cranking.
Coffee was first on the list. However, I was out of ground coffee and needed AC power to run the grinder. After venturing outside, and into the starboard engine room to turn on the inverter, I was finally able to get coffee grounds into the percolator.
There were two ripe bananas sitting on the counter, just waiting to go into a loaf of banana bread. The entire family had been begging for weeks to have some homemade banana bread. Now was that time.
With coffee on the stove, and banana bread in the oven, the cabin warmed to 52 degrees F. The brief rays of sunshine faded behind a gray cloud cover, and eventually the rain drops began to fall.
Not only was water falling from the sky on the outside, but also on the inside. As the cabin became warmer than the outside temperatures, condensation was collecting on every surface that bordered the cold air outside. Eventually, water drops fell throughout the inside of the boat. On the salon tables. On the galley counter. At the navigation table. On our bunks.
Warmth. We need warmth. Our bodies need warmth. The boat needs warmth and fresh air. The desire to open the hatches and ports, and feel a warm breeze across the cabins, is great.
In about 2 weeks we should have this warmth. Sunshine on our faces without multiple layers of clothing. Who knows? Maybe it will be too hot, and then we’ll complain of the heat! Too hot? Well, then we’ll just go for a swim.