Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Sometimes you have a bad day and shake it off. Other times bad days string together into a bad week, leaving you to wonder just how you managed to pissed off absolutely all of the God’s, at the exact same time. At the beginning of March we had one of “those” weeks.

We had recently returned to town after a yet another fun filled tour of the Rock Islands. We were still waiting for a bit of mail, had a few jobs on the To Do List and both needed to spend a couple hours online to get caught up on things. The mooring field was busy but we squeezed in way down the back and settled into our ‘city’ routine.

The morning after our arrival we went ashore for a few hours of screen time. The usually kinda fast WIFI was playing up so after about 30minutes struggling with a crappy connection and getting nothing but frustrated we packed up and went home. As we rounded the corner I watched expectantly for the boat to come into view, heart in my throat a bit, as it always is. No matter how confident I am about our anchor or our mooring it is always in the back of my mind when I leave the boat; something could happen when we are away and we wouldn’t be there to save the boat, our home. And this time something did happen. Kate wasn’t where we left her. The mooring had failed. Strangely we were both rather calm about things:

H: “That’s not where we parked.”

S: “Nope.”

H: “Interesting.”

S: “Yep.”

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