It was the 20th of April when I first went at sea with Momo, together with Clifton, Michael and Jovita. A first swig of salty air after a five weeks apnea on shore.
You don’t feel the sea so easily. You stay in land for long, you work in a city, you dream about it at night while your soul is dry. Then the first day comes. This first contact could hit you, overwhelm with shock if you are not used to it, or softly cherish your soul if you know the sea and are used to its contact. But it is never a deep contact that first one.You need days on the sea, long nights awake swinging in a dark bay or staring the bright wake of the boat sailing under a vault of stars.
So we went back that day with a faint idea of what living on Momo at sea should have been.
More than ten days has passed now since than. I managed to go out at sea two more times despite Momo is not legally allowed to sail in the Dominican Republic for the moment due to paperwork to do and taxes to pay. I have to ask permission to the Navy and justify my trip with technical reasons every time.
In the meanwhile I am alone in the boat. The way time passes has slightly changed for me. I am relaxed, not much to do on the boat apart little improvements. I spend time with other yacthies, have lunches, dinners and good conversations with them, I spend more time trying to get good food, shave myself with no rush while listening at the radio in the morning… in this process I lost the physical contact with the sea. But my spirit slowly absorbs the rhythm. The slow rhythm of life at sea.