Another Farewell

“A Ship in Harbor Is Safe, But that Is Not What Ships Are Built For” -John Shedd

Late Wednesday evening I tidied up my desk, put my access card in my supervisor’s desk drawer and walked out of the Washington State Patrol headquarters for the last time. After two and half years, another chapter in my working life comes to an end.

I am still a little incredulous at how I ended up working on databases for the State Patrol. The very moment I stepped off Galapagos at her new home in Olympia, the phone rang asking me to come in for an interview. That was in September of 2020; the depths of COVID times and everyone was scrambling to sort out a new normal. Fortunately, adaptability is a super power one acquires living aboard a sailboat in Mexico.

Remember the Good Old Days?  All masked up (except for Asha!) during a software release.

For the first year and half, I was one of a handful of people that came into the office daily; Everyone was teleworking and only a few managers would show up from time to time. Because I lived so close by, it was more convenient to work in the office. Plus the building is beautiful and my office was very comfortable. So I would work all day, Zooming with my co-workers in an office with no one in it.

The Helen Sommers building where I worked. A beautiful space makes coming into the office a lot easier.

Lucky for me that I got to work with a team of great people that were so patient and helpful as I came up to speed on the various projects. It was a good match; my experience developing databases merged with the State Patrol’s multi-year effort to modernize their records systems. It was fulfilling work in a way I had not expected. I re-wrote their Missing and Unidentified Persons database and developed tools to export the data to other agencies. But it was also hard to see the stories of people’s lives gone terribly wrong. Human tragedy reduced to a record in a table.

Rest easy, citizens. We have our TOP people working to protect you.

I am so grateful to my managers and co-workers that made my time at the State Patrol so enjoyable.  Even during COVID, the energy and comradery in our group made work a pleasure.  Thank you all.

Many, but not all of the crew that keeps the data flowing for the State Patrol.

Now my full time job is working to put the finishing touches on Galapagos so that we can begin cruising the Salish Sea this summer and head to Vancouver Island and beyond. We will move back aboard sometime this month and yet another transition will begin. I have to remind myself that farewells, hard and scary as they sometimes are, always imply a new beginning; a chance to set dreams in motion and bring them to reality.

A Different Kind of Solstice

Maybe it’s the inner Druid in me but I really look forward to the winter solstice.  Especially now that we are in the damp, dark Pacific Northwest, I know that at least it can’t get any darker.  I know it will get wetter. One out of two ain’t bad. (That’s what I tell myself anyway)

I was reminded of another winter solstice  as I read about the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn tonight. Two years ago, Melissa and I were anchored near Puerto Escondido and we enjoyed Mercury, Venus and Jupiter in a pre-dawn sky.

Mercury Venus and Jupiter over Danzante Island

Venus, top right, was spectacular. In real life she looks like a small moon. Stately Jupiter is the brighter of the two planets just above the mountains of Isla Danzante. And little Mercury is just to Jupiter’s left

I wrote then about our Cunning Little Christmas  and how far flung our family was.  In 2018, Andrew and Jill were living in Paris at the beginning of a one year travelling honeymoon. Claire and Dan were living in Ecuador. And we were bumping around the Sea of Cortez aboard Galapagos. It was a bittersweet Christmas with everyone spread out across the globe. But even though we weren’t together it still felt like we were all where we were supposed to be.

This year could not be more different.  Melissa and I are sharing a house with Claire and Dan. Andrew and Jill are only twenty miles away in Tacoma.  We are all about as close as an American family can get. And still it feels like we are all where we need to be. We have gotten a little manic with Christmas shopping; perhaps we are trying to make up for our small celebrations aboard Galapagos.  We are doing our part to revitalize the economy.

Our Christmas Cholla tree aboard Galapagos. It is still hanging in the salon.

Galapagos is snug in her berth just two miles from the house.  Melissa and I go down to visit her once or twice a week.  It feels good to be in the salon, or bumping around the shop.  Being aboard gives me a moment to reflect on my cruising life and make plans for another adventure.  But first I need to start any of the myriad projects to get her ready for another passage.  She is due for a substantial overhaul of her rig and other major systems. I’ll start in earnest this spring. When it stops raining. Whenever that is.

We’ve been good little capitalists this Christmas. Chungus the cat prevents us from having a proper tree. She’s a jerk.

Wherever you are, may the sun shine on you a little more tomorrow.