Wind. Too much wind. No wind. Tracing the path for the day's sail on stained pages of the waterproof chart book. Raising the mizzen on Jones Bay, and leaving it raised for the next five days. The drive on Hwy 17, a sausage biscuit from breakfast on the way down, a hamburger for lunch on the way home. Trolling with my new lure shaped like a blue crab, which caught my eye and may catch nothing more. The taste of salt on my lips, from sweat, from spray over the bow. Talking with Shawn and his waterman buddies at the boatyard. Ordering a shrimp burger at Morris Marina. Dew covered decks in the morning. Scrolling through the waypoints to find the next destination. Listening to weather radio for the current conditions in New Bern, Swan Quarter and Cedar Island, enjoying the automated female voice saying "CLOW-dee."
Sailing off anchor under full sail, jibing out of the anchorage as if I knew what I was doing. The cool, sweet taste of syrup from the fruit cups on a hot afternoon. Waking up late at night to see the the Milky Way glowing across the sky. Calm mornings, breezy afternoons. Not talking to anybody for a couple of days. Watching the big sailboats head up Bay River to Gale Creek, northbound on the ICW. Reading my book, but only after the cooking gear is stowed, bivy set up and log book filled out. Ibises, white and glossy, stepping gingerly on the shoreline. Blue skies and a hot sun. Clouds. Peppers and onions sizzling on the griddle. The tangy taste of anchovies. Pouring a gallon jug of warm water over my head on the last evening out. Dolphins, coming from nowhere, then disappearing. Coming home, sunburned and windburned.
Just a few of the things I'm looking forward to...