<h2>Focus for the Future</h2>

Well, maties, find a perch and pour yourself a tot. Considering how Covid-19 has disrupted everything coming together for a yarn ain’t easy, especially when we try to keep separated by a fathom or more and with a piece of canvas hiding our faces.

We salty tars know what happens when the wind builds from gentle breeze to a banshee howl. Storms rage and our normally congenial environment becomes a raging monster. Some curse. Others pray. Time abdicates reality. Cold and wet we shelter in our oilskins and get on with life. One wave at a time we tell ourselves “this too will pass”. Eventually, it does.

If you think staying at home a few weeks is driving you mad imagine what months alone at sea does. By halfway through my first solo crossing, crazy was so close driving became unnecessary. I could walk the distance. Some still shake their heads and claim my compass needs adjusting.

Confined to a small hull adrift on a huge ocean where social intercourse consists of talking to the cat, gives new meaning to stir crazy, cabin fever and a

host of other fancy names. Been there and done that. In fact, I still have the hard-earned lessons, Tshirt and baseball cap, somewhere.

I never claimed to be the brightest light on the Christmas tree. Not if I was being honest. But now is our best opportunity to sit back, think clearly and plan a new direction for our lives.

In early 2019, during haul-out at a boatyard in Thailand, an unfortunate incident occurred causing extensive damage to Vega and completely flooding her. We spent the remainder of 2019 – twelve hours a day, seven days
a week – restoring Vega to seaworthy condition. We were willing to work, but our pockets were so empty even lint balls gave up and left. Without the support of friends whose donations provided us with materials and basic creature comfort, Vega would have been lost.

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