T-Minus 3, 2, 1...

The last few days have been a blur. The pieces came together extraordinarily well, and, it was incredibly stressful. 

3 Days Till Liftoff - January 5th

Moving day. All our worldly possessions were taken to a storage unit where they await our return to life on land. Its odd seeing everything we have in one 10x20’ box, and we were relieved that it all fit - there were worries that it wouldn't. As if moving weren't enough, at the same time the movers were closing the truck door, Jean finished strapping his motorcycle to it's new owner's trailer. The buyer - a new resident to Canada and a long time motorcyclist - was thrilled at his new bike and excited for spring.

We had been looking forward to a few quiet(er) days at mom and dad's house, where we could be taken care of a bit and not live amongst the chaos of moving anymore. After a casual dinner at their local haunt, I was informed that I was falling asleep, so home to bed it was. Unfortunately, 2am rolled around (our stress-induced mid-sleep wakeup time over the last week) and Jean suggested we move the canoe into the storage unit. We all know that making decisions or trying to solve problems at that cursed time of day (sailors call 2-5am the 'dog watch', and know that if things are going to go wrong, that's when it'll happen), so I hedged my bets. I had heard the storage unit was "very full" but hadn't seen the unit packed. I said we can go take a look tomorrow. 

2 Days Till Liftoff - January 6

The next morning we left mom and dads, finished cleaning and emptying the house, went to the mall to order our HIN plate (hull identification number - like a VIN but for boats), went to storage, and decided that with a tiny bit of reorganizing, our 17’ canoe would fit in the 20’ unit (over the patio furniture, on top of the fridge, and bumping up against the couch). 

We retrieved the canoe from its home in a

nearby storage facility, lifting it on and off the Subaru like pros. No drama, as if we had done it a time or 50. Also I work out - no big deal. Back to the storage unit and in about an hour total it was done. Canoe resting comfortably on its belly atop everything else. 

oooo fancy

Back to the mall to get the HIN plate. Lunch at the food court. Stop at the bank, then back to mom and dad's for me and out for a drink with the boys for Jean. 

Time for admin. Changing banking information and mailing addresses, ensuring we are connected with friends and family on Signal and WhatsApp, canceling subscriptions, and doing things that require a cell network, as I won't have easy access to one when we leave. Dinner with wine, and cheesecake for dessert, not enough visiting, and soon enough we couldn't keep our eyes open. 

1 Day Till Liftoff - January 7th

Feeling quite a bit better. No 2am wakeup, only 3 errands to run, and the rest of the day was ours. First, the lawyer. The bill of sale for Sea Fire had to be notarized and the house sale documents completed. Then a hair trim for me where I was able to hug a dear friend before leaving AND look like a functioning adult again. Then a stop at the bank (yes, again), liquor store (we filled up mom and dad's fridge, freezer, and pantry… it would be ridiculous if we didn't tend to the liquor cabinet), Home Depot, gas station, car wash, and then mom and dad's. So much for only 3 stops. 

Time to pack and repack our luggage, trying to find a way to fit only 50lbs into each of the 4 checked pieces of luggage. Laundry done and clothes vacuum sealed (thank you Angela!), and a final edit of our things (no pillow…sigh) and everything (mostly) squeaked into the weight limit. We sealed it up and loaded it into the car. After cleaning up the disaster we made it was time for wine, supper, and conversation. Dad and Jean sat in the Subaru in the driveway going through the car's features as they are adopting the Subaru.

They are thinking of getting a vanity plate with SEAFIRE2. We wholeheartedly support this. 

Another not-long-enough evening of conversation and connection and its time for bed.

The Day Has Come

A too-short sleep and we are eating breakfast and packing the car. We are pressured to bring a bag of cookies (it didn't take much) and its time to roll out. A teary-eyed goodbye and then off to check in. 

The next obstacle we see is customs, where our one-way tickets could cause a problem with the Americans. But first, security. 

With all our lithium rechargeable devices, a marine emergency locator beacon (EPIRB) and co2 cartridges for our life jackets in our carry-ons, we knew there could be an issue. Every attempt was made to prevent it, even with calling West Jet to get clearance and ensure our devices would be fine (we were assured there would be no issue). And of course, there was a issue with the co2. Jean ended up discussing the issue with the security team (calmly and with good humor) for 20 minutes while they checked regulations and called a WestJet employee over, finally letting us through. 

In the customs line we discussed for the third time how we were going to approach the issue of our one-way tickets, settling on the tactic of answer what is asked and only speak when spoken to. We were prepared with out bill of sale for the boat and a letter from our broker stating the details of our departure from the US. 

At the desk, the agent asked why we were here, and we said we were moving on board our new boat. She raised her eyes in a “oh neat!” Expression and said “ok have a great day”. Delightfully anticlimactic. 

Then, and finally, the short and uneventful flight. I slept, Jean listened to an audio book, and I don't think anyone noticed if a few tears were shed when eating homemade peanut butter cookies. I see the ocean and I am finally, incredibly excited.

Now we are en route to our hotel in Connecticut and tomorrow we move on board.