On the Hook
08 February 2016
February 6, 2016
I remember, now, why I love being on the hook. It's the way the light changes, slowly, subtly, from harsh sun to a warm dusk. The sun drops down low in the sky. The changing hue reflects across the buildings along the shore. Then night falls, the sky turns black and the stars pop out one by one. The moon, this evening, is lazy and won't rise for several more hours. It's not just about the visual, watching the light change, but the sensual, physical, feeling of it – in every cell of my body – as the intensity changes. While this occurs, the boat sways with the waves and the breeze is slightly cooler. Eventually, I find my way to bed and lie there, soothed by the rocking, just like when I was a child.
Then, as morning arrives, I awaken early. Sleepily, I find my way back to the cockpit to watch the sun rise. It is seven but still dark because we are the furthest point west in the Central time zone. I see the moon has risen. It is a but a sliver with the bright glow of Jupiter shining by its side. It is still in the east and I watch as the sun tries to catch the moon. It never does. Slowly, the sun beams shades of pink over the horizon. The air is soft. All is quiet but for the roosters and a few pangas; fisherman on their way to work.
It is in this stillness that I find serenity. All the clutter that clouds my mind drifts away. Now clear, new thoughts arise. Sparks of creativity awaken within my soul, while nature gently encourages me to find my natural rhythm.
For me, being on the hook is meditative. A rejuvenation. A gift that I cherish.
On Tuesday, February 2nd, we left Paradise Village Marina for La Cruz where we stayed for a couple of days. Then, on Friday, February 5th, we took Cadenza for a long, lovely sail to Punta de Mita and stayed on the hook overnight. On the way back to Paradise Village, two Humpback whales came alongside our boat and breached.