(This post was written prior to Hurricane Harvey hitting Texas. Ed and I would like to pay tribute to everyone living through the devastation and trauma of such massive flooding and destruction)

It is with a hefty sprinkling of embarrassment and pinch of guilt that I am here writing my last post after failing to close out Skylark's blog in a clean, definitive way. I dropped it without ceremony or fanfare, an anemic "end" to what had been my sustenance during our cruising years. The blog deserved better. I started posting in 2011 immediately after moving onto Skylark fulltime. We heard from many of you who enjoyed following us and were always pleased to know you were out there witnessing our journey. Your support and enthusiasm was genuinely appreciated. Sometime after becoming a land dweller I posted a sort-of, sort-of-not goodbye post. But it wasn't really the last one. You knew it, I knew it; everyone who followed Skylark's blogs as faithfully as I posted them knew it. It was merely a pause button that ran its course, continuing its silence until the batteries ran dead. Pitiful. Why has it has taken me so long to write a legitimate farewell post? I have no real excuse but it felt undone, an unwritten chapter to a deserving story. I simply found it impossible to do this until Skylark found another home.

I am now ready to turn the lights out on Skylark's blog and say goodnight.
There may be no one left to read this, everyone having moved on to other blogs. If anyone is out there, perhaps you'll forgive my neglect and read one last time. At any rate, this is the end for Skylark and her family of three. A man, a woman and a dog. Three in a boat. Skylark is moving on to a new owner, a couple who will undoubtedly love and care for her in the manner to which she's been accustomed. We are saying goodbye, formally and properly with gratitude for all we've encountered and all Skylark has offered us.

What do I say in closing? I think it is simply "thank you". For the opportunity to live our dream, witness remarkable sights and meet extraordinary people (some of whom will be lifelong friends), to have learned to live simply, resourcefully, and independently. We faced insecurities, anxieties, fear, and adrenaline spikes not of the fun kind. We encountered nature as friend and foe, sometimes in the same breath. Often in the same breath. We became intimate with creatures of the sea, trees, earth. Time served itself up in packages unrecognizable from our previous lives, such as how long before a squall would clip our wings, how many minutes before a tanker crossed our bow without threat of collision, how many miles before running low on diesel, water or daylight. There were the usual cruising-on-a-sailboat questions as well, such as where to wash clothes, buy food, find the best rum (oh yeah) and whether a bright moon would guide us on a long night passage or the stars provide entertainment instead. We worked hard, played hard, and loved each other throughout, deepening our mutual respect with every challenge we faced together. Luna tolerated everything with the spirit of a good sport. What's not to love about a dog like Luna? I am proud of what we accomplished, wistful about the dreams we didn't realize, filled with admiration for the abundant skills of my captain. He was remarkably patient and responsive to my needs and I hope he would say the same about me. I believe he would. I admit to being surprised by how seldom I was afraid and how adaptable we both were when life threw obstacles in our path. Who knew? Life at sea was sometimes outside our comfort zone and yet it was instinctive, as if we were born to have an experience precisely like the one we had.

We do not look back with regret but we do look back. I hope we always do, remaining cognizant of the fact that adventures are often waiting at our feet, dreams are worthy of exploring even if not as envisioned and sacrifice is a necessary ingredient for creating what's important. The world is packed to the gills with opportunity to test our resilience and strength while surrendering the arrogant belief that we ever control nature. We can deepen our understanding of the world around us and create awe-struck moments when we realize life is an eternal supply of full-eclipse experiences that take our breath away. Because it is.

So that's it. Thank you, Skylark for taking such fine care of our little family. It's time to protect your new owners who are excited to have found you, providing them with all it takes to realize one's vision. You will never be far from our hearts.