I cried when we left the San Blas. There was a huge mixture of things that set me off: the sleepless night worrying about the upcoming passage and what a terrible mother I am to Kara; saying goodbye to Serendipity; seeing Kara say goodbye to Freddie (yet another boat friendship cut short) and feeling that our cruising days are over, for now we are delivering the boat to Sag Harbor. So I looked at the idyllic islands and cried. I gained perspective as my tears dried. First, we were well prepared for the passage. Our friend Brandt from Seattle had joined us to help bring the boat through the Caribbean, so we have an extra hand, who is a very good sailor, easy to get along with, eats any and doesn't get seasick. I had food in the fridge, so most of my work was already done. Dave, Kara and I took Sturgeron, so our Mal de Mer was unlikely. We had strapped down and protected all of our precious things. I couldn't get back the hours of sleep I missed, but at least I knew I was ready. Then I put my parenting worries on the scales, the day before I was a horrible mother (think Disney mother figures), but the months before that I was pretty good, so maybe the scales are tipped in my favor. I resolved to never give Kara schoolwork the day before we leave for a passage. She may be a week or so behind, but we aren't set on a strict schedule, so what does it matter? Saying goodbye to Serendipity was just plain hard. Just as we were leaving the islands I realized I forgot the frequency of the net we planned to check into. No problem I'll just call Anne and she will know it. She did, but then I realized in a few hours we would be out of range for this kind of help. No midnight chats or 2 AM commiserating about the lack of wind or too much wind. They gave us a video montage of our 17 months together, that I will always treasure. I love cruising and meeting all these new people, but I pay with goodbyes. Again the scales are tipped in my favor, but it hurts when the weight of goodbye lands in the pan. Kara had the double whammy of saying goodbye to Hugh and Anne, plus leaving her friend Freddie. Nine year old Freddie on Shiver became a fast friend, and for two weeks they were a good pair. Freddie would paddle up in his Kayak and take Kara off on an adventure. Or our salon would be transformed with Playmobil, Lego and a fort. To make things really nice, Dave and I liked Freddie's parents Red and Liz, so dinners with the two boats were easy. I hope Kara and Freddie will meet again, either they visiting us in New York, or we seeing them in London. I had the most trouble finding resolution to my final lament. Are our cruising days over, and are we more on a delivery type passage? In some ways this has been true since we decided to head through the Canal. We have been progressing to New York, but with stops and side trips. The San Blas were not on the way, but now our stops will be bumping us along to a new life. We plan to meander through the Chesapeake and maybe go up the Potomac and visit the other Washington, definitely not following the rum line. We have a timeline, and a date we wish to reach Sag Harbor, so maybe that is the difference. All I know is that in my mind things have shifted and I feel more tethers to a land life than cruising. That was the first hour of the 48 hours it took us to get from the San Blas to Isla Providencia. The other 47 hours were much happier. The sailing was exceptional. We sailed at between 45 and 100 degrees off the wind. This means things were comfortable down below, but we were still fast. The swell was six foot, but the frequency was kind, so there was no slamming. Kara and I felt great, Dave is still on medication for his banged up knee, so he didn't have an iron stomach. Dave wanted me to call this entry �"Mama said there'd be days like this, too�" because a sail like this will make any armchair sailor put on foullies and brave the wind and waves. Once again I feel the scales are tipped in my favor.