I'll admit to a few sleepless moments over the past week, as my mind refuses rest from the long list of new considerations that come with the new boat.
There are a few kinds of doubt that come with an enterprise like this.
First, there is the powerful doubt of the boat shopping period, as the potential downsides of candidate boats are plumbed and considered. I'm well over that now - I'm comfortable with the bet we've made on Taiko, even though I realize that the days will come (hopefully infrequently) when I say to Alisa, "Why did we buy this boat?"
Then there's the doubt that comes with sailing across the Pacific, again, with such young children. We'll have the huge benefit of experience this time around, and of course if we weren't fundamentally satisfied with our ability to do the trip safely we wouldn't consider it. But still, there will be a part of me that will be on guard and tense until the crossing is through.
But the really big doubt, I find, comes from the big picture stuff. How are we going to make this all work financially with the expense of such a big boat to maintain and no secure income? How does all this galavanting around in our thirties and forties not end with us working retail jobs in our sixties? Are we going to be able to support our kids properly with this haven't-had-a-job-since-2007 model of existence?
This is the source of one of my favorite axioms: true freedom comes when you have no choice. Meaning that someone who is completely caught up in whatever passion has grabbed them will have little time to spare for these doubts, and will be free to pursue their chosen adventure single-mindedly. It's an idea that is economically expressed by the shrugs that a couple of our French friends give when they say things like, "It was my dream, so it is how I have to live."
We're not at all so single-minded about sailing that we can pursue it with no thought to alternatives. But we love living on a boat and sailing far and wide, and (touch wood) we've been able to pay for it over the last three years, even though we left Kodiak with just some savings and no idea at all of what would happen down the line. And that's really the biggest consolation for my doubts - the knowledge that you can never know how an adventure will turn out before you go - you just have to jump, and have a bit of faith that things will work out.
Which is enough for me.
Some snapshots from this period of waiting between agreeing to buy the boat and taking possession:
Previous anonymous hotel room.
Current anonymous hotel room.
And the list of boat jobs begins to grow!