Married three weeks and two days today!
Having a wonderful time sailing through the Bahamas, but the first several days (one spent crossing the Gulf Stream, and another crossing to the first of two deserted islands) were just awful. I have not been nauseous and sick like that since I was pregnant with Cuyler. Usually Chris and I sail on a Catamaran, but this is a regular sail boat that heels, which means it tilts all the way to one side. That one side is basically in the water, and the other side is way up in the air. I just laid on the deck with my eyes closed holding on for dear life and alternately praying not to die and then to PLEASE DIE because I was soooo sick. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I never put sunscreen on and the result, I think, is at least a 1st degree burn. I think this because I got it on Monday and it PEELED on Wednesday. My eyebrows peeled. I peeled into my hairline. My eyelids are peeling. The skin around my nose and on my checks just comes off in rolls. Oh yes. Sailing is my thing! Want to look like a leather handbag? Take up sailing. Just look what it”s done for Suzy!
Hmm, what else? Nearly broke my toe and the bone behind my right ear (which I think used to protect what’s left of my brain), helping to raise the dingy last night. I was pulling with all my might, sans shoes — again — and I slipped and scraped my right foot on a big, fat, bright, shiny, grooved metal wire, and whacked my head against the bench on the deck. Day before that, Chris and I got caught in a lightening and rain storm in the damn dingy which had decided to crap out quite a way from shore. I’m sitting in the middle of the dingy, on one arm, and Chris is in the back, near the engine, and as he’s pulling (nothing happens) and pulling (nothing happens) and PULLING (and STILL NOTHING IS HAPPENING), I’m so focused on the lightening and rain that I don’t realize I’m too close to him and, of course, on the next GOD DAMN THIS THING! pull, his hand slips right off the cord and punches me square in the face. I go flying backwards, almost into the water but I don’t hit the water because he grabs a) me, b) my $350 Robert Marc sunglasses that I bought as a gift to myself when I turned 40 that I was still, for some bizarre reason, wearing, and c) my favorite “Fish Naked” cap fast as, well, lightening. About five minutes after that, we were rescued by a gigantic man who motored up, hollering, “I’m tryin’ to enjoy my brie and crackers, when I look up and see ya’ll flailin’ around out here.” So of course we apologized for interrupting his snack and thanked him for pulling us to the dock where Chris took apart the engine and the fuel tank and fixed the whole shebang so we could get our sorry, soggy asses back to our boat. And drink. A lot.
On a lighter note, Deb and Tom, the incredible couple hosting us on our Band-Aid, Dramamine, lightening, and dead dingy-filled honeymoon, are two of the nicest people in the world. They’ve taught me how to play poker and I’ve thanked them by beating them several times (beginner’s luck, no doubt), and can cook like nobody’s business. It’s like eating at a five-star restaurant every night. Which is really great because, after tossing my cookies all day, I’m really hungry.