With Leslie’s story of drama, intrigue and medical intervention, you might be asking: “What about Sonrisa!? How did she handle all of this?” And this is a very important question to ask! Because I will admit, sailboats need a lot of love and attention. You can’t always leave us alone. We get nervous and scared, we start to worry no one loves us, and some of us have a tendency to start eating ourselves alive from the inside out. We start nit picking at things like a human might pick at a hangnail until we’ve peeled the paint off our own hull, the engine isn’t working properly anymore, and the stitches on an old sail are about to blow. I will also admit that sometimes we can be very efficient at maneuvers like these. The span of one week can be plenty of time to wreak all sorts of havoc. But would I do something like that?
Maybe.
But, not this time.
I knew something was a miss when Leslie spent the whole night pacing and rummaging through the medical chest for something, anything that might make her feel better. We scrolled through WebMD for hours upon hours. When she collected a bag and dragged Andrew out the door by 7:30 a.m., I knew it must be bad. So, I bobbed here waiting all day long. I could see Grin pulled high on the beach, tied to a tree. I kept my eye on him, but he was well entertained by the bevy of tourists trying to “rent him” for the day. As the sun set and it got dark, only then did I start to worry. “Where are they? Where? Are they coming back?” I count longtail boats to distract myself until around 9:30 p.m., I see Grin being pushed back into the water. Andrew climbs aboard and zooms back to my hull, alone.
“Where is Leslie?” I ask.
“Team meeting!” Andrew says. So, he gathers the whole team: the Guard Dragon from Komodo, Louise, the Comfort Critters Osmond and Tasman, Sergio the Parrot, Sully the Black Cat, Grin, Kitty and Myself. “Leslie is in the hospital for a couple days. She has had surgery, and now she needs time to recover. I’d like Osmond and Tasman to come back to the hospital with me. Louise, you hold down the fort. Grin and Kitty, you are going to have to hang out on the beach at the Smoothie Shack. Sonrisa….?”
“Not to worry, Captain!” I deliver this with all the confidence I can muster. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’d really appreciate that. You’re sure?”
”Yes,” I say. “Just close all my through hulls and take down my shade sails so I don’t have much windage pushing on me if a storm comes through.”
Andrew agrees both these ideas are good, and should be sufficient to keep me from really major troubles like dragging anchor or (gulp!) sinking. Besides, Panawa Beach is protected from all the wind angles that could be bad during this wind season, the bottom is well holding sand, and it doesn’t seem to be too busy with boats who might accidentally pull up my anchor with some action or another of mischief. I will be fine for a few days.
So, the next morning, Andrew closes up and leaves me to settle to myself and wonder how things are going on their end. I’m not too worried. At this point, I already know this is that small part of Leslie made of mushy bananas and newspaper that I have no choice but to tolerate. I’ve long had to accept that I cannot be the only woman in my Captain’s life who needs love and some manner of refit every now and then. I am comfortable with this, because I know that if Andrew had to choose between us, he’d pick me. But, he also enjoys Leslie’s company, and I want my Captain to be happy. Leslie’s all right.
But, it is strange. Whenever I am needing a bit of refit, it’s like she gets jealous of all the time Andrew spends thinking about me, and then suddenly she feels like she needs a refit, too. I learned this back in 2013-2014 when we first met. I’ll tell you that story, next.
