lily is dying, i need help. later, i called them from sacramento, saying i'm running late, can you feed and walk maisie, can you turn on my lights? we shared books, dvds, meals, wine, tea, job tips, laughter, tears, hugs, everything. and just like that, it's gone.
at first, it was like tearing a band-aid off slowly, and then suddenly, quickly, almost everyone was gone. every time someone i knew left, i tried to be there to wave, because everyone needs to be waved to as they leave for their new life. sometimes i succeeded, sometimes i didn't. every single time i cried as i waved goodbye. and now it is lonely, and almost empty, and quiet, and sad. i cry every day, even if it's just for a minute, and then i go back to being strong. i want to leave, and i don't want to leave. there are reasons i can't. yet.
when i first met b&d, they said that pete's wasn't a real community compared to other marinas. they're cruisers, and they go from marina to marina, and so they've seen more than i have. but i told them they were wrong, and after they heard a little about just a couple of days on my dock, they said i was really lucky, it wasn't like that on their dock. i haven't lived in other marinas, i've lived in the same slip on the same dock for over four years, and i can only talk about what i know. i want to tell you a little about liveaboards, about my neighbors, those on my dock, as well as the people i got to know on other docks as save pete's harbor began and grew and worked together. about this community that greed and corruption and selfishness and thoughtlessness destroyed. i hope you will bear with me while i do. i am heartbroken, and i am hoping this will help heal my heart. i need to write it down, so i don't forget how lucky i have been. and i want you to know how wonderful living on a boat is. despite this nightmare we have found ourselves in, i wouldn't trade the past four years for anything. buying a boat and moving aboard it was the best decision i've ever made.