Closing the Wake: A Season That Changed Us
- Oct 29, 2024
- 3 min read
Updated: Jan 8
On October 18th, we packed up for our final adventure of the 2024 sailing season; our short but meaningful journey from the yacht club to winter storage. We arrived at the club the night before, knowing we had an early start ahead of us. I t felt strange walking the docks and seeing most of the boats already on the hard, wrapped and tucked away, all in varying stages of winterization. Only three boats remained in the slips—quiet rebels holding on to summer just a little longer.
By morning, we were one of the very last boat to leave.
As we prepared to cast off at first light, club members were already there, dismantling slips and quite literally putting the club to sleep for the winter. It felt ceremonial in a way; like closing a well-loved book, knowing the story isn’t over, just paused.
When we pulled away from the dock, I felt a mix of things I didn’t quite expect. Gratitude, pride, relief… and a deep readiness to close the season. Or at least I was ready. Tom, I think, would have happily squeezed out a few more days, maybe even weeks, if Mother Nature would allow it.
I was tired in a way that only a full summer can make you tired. Not the kind of exhaustion a good night’s sleep fixes, but the kind that settles into your bones and asks politely, but firmly, for a long winter’s nap.
As the miles passed, my mind wandered back through the season. Racine still feels like home in a way that surprised me. Charlevoix stole a piece of my heart entirely, I still catch myself daydreaming about one of those waterfront houses, with Agra2 tied up just outside. We were incredibly privileged to have this adventure, storms and squalls and soggy days included. I could happily do without the rough weather, but even those moments taught us something.
My one true regret came from a place of love. When my oldest was hurt, something shifted in me. The rhythm of take our time, smell the roses turned into get home to my girl. If I could do it again, if circumstances were different. I would have slowed us down. Another week or two in places I loved like Middle Bass Island and Presqu’ile. More time with family in Hamilton, Trenton, and Picton.
But that’s life, isn’t it?
You do the best you can with the moment you’re in.
Somewhere along this journey, without much fanfare, something changed inside me.
I went from being the wife who came along because she didn’t think her husband should sail alone… to someone who can sail, and wants more of it. I learned I could live on a boat without being miserable (a revelation, truly). I learned I could live with far less than I ever thought possible. I learned patience, adaptability, and how to be okay, even in places where cell service disappears and you’re left alone with the water, the sky, and yourself.
The closer we got to Iroquois, the more closure I felt. Reflection came easily then. I thought about reconnecting with Tom in ways everyday life doesn’t always allow. About the joy of seeing him truly happy, grounded, and not weighed down by his mental health struggles. That alone made every mile worth it.
My heart felt full.
We made good time and arrived a day early, skipping our planned stop at Brockville Yacht Club and heading straight to Iroquois. And yet, when Agra2 was finally lifted from the water, my heart cracked just a little. Seeing her suspended there made it official—summer was over.
Now it’s time to rest. Time to dream quietly about future adventures. Maybe not right away, I think I’ve earned a long nap. A good book by the fire. Hot chocolate. Stillness.
This season gave us more than miles traveled. It gave us confidence, connection, and memories that will carry us through the winter and beyond.
Until next year, fair winds. 💙
Epilogue
As we step away from the docks and into winter, I know this season will stay with us. Not just in the places we visited or the miles we logged, but in the way it changed us. In the storms we weathered, the calm mornings that felt like gifts, the laughter shared in cockpits and marinas, and the quiet moments when the water held us steady. This summer taught me that adventure doesn’t require perfection, only willingness. Willingness to try, to learn, to trust, and sometimes to let go. Agra2 gave us more than a journey; she gave us confidence, reconnection, and a deeper appreciation for the life we’re building together.
And while the sails are down and the season has ended, the dream is very much alive, resting, waiting, and ready for when we are. ⚓
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