Countdown to Departure: A Month of Chaos, Progress & Heartbeats

Hi Boat Besties! Welcome back aboard Agra2.

If the last few weeks had a theme, it would be: “How are we this close already?”

Because somehow, time has accelerated, the to-do list has grown barnacles, and we are now officially days away from leaving on our East Coast sailing adventure.

And if I’m honest, I do not feel nearly ready enough.

The Countdown Becomes Real

We started this stretch with 39 days to go… then 31… then 25… and suddenly, in the time it takes to misplace a boat hook, we were down to single digits.

Every week has been a cocktail of excitement, nerves, and the kind of chaos only pre-departure boat life can deliver.

Boat Work: The Never-Ending Saga

Tom has been working nonstop on Agra2: wiring solar panels, cleaning the bilge, installing seacocks, prepping emergency gear, de-winterizing, fixing the isinglass on the enclosure, and tackling the glamorous world of bottom sanding and paint.

Add in the last-minute discovery of a mystery leak, a dinghy motor hose that cracked over the winter, and the ever-optimistic belief that if we fix enough things now, fewer things will try to mutiny during the trip.

Meanwhile, I’ve been oscillating between “We’ve got this!” and “Oh no, we are absolutely not ready.”

Walking onto the boat for the first time this winter was… overwhelming.

Tom had tools everywhere. Panels were off. Wires hung like spaghetti with a grudge.

My minimalist boat-life dreams were temporarily crushed beneath a very real layer of chaos.

But slowly, piece by piece, she is coming back together. With every panel reattached and every mystery solved, she looks a little more like a boat and a little less like a floating plot twist.

Splash Day: Dramatic, Chaotic, Perfectly Us

Splash day deserves its own chapter—cue ominous music.

The night before launch, we discovered that only one of the three seacocks was actually on board.

Cue my panic. Tom’s calm. My spiralling. His searching.

And then, eventually—thankfully—finding them.

Agra2 spent the night suspended on the crane while Tom painted the keel like a man possessed and the clock ticked louder than my nerves.

The next morning, running on very little sleep, we rushed back to the marina.

Tom installed the seacocks with minutes to spare, and my heart practically stopped as she was lowered into the water.

I have watched far too many sailing disaster videos, so I am convinced she will sink; only to be wildly relieved when she does not.

It did not help that we had just watched two boats get hauled back out after launching because of leaks.

Maybe after a few more splash days I will be calmer, but this is only our third summer sailing Agra2, and apparently my imagination still prefers full catastrophe.

Splash day didn’t go entirely without a hitch: the motor hiccupped.

Because of course it did.

Tom entered the slip with more determination than grace; and a little help from dockside.

I’m crossing my fingers it is a quick fix because, if it isn’t, this whole adventure may need a dramatic rewrite before we’ve even left the dock.

Provisioning: The Never-Ending Story

We have been stocking up on food like we are preparing for a small apocalypse at sea.

Cheese, trail mix, dog food, vitamins, all vacuum-sealed thanks to Tom’s enthusiasm for airtight bags and a level of provisioning energy that suggests we may survive until next century.

Storage has become a game of boat Tetris.

Cans in the bilge. Emergency snacks in the dinghy. Mystery storage under the V-berth we didn’t even know existed two weeks ago, now filled to the brim.

If there is one thing boat life teaches quickly, it is that every inch matters, and every forgotten compartment eventually reveals itself like a secret passage.

Every time I think we’re done, we remember something else.

Packing: An Olympic Event

Packing has been… a journey. A battle. A saga.

A phase of boat life I am deeply grateful to have mostly survived, well at least for this year.

If packing is an Olympic sport, I have no idea what unpacking would be.

Perhaps a nautical decathlon with emotional damage.

We are moving from an average-sized empty-nester home with a walk-in closet and a bathroom with double sinks into a small hanging locker and bureau with a single-sink bathroom.

I have moved the same items around the cabin at least three times.

Small-space living is an art form, and I am still learning the brushstrokes.

YouTube Dreams & Gimbal Nightmares

I have also been trying to learn how to use my phone gimbal so we can maybe—maybe—start Tom’s long-dreamed-of Agra2 YouTube channel.

My knees are rebelling against the ninja walk required for graceful footage.

Instead, my videos currently feel like they were filmed by a cinematographer channeling their inner Jack Sparrow.

Moving Aboard: The Moment Everything Shifted

We officially moved aboard this week.

A trailer full of gear, the outboard motor, and kayaks.

A car stuffed with food, clothes, and assorted odds and sods.

And another trailer load still waiting to be picked up.

And all too suddenly, everything feels a little too real, a lot too scary, and—if I’m honest—a little bit like the opening scene of an adventure film where no one yet knows what is waiting beyond the horizon.

The planner in me is screaming that I am not ready.

But ready or not, the tide is not waiting. And neither are we.

The Big Picture

When I look back at the last month, it feels as though we didn’t accomplish much.

But writing it all out makes me realize just how much we have done in such a short time.

We are inching closer in a hundred small ways, and that feels incredible.

Terrifying, exhilarating, and just mysterious enough to keep me awake at night.

But incredible all the same.

Until next time, Boat Besties, keep chasing calm waters and following your heart💙

Fair winds and following seas ⛵