True voyaging
And it begins. After flying to Florida two days ago for the sole reason of grabbing my little three cylinder Metro, charts from Maine to Florida, an EPIRB, a sextant, tables, books, all my tools and a few other essentials, I leave tomorrow. It's going to be a 1,355 mile solo road trip without a working radio, air conditioning, functioning windows or locking doors. I'll be driving up to Watch Hill, RI, where she (my small yacht I have yet to choose a name for) is waiting, at a maximum speed of 60 miles per hour. The car is 19 years old and handles like a skateboard, as well as for fuel economy. This is a voyage and from now on, I'm on a budget. It's the name of the game, stretching every last dollar to maximize my freedom. Because for ever $15 or so dollars I can save, it equates to one less hour I have to spend making someone else money. I suppose I've been "voyaging" ever since I left the desk job, or purchased Winchelsea or wherever you'd want to ...