A Girl Named Leney

THE JOURNAL

Posts tagged A Boat Story
Tumblehome | Camping In Maine

The first of many adventures under the Tumblehome name.

This road trip up to Maine with Una and my Father, The Sailor, and our puppy named Huck, was one of the highlights of my Summer.
Camping on islands, early morning foggy sails, food cooked over a fire, drinks and stories shared with new friends, refreshing (ie: frigid) afternoon swims, shell-rock-driftwood collecting and quality time with one of my favorite people in the world all captured a mood and feeling of simplicity, intention, and that not-so-elusive-after-all slow living mindset I am always chasing after.

See more photos from our trip by following us over on our Instagram

To Your River

Been traveling these wide roads for so long
My heart’s been far from you
Ten-thousand miles gone

Oh, I wanna come near and give ya
Every part of me
But there is blood on my hands
And my lips aren’t clean

In my darkness I remember
Momma’s words reoccur to me
"Surrender to the good Lord
And he’ll wipe your slate clean"

Take me to your river
I wanna go
Oh, go on
Take me to your river
I wanna know

Tip me in your smooth waters
I go in
As a man with many crimes
Come up for air
As my sins flow down the Jordan

Oh, I wanna come near and give ya
Every part of me
But there is blood on my hands
And my lips aren’t clean

Take me to your river
I wanna go
Go on,
Take me to your river
I wanna know

I wanna go, wanna go, wanna go
I wanna know, wanna know, wanna know
Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go
Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know
Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go
Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know

Take me to your river
I wanna go
Lord, please let me know
Take me to your river
I wanna know


—River by Leon Bridges

A Winter Sail

A crisp overnight sail.
Listening to The Replacements, drinking beer-then-whiskey, "I don't think Morrissey cares about French girls", knitting in the cockpit, stuffing over-layered limbs into sleeping bags and underneath piled high blankets and watching the night progress and move behind and around a lone lit lantern with a kind of enrapture and attentiveness that can only come from being in the warm belly of a boat on a winters night out on the open water.

A Boat Story | Luna

This is a story about a boat.
We drove all the way to Mattawan Michigan for her, and then we brought her back. 
I feel overly fortunate to be able to say that I consider both of my parents to be some of my very best friends. This road trip with my Dad in particular is home now to some of my favorite times with him that are going to be hard to beat to be honest.
Discovering an abandoned Airstream trailer (post with photos forthcoming) during our trip was of course a highlight and culprit to intensifying my Airstream dream, and there was a stop at a yarn shop (no surprise there). But those experiences aside, there's very little that means more to me than just simply being with the people I love and doing life with them, in whatever way it's presented to us. Whether it's having coffee on their back porch, dancing our feet off wherever there's good music (or even when there's not), sitting at a kitchen counter talking while they cook (because we all know my cooking skills leave much to be desired) or sitting shotgun in a truck for twelve hours.

On the first day of the road trip we passed a sailboat off the highway that was sitting in a yard and on her transom was the name Moon Dust. I wrote it down because I loved it so much.
I'm forever making notes and lists and scribbles of words/phrases/lyrics/sentences I like. 
But it must've stuck somehow because on the way home, as we were brainstorming the name for her, I couldn't get Luna out of my head.
And so it just sort of came out. 
And it just sort of stuck.
So Luna she was christened. 
(Not to be confused with Una of course, her sister)

The day after getting home I realized how attached I already was to her. Perhaps it was because I helped name her, and as humans we often get so attached to the things we name, or perhaps it's because of the journey and the memories along the way in retrieving her.
I'm not really questioning it though, whatever the reason.
She's going to be a great new adventure. 
Even her old name, Andiamo, which is "Go" in Italian, speaks to a spirit of adventure and seeking out and discovering new waters and places unseen that I think she already embodies.


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Adventures | Sailing Una

Meet Una.

She's the product of my father, the sailor's, hands.
He built her in a garage in the suburbs of Richmond over a ten month period.
And, if it means anything to you, she's a Iain Oughtred Sooty Tern. A double-ended yawl, sporting a balanced lug main and bermuda mizzen.
Her name means pure, holy, feminine and single (one).
She's Scottish/Gaelic/Norse in her origin.  

In my father's words she was "a labor of love, a commitment to a dream and a promise of adventure".
(You can see where I get a bit of that wanderlust soul from...) 
Seeing how proud he's been of this boat and how happy it's made him in the building and completion of it has been one of the highlights of my year.

We took her out for an overnight adventure last month and it was, simply put, one of the top ten best experiences of my life.
(I can actually list these experiences for you too... if you don't believe me)
I will treasure this time and the memories made during this brief but wonderful trip for forever and always.

My father is one of the people I adore and most look up to in this world and while this experience is one I hold very dear to my heart, I hesitated sharing it here because of it's sacredness.
However, I wanted the opportunity to showcase his wonderful talent and to give his beautiful creation the spotlight it deserves.

As I've stated before, being on a boat makes you look outward and there's a special kind of soul searching that happens when you're surrounded by all that blue.
There's also a kind of serenity that comes with it that's not easy to find these days.
It's something that neither words or pictures can really fully express.
You just have to experience it for yourself.

///////////

If you're so inclined, and understand such ruminations (or simply have an appreciation for them), you can read my father's blog on the building of Una

here

.

Adventures | Tangier Island

Tangier Island is a tiny little place in the Chesapeake Bay.

The population is less than a thousand and the true natives speak in a unique english like accent that is pretty unmistakeable and something thats super neat to hear. They also primarily drive golf carts, or scooters as there's no real need for cars on such a small piece of land. 

Milton (as seen in the last photo) is the keeper of the Marina and has quite a lot of cool stories to tell if you happen to run into him and have time to chat for a bit. He was on the island before they had electricity and was among the first graduating class of the local high school. 

(Quite an accomplishment to be sure)

It's definitely a cool place to wander around and explore, which you can do in less than an hour or so since the whole island is only about a mile long!

P.s. There are also

a lot

of cats.

So there's that too.