I had spent about 10 months in Southeast Asia, rotating between Malaysia and Indonesia with occasional stops in Singapore. By now I was looking forward to some cooler weather and being home for the holidays but first, I needed to make a stop in Fiji on my way home.
It had been one year since leaving SV Sierra Wind in Fiji and almost just as long since seeing Eitan. He had spent the year first working as a medic, then working on a super yacht in the Mediterranean, building up his bank account. After spending almost every second of every day with him for two years, sailing from San Diego to Fiji, it was strange transitioning to life without him. Since we were together all the time, communicating over the phone was never part of our routine and we often forgot to keep in touch, not to mention the different time zones making it even more difficult. We would go weeks and months without speaking at all, until one day, he gave me the news that I had been dreading to hear: he had a new girlfriend.
I’ve mentioned before that my and Eitan’s relationship was a bit untraditional in that we never planned to be together forever. We shared a common short-term goal of sailing around the world but eventually he wanted to start a family. In our year apart, I knew it was a real possibility that he could meet someone with whom he could see a longer-term future, thus ending our short-term relationship. And, it finally happened.
As much as I want to blame the entire thing on Eitan, a part of me knew that when I left Fiji at the end of 2022, I was also leaving my life on SV Sierra Wind. It’s difficult to describe but sometimes, the body knows well before the mind. When we first sailed into Fiji, I felt what can only be described as a deep sense of morning. I knew this cruising life, as I had known it, was coming to an end and grew increasingly emotional and nostalgic. When Eitan flew out and I was left in Vuda Marina for two weeks by myself, I spent a lot of it crying, having some kind of sixth sense that it was also the last days of my and Eitan’s relationship. I wasn’t just sad at the end of us, but really sad that I hadn’t enjoyed this wonderful adventure more, having wasted too much of my energy on anxiety. I wished that I had been more present to take it all in and enjoy it to the last drop instead of worrying about the weather. A lesson I still struggle with.
In our year separated, Eitan and I had also grown apart. I can’t speak much to his changes but I know that I certainly wasn’t the same person that left Fiji a year ago. I had a year’s worth of new experiences, new places, and new friendships. From my brief stint on SV Kismet I realized that my sailing anxiety may never go away, but in my time planting corals I learned that I can love and appreciate the ocean in a whole new way. I felt like I was leaving Southeast Asia with a new network of people interested in marine conservation and was making progress toward some kind of dream. In some ways, returning to cruising on SV Sierra Wind felt like a step backward, to an old life.
As I was looking at flights home from Indonesia, I saw that I could have a 10-hour layover in Fiji with minimal extra cost and I felt like it was a sign to close that chapter. So, I packed up my things at Tevana and made the 5-hour car ride to the airport, then flew to Singapore, then to Fiji, arriving in the late morning. Luckily I still had some Fijian cash in my wallet and could easily cover the taxi fare to the marina and the driver agreed to pick me up around 6 PM, giving me a few hours to sort through my stuff, repack it, and grab lunch.
Arriving at Vuda Marina and pulling up to the boat was like déjà vu as I unloaded my bags under the boat. After finding a ladder, I made my way up into the cockpit and unlocked the companionway. My feelings of nostalgia were quickly interrupted by the dusty air and stench of mold. Despite the constant air conditioning and fans running, the inside felt very dirty and my feet crunched on the old bug carcasses from the newer spider residents. It felt like every surface of the boat was covered in a layer of spider webs and dirt, possibly from the air conditioner taking air from the dusty shipyard.
I began going through the boat and pulling out anything I wanted to take home. Unfortunately, my vacuumed-packed clothes had too much moisture in them when I packed them and they, smelled quite bad. I set them in the donation pile by the office and the cleaning ladies working nearby quickly snatched them up. It didn’t take long to sort through everything and I moved my stuff down to ground level before strategically packing them in a way that could allow me to avoid any extra baggage fees.
Afterward, I went to lunch at the restaurant and took a walk around the marina. One year ago, I spent two full weeks here and it was easy to notice which boats had left and which were new. I recognized a few boats including SV Flight Deck who we met during the Baja Haha, SV Jams who we met in Fakarava, and a couple of others. I also saw they added new bathroom and laundry facilities to the shipyard which was a huge win, remembering all the times I had to complete for a washing machine or waited for the dryer to be fixed.
By 6 PM, I had my bags packed and I sat up in the cockpit, one last time, waiting for the taxi to arrive as the sun approached the horizon. My eyes glossed over with tears reflecting on all the memories. How many days had I watched the sunset on this boat from this exact seat? How many hours had Eitan and I spent sitting here eating a meal, having a drink with friends, reading a book, or just playing chess? How many times did I sit clipped into the cockpit on passage, praying we would arrive safely and feeling relief when we always did? The good, the bad, the anxious, and the unforgettable… SV Sierra Wind was there for it all and I was immensely grateful to this boat and everything it had given, delivering us safely to every destination.
Change is never easy, and saying goodbye certainly isn’t either, especially knowing this was the last time I would likely see this hunk of brown canvas and fiberglass. As the taxi pulled up, I ran downstairs and hugged the mast in the middle of the salon, thanking the boat for those two amazing years. I locked up the companionway as I wiped the tears from my eyes and climbed back down the ladder. Goodbye, old girl.
