A Day on Bushranger

30 Jun

I have been remiss – all I’ve talked about on this journey through the South is what we’ve seen…and that’s not an accurate picture of what this ‘looping’ is about. Today I will rectify that oversight…


There is no movement, not a rock or a sway, as the sun breaks the horizon. Bushranger is the only one awake; there is no annoying swell or slap from passing boats. Even the crickets and frogs haven’t figured out that it’s morning, for they’re still singing their scratchy song full of clicks and bellows – a lovely counterpoint to the quiet hum and throb of Bushranger’s engine. She slices through the river, breaking the glassy surface, leave a trail of swells and bubbles that dissipates almost as soon as it’s created.

There’s no breeze yet – the sun hasn’t warmed the earth enough to motivate the wind…but there’s the promise of heat that’s just out of reach, so we know to enjoy the cool while it’s here. The smells of Bushranger, old fabric mixed with a hint of coffee and diesel, linger in the back of my nose and are soon displaced with a sweet surprise of passing honeysuckle and magnolia. As Bushranger’s path nears the ocean, a salty smell mixes with the scent of the river, ensuring we understand that we are certainly not stationary.

As the sun rises, the heat begins to nudge us into shelter – behind sunglasses, hats and sunshades. The salty smell is not simply emanating from the distant ocean – it’s right under our noses, in the form of glistening sweat. But, not to worry, for the breeze understands and occasionally blesses us with its presence, softly lifting the heat off our arms and legs, playfully rearranging the hair hanging below our hats.

Other boats come to play, erasing the tranquility and replacing it with the challenge of the ultimate ‘game of chicken’ – who’s going to move over first, and will their wake be enough to distract me from my typing, and will it make me reassess if all the paraphernalia in the kitchen (I know…IT’S A GALLEY!) is truly secure enough to keep from crashing to the floor. Oh, yeah, I’m getting very good at securing my toys…


The day precedes.  Boyd does the navigation planning while I drive, then I bake some bread and biscotti while he drives.  We get a rhythm that seems to work.

As the sun starts to descend behind us, the next stop-over marina is in sight. Someday, maybe, I’ll describe what it’s like to dock Bushranger, but not today. I think this blog entry is long enough…

6 Responses to “A Day on Bushranger”

  1. rodcrobinson June 30, 2015 at 17:30 #

    Wow what a sunrise!!!

  2. jdepodwin July 1, 2015 at 08:03 #

    Absolutely awesome entry!!! One of your best yet! Your choice of words creates a beautiful picture. I didn’t even need the photos this time. I could see it all in my mind.

  3. Barbie Robinson July 4, 2015 at 08:43 #

    Oh LynnAnne, pure poetry!! That photo and poetry has to go straight into your book :)) So many gifts you have! Another gift is your expertise in the kitchen. Boyd’s so lucky that you are a good cook and can bake fresh bread!!! The early morning sounds so peaceful on the water :)) ❤ Lotsa love, xoxoxooxoxox

    • MrsBushranger July 4, 2015 at 08:45 #

      Thank you Barbie! I actually decided I liked what I said in that blog entry so much that I turned it into a poem for my other blog whatdoyareckon.wordpress.com

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