Surprises, Superstitions, and Supplies

Kelly was waiting for me at the station in Charleston as he’d said, having had business in the city that evening anyway.  He was taller than I expected I noticed as he unfolded himself from the little hard chairs in the waiting room.  I guessed 6’1” and not too gangly either.   His shoulders looked broader seeing him now,  standing straight and reaching for my hand, rather than slightly slumped in repose the way he always was when we chatted on line.  I was glad he didn’t try to hug me.  We were going to have some type of close relationship in the near future, sure, and it might be one that involved a friendly hug now and then, but I appreciated his awareness that this was not yet that future.

“You really came then,” Kelly said in greeting, relieving my fears he would have one of those creepy, weak handshakes. “ There was a small part of me that wondered if you change your mind at the last minute.  This is quite the leap of faith you are taking I realize.” He hefted my bags from where I dropped them to shake his hand as I laughed aloud.  

“You don’t know me that well yet then.  This is right up my alley.  I wasn’t kidding when I told you about all the places I’ve lived you know.”  

Kelly’s smile was warm and sincere, “Well I knew you were impressive, and now I know you are truly brave.  I am really glad to finally meet you and to welcome you briefly to South Carolina.”  I blushed a little and broke eye contact.

 It always feels weird hear people use such compliments on me, I don’t think I am all that impressive.  And brave?  No way, I was scared to death every time I made one of my crazy decisions or moves.  I didn’t know him well enough to argue with him yet though, so I let it slide.  We headed toward where I could see my bike being unloaded from the train.  As we walked back toward the station doors, he told me of his plans for the evening and following day.  

I would be staying aboard the sailboat for the next two weeks getting us ready to get underway and becoming acquainted with her while Kelly stayed  at his house closing things up there.   It would be nice to have a little time transitioning before he moved on board and we departed.   I was thrilled to see my new home and begin my stay aboard her immediately.  

 I told him so and put emphasis on calling the boat only my new home. I gave a dramatic sigh and Kelly laughed, understanding, but not caving.   He still hadn’t told me the name of the sailboat yet, insisting on introducing us in person.  I kept myself from speculating, I kind of liked the mystery.  Boat names have always fascinated me and I wondered idly if I would be able to trace her history and find out why the original owner had named her whatever he did.

Charleston is about 45 minutes from where he lives and another 10 minutes or so to where the boat is docked, so we had plenty of time to go over what we needed to accomplish in the next two weeks.  We picked up the sushi on the way out of the city and I shook my head a little in amazement as he got back in the car with a little cooler rather than the usual paper take away bag.  Money. I suppose you can get anything if you pay for it. I realized it was a little bit of an eye opener to how differently things might operate traveling with him.  

“We’ll pick up your rental car in the morning so you can run the errands you need to in order to get us ready.” My eyes widened in the dark of the car, but I managed to keep my mouth from dropping open so I think I saved myself the embarrassment of Kelly noticing my shock. Kelly continued on and I realized he must be used to having a secretary or personal assistant with the way he simply rattled off his needs so matter of factly.  Well, he is my captain, as of tonight I guess.  I smiled to myself in awe as he carried on.

“Oh, and check the bar and restock it as necessary or with any of your favorites.  Can you make proper cocktails?” He glanced at me briefly as I nodded, mute. “Good, no offense, you seemed the type to understand the difference between a martini glass and a shot glass, but so many young people these days swill terrible things.  Captain and Coke? Vanilla vodka and Ginger ale?  Those are not cocktails, they are sugar soaked headaches.”

At this I finally found my voice, I couldn’t agree more, and some something inane to the effect of, “a good drink is a thing of beauty and though it’s hard to beat the classics, a well stocked bar is like an artist’s palette. I actually love making cocktails.”  Terribly in-eloquent, but the important part is that he nodded and replied.

“We’re going to get along just fine, you and I.”


I’d had my attention on Kelly and not realized we were already arriving at the marina.  It felt good to realize the atmosphere in the car and the conversation, albeit surprising, was comfortable enough that the ride had flown by.    

Rolling down his window, Kelly held out his marina shipowner’s i.d. to the approaching guard.   Re-entering the guard stand, I could see him comparing the id with some other cards on a clipboard.  When he came back out and passed the cards to us, I noticed the id numbers on them matched, I shouldn’t have any problems with the guards knowing to which boat I belonged.  I slipped the card into my wallet and waved at the guard as the gates swung slowly open allowing us through.

Steering the car into the covered lot, Kelly again took  my bags in hand after helping me unload the bike from the rack.  I hung the cooler from my handlebars and we walked in silence along the dock  until he made a left turn, set the bags down and spread his arms wide, grinning at me.

“Evie, meet the lady of my life, The Slip Away.”

I looked at the sailboat behind him and matched his grin.   She is glorious.  

After showing me briefly to my cabin and dropping my gear on the bed, I went back up on deck and unfolded a couple of sling style chairs and a low, folding table I found leaning on the starboard rail.  Kelly followed me a moment later, a bottle and two glasses in hand.  

“I thought it appropriate to celebrate our first night as a crew of two,” he said, settling the bottle into the now empty cooler.   Glancing at the bottle being opened before me, I managed to swallow my burst of shocked laughter before embarrassing myself.  I should’ve known, I thought, plucking chopsticks apart and opening cups of soy.  Traveling with a rich guy is certainly going to have it’s perks.  

Kelly handed me a flute of Veuve Cliquot and I wondered silently if it was his favorite or just appropriate to his tax bracket.  “Here’s to new friendships, smooth sailing, and an epic voyage worthy of tales to tell when we are old and grey.”

I smiled and with the purest of joys I lifted my glass to his.  “Cheers to that!” I exclaimed and we drank down our first glasses sending our private thoughts to the stars and the lapping waters around us.  I asked Kelly if she had had many owners before him and if he had a chance to ask why she had been named the Slip Away.

“Nope, just one before me,” he replied proudly.

 I turned from admiring what I could see of the sailboat in the moonlight to see Kelly smiling broadly.

“You like the name do you?  Thank you.  I named her actually, and yes, you guessed partly right about why.  I also like the idea of slipping away from my current life and all its stressors for a little while.”

I choked on my sushi and took a gulp of my champagne before allowing myself to respond.  “Wait, you named her the Slip Away? You changed her name?”  

“I sure did.  Her name wasn’t bad or anything, she used to be called Goddesse, yes with the e.  Classy, beautiful, sure, but it just didn’t suit me.”

“Um. Oh…”  It was all I could manage.  I had wanted to sail forever and had watched all the movies, read all the books.  You don’t change the name of a boat.  You just don’t.

Kelly laughed then, noticing my dumbfoundedness.  “ I know, I know, it’s ‘bad luck to change a boat’s name.’ Believe me, I heard it. I had a hard enough time finding someone willing to do the paint job.  But I don’t go in for superstition.” He slanted a look at me with a smirk,  “You know, it’s supposedly bad luck to have a woman on board also.  I’m clearly not worrying about that one either… and neither are you, if I may point out.”  

I sipped my champagne.  He had a point, a point I couldn’t very well argue with.  I told him as much, forcing a laugh.  OK, I told myself, ok.  No problem.  He’s right, it’s an old superstition.  Meaningless really, I’m sure.  Just like the woman on board thing.  I won’t worry about it. It means nothing.  My heart continued to stutter, not stabilizing after my pep talk.  I drowned it in champagne.  Luckily Kelly had brought two bottles.

“Don’t worry Evie, this is going to be a perfect voyage.”  He said it with confidence and poured me another glass as he spoke and I finally felt my muscles ease again.  There was no sense in letting my dream be tarnished by silly, old, sailors’ tales.   We turned the conversation to speculation on what we would see  and I told stories of places I had been before.  Laughter overwhelmed my fear and we chatted late into the night, enjoying the beginnings of a new friendship.


All Aboard, Destination Cloud 9

Cloud 8 is a train car, with my feet on the sill of a gigantic window, a bottle of wine beside me, and my chromebook in my lap.

I did it.  I left my life.  I abandoned normalcy, convention, and some would say sanity.  I am leaping head first into the adventure I have dreamed of all my life and never truly believed I able to experience.

Job chucked, all contracts closed out, and belongings pared down to two backpacks, a bicycle, and my favorite coffee cup, I have boarded a train for North Carolina to meet Kelly, Bruce, and Un-Accounted For (the sailboat) to begin living the dream.

Catch-an-Amtrak-TrainI discovered the forgotten pleasures of train travel when I hopped on Amtrak to visit a friend while I was living in New Orleans a couple years ago.  That day I found the upstairs lounge compartment with its swivel chairs and loveseats facing windows that began at my knees and curved up the wall and into the roof of the train car.  There were little personal tables, electrical outlets, and downstairs a snack bar that offered hummus and full sized bottles of red wine.  I had hours of semi-solitude and peace to simply enjoy the view and capture my thoughts on paper.  It was bliss.

So, with the added bonus of being able to easily bring along my travel backpack and mountain bike, I of course snagged this opportunity to enjoy another train ride as the first leg of my amazing adventure.  Kelly said there would be room to secure my bike on the boat for easy transportation on the islands.  Also, he scheduled a run to Jacksonville to take care of some things he needed to there and agreed to pick me up at the train station. Perfect.

So here I sit, on Cloud 8.  I would call it Cloud 9, but I’m on way to get on boat and sail off into the Caribbean… the clouds have suddenly become relative.

I can’t stop smiling.  

The day after the legendary video chat was the beginning of my “weekend” so I dashed out a resignation letter, gathered my uniforms and keys and dumped the lot on my boss’ desk.  I briefly and un-gently informed her that though I was leaving now because my dreams had come true, the leaving was inevitable to protect myself from having my soul completely sucked out and that if certain behaviors didn’t change, the place would soon become a one person business (ie utter failure).  There was a fair amount of sputtered outrage behind me as I left that gigantic weight on my shoulders at the door and walked away into the sunshine to begin preparing for departure.

Equally happily, my landlord proved herself once again to be one of the few non-sheisty-heartless-unethical bastards out there.  I’d been a good tenant for over a year so was on a month to month lease, so she simply wished me well and even did my walk-through before I left, handing me a check for my security deposit refund as we said goodbye.  She absolutely amazed me, and restored my faith a little in people.   The last landlord I dealt with confirmed all the terrible rumors about inhuman landlords who cheat tenants out of their entire deposit knowing they don’t have the means or resources to fight them.  So thanks to that precious lady, I have a little extra money of my own and won’t be buggered when I return from my journey.  Not that it would have stopped me, I think I’d pretty much give up anything to go on this adventure.

I pocketed my check, grabbed what was left of my life after a bit of internet salesmanship and a run to Goodwill, and took a deep breath on my way to crash at a friend’s for one last night in the real world.

I am filled with the most beautiful blend of peace and wild excitement and plan to savor every moment of this decidedly bizarre leap I have made.

[post 6 of the Sailing Adventure, read the entire story here]


A Man, His Dog… and ME!!!

Kellerman Wainwright, a.k.a Kelly to his friends, apparently wakes quite early in the morning and an email was awaiting me when I blinked at my phone in my pre-coffee, partially awake, early morning state.

I took it as a good sign that I had already been included in the “friends” category seeing that each email so far was signed off “Kelly”  rather than Kellerman.  I figured it was an equally positive sign about his general character that the guy wasn’t closing his personal communications with “Mr Wainwright.”  48 years old, fancy house in North Carolina bought with apparently beaucoup bucks made first on Wall Street and more recently as a personal finance accountant to the richey riches in New York and the Crystal Coast, and a newly, (not self) refurbished sailboat… the man had seriously high potential for pretentious prickdom.

Luckily, through his email conversation (including my perspective on his email signature) and later that evening by video chat, Kelly is proving himself to have mostly escaped that well trodden Rich Prick path and so far seems pretty down to earth.  Though he is a bit dorky.

I laughed when he completely exemplified that analysis for me and told me about the third companion that will be on our sailing adventure with us.  Kelly’s dog is named Bruce.  BruceThat’s right,  Bruce Wainwright.  As in Bruce Wain…wright.

Kelly laughed and laughed when he told me, completely amused with himself and his explanation that Bruce looks cool and collected, but is a tough and protective “badass” when a threat presents itself.  I quietly hoped he had not named the sailboat the BatMoBoat or something else equally embarrassing.  He did go on to explain though that Bruce is a rescue dog, a mutt of questionable mixing somewhere along the lines of Australian Shepherd and PitBull that he fell in love with at a shelter about 4 years ago.  Kelly saved himself a lot of points in my book for that and I decided I would not tease poor Bruce, or his rescuer owner, about his name. OK maybe I would tease Kelly, a little.  I mean come on.

And yes, yes I did say Bruce would be joining us on our sailing adventure!  Kelly picked me!!  He said yes!!!!  I get to go I get to GO I GET TO GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Oh yea, and I said yes too.  Kelly checked out in my google searches – all claims appears true.  My friend in HR pulled up a background check on him for me – all clear.  Beyond being a bit of dork, he seems like an okay guy to spend the next few months traveling with.  He himself addressed the pink elephant in the situation; romance is not on the agenda.  We both made that boundary clear with ease once the topic was put to light.  Sharing a sailboat with a stranger, we both expect to make a new friend and be able to relax in the small space of our lives without awkwardness and enjoy the trip of a lifetime.

I began packing already and can’t wait to tell my absurd excuse for a boss that I am O.U.T.  I can’t help it, I am simply too elated by the adventure life has presented to me to be quiet,  professional, about mature about this.  I’m going to burn that bridge to ashes and laugh my way to the train station.

bridge burning

Besides, sailboats and bridges don’t get along well anyway.

[post 5 of the Sailing Adventure. To Sail from the beginning click here]

Not (Too) Crazy

An hour later I had composed a slightly less frenetic email to Kelly, with the help and sanity of Elissa.

Dear Kelly,

Great to hear from you and thank you for considering me for your trip, I’m really excited about the opportunity.

Getting to know each other is obviously a smart plan and I think will be fun as well.  Feel free to check out my LinkedIn post and my blogs, as I don’t have facebook, to confirm what I tell you by email, etc.

To start with, I am 35 and have spent half of that lifetime living both small and large adventures in my search for a life and place to call “home.”  I have no children or pets and only own a fairly nomadic collection of stuff so it is easy for me to pick up and go when a new opportunity in life presents itself.  I have always wanted to learn to sail, so no, I don’t know how to do that, but I can drive a power boat, and a canoe, quite comfortably so no qualms about a boating lifestyle in the physical sense.  For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to sail off to the Caribbean “Jimmy Buffett style,” as you said in your post, and experience the beauty and culture from a perspective no classic tourist package can offer.  Personally, my friends call me funny and brave, but kind and easy going.  I’m pretty mellow, but creative with my downtime too. I’m a pretty good cook and enjoy eating healthy, but never pass up an opportunity for something interesting and delicious.  It’s part of why I like travel so much, I adore food.  I like to keep my space clean and organized, but I don’t obsess.  I am not a princess and have traveled by myself quite a bit, so am aware of the risks and necessities of being a female traveler.  I won’t get you in any trouble and you won’t need to worry about me.  I can’t really think of anything else right now that might be helpful, but you are of course welcome to ask me any questions you like.

I am free after about 7 each evening so we could set up a video chat time whenever works for you.  I am really looking forward to meeting you!


I clicked send and finally let out my breath.  My internal rollercoaster was going at full speed climbing the hills of elation about finally going on the trip I’ve always dreamed of, to the sharp, belly twisting drops of nervousness reminding myself I wasn’t going yet, he hadn’t actually said I could go.  I wanted to cry thinking he would change his mind, then I tried to boost my morale by reminding myself he didn’t have to respond to me at all, so I could probably go ahead and get excited.  Next thing I knew, I found myself in my closet pulling out my travel bag and had to talk myself out of packing.  I should at least wait until after the video chat, right? Right, that would be sensible.  Ugh, I was a wreck, I had to do something.  At this rate I would never sleep and then I would look like crap and then he would want to video chat and then he would decide a zombie was not an appropriate sailing companion…  OK deep breath, had to find a coping skill.

Reading is usually my escape, I can devour a book in just one or two nights, especially when I am having any emotional upheaval in my life.  But on occasions where my brain is just way too worked up, I find myself reading pages and pages and never absorbing one word of it.  Going for a walk wouldn’t solve anything, I would still just think in circles till I vomited from the mental dizziness. Finally, with a sigh and a smile, I had it.  Yes!  I would settle myself in to my most recent addiction/safety blanket, a Netflix “Chopped” marathon.  I seriously love that show.  Can’t get enough.

Bring it on!!

Bring it on!!

I threw on my ever-comforting, over-sized chef pants and a tank top, poured myself another glass of wine (since the last one went to appease the tile gods), and settled in to bed with my laptop.  My brain simply couldn’t worry about Kelly and the sailing adventure while I was dealing with the pressure of 3 timed rounds, intense judges, and baskets of insane cooking ingredients.  Thank you Food Network, for being my mute button on life.

[post 4 of the Sailing Adventure]

Enthusiasm and Sense of Adventure

Hi there Evie,  Thanks for responding to my ad for a sailing companion.  I must say I do like your enthusiasm and sense of adventure.  I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of a response I would get from posting that, and admittedly have had a few oddballs reply, but you sound pretty normal and like a lot of fun. I think we could be great sailing pals.  Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself, I’ll do the same for you, and then maybe set up a video chat for sometime in the next couple days to ‘meet’ and make sure we can get along well enough to survive a few months within 38′ of each other.  Look  forward to hearing from you. – Kelly


Dear Kelly,

Oh thank you thank you for not thinking I am crazy!!!  I’m so excited to hear from you and yes yes!!!!  I think we could make great sailing pals!!!!!   I don’t know how to sail, but I’m really excited to learn and I learn fast .  In the mean time, I do know how to cook, I’m really clean and easy going, I speak French and know celestial navigation, so I can certainly pull my weight as a sailing companion while I learn “the ropes” haha.

Brilliant idea about getting to know each other, you are welcome to google me and you can find me on LinkedIn to know that I am really who I say I am.  Other than that, I am 35, with a degree in Psychology, an expansive working and traveling background, no kids, no pets, and a job I hate that I can leave at any second to come and meet you on the boat. We could video chat tonight even if you want and  I could probably be there tomorrow if you want to go soon, I’m already packed!!!!!


I’m on a roll and about to  explain how adept I have become at packing my entire wardrobe into 2 bags when I hear… the Minions?  laughing… at me?

I’m finally jolted out of my manic haze by this offensive absurdity, and realize it’s just my ringtone. My best friend is calling.  I blink, reach for the nearest cloth, which happens to be my black uniform shirt on the floor by the desk where I dropped it and begin mopping the spilled wine off my thighs and floor tiles as I answer the phone.

“HI LOVE!” I start yelling into the phone the moment I pick up. “Guess WHAT!  He wrote back!  He wrote back and he likes my sense of adventure and my enthusiasm and thinks we could make great sailing pals and wants to get to know me and is going to tell me more about him and wants to video chat and I think I might get to go and I’m so excited I can’tbelieveitImightactuallygetTOGOOO!!!!!!!!!!!”

I finally suck in a breath to register that now Elissa is laughing at me too.  “Hello honey.” she says.  “First of all, I’m really excited for you, that’s awesome.  Second, yes, definitely find out more about him before you jump on a boat with him, you know I worry.  And third, please tell me you haven’t emailed him back yet, that you waited to vent a little of this exuberant yet barely intelligible sputtering and to calm down first?”  She ends the third statement slightly tilted like its a question.  She knows me too well.

“Um.” I begin, and she’s laughing again and I swear I can hear her shaking her head. “No, no,” I hasten to add, “I didn’t actually send it yet. But I think I’m really glad you called when you did.”  I quickly scan my email reply, and delete the entire message. “Yea, really glad.  Help me vent and write a new one?  I just have to go on this trip Elissa, I have to!”

“I know sweetie, and you’re right, you do.  Of course I’ll help.”

There’s nothing in the world like a best friend.

[post 3 of the Sailing Adventure]

(Unexpected) Response



3 cups of coffee, 2 (fairly painful) bouts of self-kicking, and 1 “babe-I-love-you-but-don’t-you-dare-send-another-message-after-that-craziness!” best friend phone call later, I succumbed to the doldrums, threw on my uniform, and went to work vowing I would forget the posting ever passed through my phone.  In addition, I firmly added to my inner monologue that I would not, absolutely not, be sad to have destroyed my only chance ever to have a grand adventure.

Of course I allowed no concession to my less hateful, logical brain.  It was pathetically trying to remind me that adventures had indeed been, and would surely again be a part of my life, despite my desperate early morning plea. I’m a woman after all, I don’t always have time for sensibility especially when in matters of great tragedy.

So my day passed  as well as could be hoped for, with minor work emergencies cropping up like tribbles throughout the day, providing me with blessedly little time to dwell on either my island-life dreams or my own stupidity.  Evening grudgingly obliged to relieve me of my boss and therefore my workday at last.

Exhausted, humbled, and resolved to escape into a great book, a glass of wine, and not checking my email, I sighed as I closed my door on the world.  Despite my returned self-deprecating thoughts, I was glad to be home in the quiet having survived another day at my wretched, useless job listening to my wretched, useless boss.

Shedding clothes on my way from the front door to the kitchen (the joys of living alone, I hate wearing my uniform one second longer than necessary), I began to relax at last.  Red wine in hand, I made my way to my couch… via the computer desk.  I couldn’t help myself. I just couldn’t.

I try not to talk to myself too often.  I don’t have any pets, so I can’t use that as an excuse for talking out loud in an empty apartment, so I restrain from outer monologues for the most part.  But I couldn’t help that right at that moment, just as I couldn’t help checking my email.

You won’t have a response.” I repeated to my walls, surely gathering stories of their own about the crazy resident in apartment #6. “It was an absurd listing anyway.  Eight million people probably responded and all of them sounded less crazy than you.  It’s probably not even real. If it was real, you definitely disqualified yourself. But it’s not real. So you won’t get a response.  And that’s best because he’s probably psycho and the trip would be a terrible idea anyway.  Terrible.  Absurd. Worst idea ever. Not even worth consid-OH HOLY CHEESITS!”

He responded!  He actually responded!


I spilled my wine.

[post 2 of the Sailing Adventure, read the whole story here]


I Wanna GO!!!

I received a notification in my email today:  Companion Wanted for Extended Caribbean Sailing Voyage

Despite the early hour (yes, sadly, I check my phone for emails every time I wake to pee after 6:30 am, a terrible habit), I was suddenly sunbeams-and-roosters awake. It was a notification from a craigslist auto-search, one that rarely spit up anything of real interest, obscure as I had made it.  But something about it, yes, ok, something more than the title and knowledge of just how obscure the search notification was (sail + voyage + Caribbean + all expenses paid) held my eyes open like Calvin’s toothpicks and had my heart beating and skin tingling like I had woken from the proverbial…um… flying dream.

I opened the full email and subsequently the full link and read a paragraph that had me scrambling for passport and packable clothes even while I tried to decipher the email time stamp through bleary eyes and remind myself I needed to actually respond (at the least) before getting too excited (too late!).

Companion wanted for extended Caribbean Sailing Voyage”

I have just finished refurbishing my 38″ sailboat and am ready to try her out on the “long haul.”  If you would like to join me on an extended, open-ended sailing voyage from North Carolina south to Miami and on to explore the Caribbean, I am in need of a companion for what looks to be a truly J. Buffett-style adventure.  I plan to leave within the month and will pay all onboard expenses for myself and my companion.  I just need someone easy-going, adaptable and who likes to laugh to share in this once-in-a-lifetime journey with me.

Oh My Proverbial G.

Yes please!!!

I responded.  Unfortunately I did so before having a cup of coffee and reminding myself to eloquently curb my enthusiasm (to lessen the fear of psychotic fervor one might develop from reading the emails I shoot off at times).  Yes, coffee actually lessens the intensity of my emails, contrary to logic, early in the morning.

“IIIIII WANNA GOOOOOO!!!!!!!”    is the gist of what I “sent from my Verizon phone, at 6:37 a.m. without spell/grammar/sanity checking.”

Crap.  Potentially decreased my chances at having someone look  forward to inviting me to spend months on end living daily within 38″ feet of him. Yet again, I wish there was a mulligan button on my phone.

Guess we’ll see what happens…


[this is post 1 of the story, keep reading The Sailing Adventure]

Home Port for the Sailing Adventure

I recently mentioned that I am at a bit of a confusing crossroads with this blog.  Ink Stains On My Sheets was created with the intention of tracking my career life while I have struggled to find and survive “normal” jobs on my way to becoming a professional author.  Lately I haven’t known what to write here though because I ditched the conventional world and took off to play on a ranch for the winter, with no major plans to return to the grind full time, hopefully ever.

In my other blog, Ink Stained Adventures, I write about all the crazy adventures in my life.  I got bored a while back and decided to create an adventure for myself because life was too mundane.  I’ve been writing that story, The Sailing Adventure, in Ink Stained Adventures.  However, life is not quite so oppressively normal any longer and all my adventures are becoming a bit muddled being contained within the same blog.

So now that I am not working, in the traditional sense, and I am making real steps towards my dream in that I am writing more often and working on my first full length book, transitioning the Sailing Adventure here to Ink Stains On My Sheets is the answer to both problems.  This will not only untangle the Ink Stained Adventures, but help me visualize my progress towards my goals, which we all know the experts say is the only way to go.

Moving (this is not the actual boat)

To those of you who follow both blogs, first of all, thank you so much.  Your support means the world to me.  Second, please forgive the repeat of the Sailing Adventure posts 1-4 on Ink Stains on My Sheets.  I will keep the same titles, so you know when to pick back up again.  Ink Stained Adventures will have new posts to read though so you don’t get bored or forget me  🙂

To any of you who might only be following this blog, thank you just as much, and would love to have you join me at the other site as well to read more landlocked adventures.