On board Oblivion is a set of necessary devices: a barometer and a clock. Both are beautiful pieces—round, brass, nautical looking pieces. The barometer is accurate as far as I can tell. I have not become familiar with the barometer much and leave that device to others. But the lovely clock is a bit of a mystery.
It tells time beautifully—when it has not been wound too tight. And I try not to do that, but somehow it happens. When it stops working, it always stops at 10:12.
To help it get unstuck, one trick has been to turn on the chimes to ring on the hour and half hour. This somehow sparks the gears into action. When the bells chime, it’s difficult to know whether it is striking on the hour or half hour because the number of chimes that toll is different each time it rings. This necessitates looking at the clock to see what the actual time is, and while we still need to look at the clock to determine the time, at least the clock is working accurately. But there are those on the boat, like Thane, who have a hard time sleeping when the chimes are on because the clock is about 6 ft from his head. So, the chimes are turned off and the clock works for awhile until it eventually gets to 10:12 and stops again.
It’s always fun in the morning to wake up and move about the boat and think, “Wow, I really slept in this morning—it’s already 10:12.” But the reality is that it’s closer to 6, 7, or 8 o’clock am and lots of morning left to enjoy. The inverse is true as well. While working on the computer tonight, Thane asked what time it was. Knowing that the clock was stuck, I looked at my phone and told him it was 9:05. He said, “No, it’s not. It’s 10:12.” (Ten o’clock is known on the docks as cruiser’s midnight, so he was getting a bit anxious thinking that it was already time to be sleepy and in bed.) He was glad (and so was I) to know that it was only 9:05 because he wanted to get to the showers before they closed the doors for the night. Whew!
I realize the 10:12 time on this clock is a small matter, but a perplexing one no less. At least it’s right twice a day! But reality is that time is rather inconsequential at the docks. We wake up when it’s light outside, eat when we’re hungry, and get sleepy when it’s really dark outside. Or, at least we try to get sleepy.
Some nights sleep comes easily, other nights not so well. Ana Bananas, a local restaurant/bar close by offers us free, live oldies music most nights. They try to cut it off around 8:00, but not tonight. Last night was the last night for the sailing regatta that’s been here all week. We were in bed and asleep around 11:00 (I know—super late for cruisers) when I woke up to several loud bangs going off. I checked the LED clock by my bed—it was 11:53—the clock on the wall said it was only 10:12, nothing to worry about. I couldn’t quite put it all together as to why there would be gun shots going off. Most things at the marina have been fairly peaceful even with the President of Mexico here again yesterday, and he was long gone. Then I noticed flashes of light above my head through our open hatch, crawled up and peered out at a series of firework blooms exploding directly overhead being launched from the marina jetty! Seriously, was this information posted anywhere to let unsuspecting snoozing cruisers know that their sleep would be interrupted? I love fireworks, but somehow could not muster the energy to go outside to fully appreciate them. My thoughts were on the many boaters here with children (who, though frightened at first, would most likely enjoy the fireworks once awakened), but more importantly, there are even more boats in the marina with dogs on board! If you’ve ever been around dogs during the 4th of July, you know it’s not their favorite holiday! Fortunately, the display did not last too long, but certainly ended with a couple of those loud reports that shake the timbers! It was a minor interruption in the big scheme of things, and I was able to get back to sleep fairly easily. But really…
That was last night, and now the beautiful nautical clock on the wall says it’s 10:12, and my computer agrees; so in honor of it being right, I’ll end this post. It’s past cruiser’s midnight and the close of another day filled with good food, good walks, good talks, and time to enjoy them all. No matter what the time on the clock says, “time” is the gift of this trip, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to enjoy it.
Brenda
