From Africa to San Francisco

San Francisco---I couldn’t wait to see them. It had been three years and 5988 miles away the last time we had seen each other.

It was in a safe Marina, in a tense location. The boat I was on had been searched for the first time and the Arabic language was unlike the Italian, Spanish and Greek that we had constantly switched  to depending on the location of our sailboat. But this was different, this was Rabot, Morocco. A city that bumps up to an even poorer city called Sale (pronounced Saul-lay).  The Marina however was brand new, they were making a huge effect to attract yachts to the area. High fences with barbed wire tops bordered the entire Marina and armed guards stood at the gate as well as walked the grounds.  But on the other side of the fence was a huge population of the super poor. The long trails of  outdoor markets and vendors in either city were a short walk in either direction. A river separated the two cities.

I would sit on the boat and watch the scores of people scurrying along the fence on a busy road between the cities. The women were primarily in brightly colored, long robes, headscarves and some in full burqas. The first time I went to the market I wore a tank top and felt so uncomfortable with the stares I bought a scarf to cover my shoulders.

This was the Africa I sailed to nearly 3 years ago. And these were the couple with a boat at the same marina just across our boat slip that I had dog-sat for the day before leaving for the Canary Islands.  They were taking a train to Fez, Morocco and I was able to spend the night on their boat and feed their sweet little boat dog. But as we had planned,  I got up the next morning and sailed away  before they returned. I hadn't heard about the rest of their trip, or even the trip to Fez, that I was to find out now, ended up being an action/adventure story!

They were at sea for five years compared to my one.  I had not seen anyone that I met abroad and all my crewmates are now scattered around the world. Skype and emails are just not the same as seeing someone.  It has been hard for anyone to relate to some of my stories or certainly understand the difficulty I had re-adjusting to life after. They relocated to San Francisco and I was anxious to see them and hear the rest of their sailing story as well as compare stories of re-adjusting.

I loved that they lived in the city and had a perfect loft home. We sat for hours just talking about the time at sea and life on land. Many things were similar if not identical. It made me feel so validated when they confirmed that they had the same experiences adjusting.

They are still full of wanderlust and hope to get back to more than day trips on their boat, now docked nearby.  Challenges have been more than anyone planned but timing has allowed things to work out to be for the best.

I never thought when I left them in Africa, that we would be sitting in San Francisco together. However, we all agreed, the next time we meet it would be better sitting in the cockpit of a gently rocking boat, drinking wine, in another far off port.