'We sail a boat.'
'Yeah, but what do you do all day?'
Sailing can be a rather involving, yet also oftentimes relaxing, proposition. It requires you to always be aware of your surroundings. 'Is the boat on course?' 'Is she trimmed as well as she could be?'
While offshore, sailing is much like traversing a steep icy driveway in loafers. You develop a slight hint of nausea as the boat bucks and yawls through the waves, and you nervously hang on to your mental focus, lest you lose your footing and plummet to a state of useless misery.
But when you're in the lee of land or crossing protected banks (as we are today), sailing is the kind of venture you could shamelessly bring your mother along for. Days like today are truly relaxing. Even more relaxing than being anchored in an uninteresting locale (as Provo proved to be).
With nothing to do you sit; and it's more relaxing to sit, knowing that you're on your way to new territory.
So, 'What do you do all day?'
'We sail a boat.'
This means many things: offshore you cling to your stomach, food, and sleep. At night you soak in the desolation. And on a beautiful day like today, I like to read.
Almost every marina has a 'book swap' shelf. Most of the time you have to shift through a sea of gripping romance novellas to find any real gems, but once in awhile you find something useful.
In New Bern I picked up a cookie-cutter Grisham (good to pass the time). In Ft. Lauderdale I picked up a book on developmental econ (still in the que). And in Nassau, I picked up 'The Sun Also Rises' by Ernest Hemingway.
I'm going to avoid starting a 'Cruiser's Book Review' series, but I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed it.