I keep my boat on an anchor in the harbor, in constant worry that the harbormaster will ask me to leave. Gloucester is not a welcoming place for any boaters, except fishing boats. This requires me to row in every morning and back out every evening. Round trip, the row can be about 40 min, so I try to do it only once each day. That means packing everything for the day, and returning to my boat only to sleep at night. It is feeling less and less like a cozy home, and I miss it. And I miss my cat, Dory. He misses me too.
I asked Ben to lend me his motor for my dinghy. The dinghy is difficult to row and it wastes a lot of valuable time in the day. With a motor, I could zip home in the middle of the day to change my cloths or fix dinner. He loaded it in his car and drove it up to Gloucester, but just as we were about to launch it, he said to me, “do you really want this?” Well, why wouldn’t I? It would make life much easier and more enjoyable. “Of course I do” I said. “But its not living simply.” And that hit me. He was right. I had been so accustomed to finding solutions to make life easier that I forgot my goal. This time, a simple solution, was not living simply. I would have to maintain the motor, fuel it, and lug it around. It would smell, make noise, and ruin the beauty of the dinghy cutting through the water with oars dipping in and out to a cadence of simple life.