Saturday, May 2 — We were up early, which was painful given that we had gotten no sleep the night before last and had a long day yesterday. We got ready and put up the dress flags. Trevor, our crew member on the passage to Ensenada, and his girlfriend Katie arrived at 0845. The original plan had been for them to wait in the channel for us and to take photos of us coming in. Given that we had snuck in a day early, we were going to “recreate” the arrival this morning for the camera. Actually, I am glad that we will be photographed clean and fresh, instead of tired and grungy after a night time run, as was originally planned. We left the slip about 0900. Interestingly enough, on our way out of the slip, we spotted the 57 Nordhavn we had met in Panama. They saw us, too, and gave us a call on the radio to congratulate us.

We went back out to the edge of the bay and Trevor snapped photos all the way up to the dock on Coronado. Our welcoming party was small, just some family and close friends, which was good. We think we would have been overwhelmed by too many people. Here is a shot of Trevor and Katie taking pictures of us.

And then us with Kosmos at the dock on Coronado, and then Kosmos with downtown San Diego in the background.

And few of the people who came out to see us.

Monday, May 4 A few friends had gatherings to welcome us over the weekend. We saw quite a few people, some close friends, some casual acquaintances, over the weekend. Since the thing that we missed most was our friends and family, seeing all these people has been wonderful. However, we have been overwhelmed at how many people were around, and interacting with them has been a little weird for us.

Just like we experienced on our world travels, almost everyone asks us the same questions in the same order. Virtually everyone, even people who know better, first question is “how does it feel to be on dry land after 2 years of the ocean?” When we reply that we spent 75% of our time on land during the journey, they seem surprised even the ones who know better.

Next, people ask us “what is your favorite place”. Most are unhappy that we haven’t picked one definitive spot and don’t seem to want to listen to a list of our favorite places and why. They all seem to want to know the one best place of all. Then comes “did you get hit by pirates?” and “did you get caught in any really big storms?”, hoping to hear dramatic tales. They seem to be let down when we say it was 95% good with few bad times. And, that is about all they want to hear about the trip, just the very best and very worst in short, concise answers.

The next question is invariably “where are you living”. When we say we are going to continue to live on the boat, most everyone is shocked. They think we are somehow compromising our quality of life by not being in a house and that living on the boat is a bad thing. When we try to justify our decision, a lot of people say they hope we sell the boat soon so we can escape from having to live on it, as if living aboard is some heinous kind of torture. One person said “shoot, I thought you would be ready to burn that thing down by now”. Before we left, we got a lot of criticism for making choices that go against the grain of society. We suppose that we are realizing that any choice that we make that is “unusual” in our culture will get that kind of reaction.

From there, the next statement is invariably “So much has changed! Everything is totally different now than it was when you left!” They start by mentioning the collapsed economy, then go on to tell us about all that we have “missed out” on by being gone. iPhones. Facebook. Twitter. Movies and TV shows. We then get a list of new products that we absolutely “need” to buy.

From our perspective, everything is exactly the same as when we left. There are a few new buildings here and there, but San Diego looks more or less the same. Our friends are the same people they were before. The only thing that is different is that the kids are bigger, and a few new kids have arrived. As much as we like technology and entertainment, we don’t feel like we have missed out on anything by being gone. And, after living without lots of those thing for the last two years, we are floored when people seem to confuse need with want, confuse owning stuff with happiness, and confuse quantity with quality.

Usually, at some point in time, we mention that we are going to Greece for 12 days for Christi’s brother’s wedding. Invariably, people say “Oh, your taking the boat back to Greece for a few days? How nice”. We want to say “It took us 9 months to get from here to Greece. You don’t really think we are going to make a quick jaunt there and back in 12 days, do you?” They simply don’t get how different slow boat travel is from jet plane travel. Actually, few of our friends understand the scope and magnitude of what we have done. To them, it was a 2 year vacation much the same as their week long trips to Hawaii, just longer. They just can’t wrap their head around the concept of how incredibly different of a life it is compared to life in middle class America, nor do they understand what a rare achievement a circumnavigation by boat is. They think everyone does it all the time.

Eric is enjoying the social interaction more than Christi. He is a social butterfly by nature, and isn’t as overwhelmed by so many people wanting his attention as Christi is. He also has an easier time brushing aside the odd comments than Christi does. Christi is a little bit in shock by the whole re-integration process and thinks she would have done better if it had been smaller groups. But, we both feel loved that so many people have turned out to see us.

In between the gatherings, and all day today, we have been trying to get “settled”. We have been doing stuff like getting Christi a new phone, ordering things like glasses and Internet, sorting through mail, and going to places like the bank and grocery store.