Ouest was helping me with boat work today. I was attempting to fix one of the running lights and was messing around with the wiring in the chain locker. She sat on her bed and handed me tools and bits of wiring. She even got to the point that out of three screwdrivers she could hand me the Phillips. Nice, I thought, I could get used to having some help. Then when I finished up I was putting everything away but couldn’t find the little screwdriver.

“Ouest, where is the little screwdriver that you were holding for me?”

“Hmm?”

“The little screwdriver, where is it?”

“Why?”

“Because we need to put it away. Can you tell me where it is?”

“Gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean? Where did you put it?”

“Hmm?”

“Seriously Ouest, where is it, we need to put it away.”

“Gone.”

Her room is tidy and there are only a couple of places it could have been, but it was nowhere to be found. Tonight it is still MIA. Or, I guess I should say, it is still gone. This is not the kind of help I had in mind.

We cleared out with the marina today and got our clearance paper from the Port Captain. I guess Mexico has made this process easier in the past few years, but I must say the whole thing is still pretty ridiculous. Needing to get cleared out of one port in order to move on to another. I fail to see the point, but I guess Port Captains need a job too. We all like to feel important.

Earlier this morning Ali took the kids to town while I motored the boat around the corner to the fuel dock. I swear that my docking skills are unsurpassed when I am singlehanding. I somehow always manage to move this big tug right in to her spot, step off the boat like the coolest customer in town, and tie off my lines like there was never any doubt to just how simple I could make it look. A couple of Bum friends wandered down to the fuel dock and introduced themselves while I was there too. I felt like quite the man about town I tell you.