Now that everyone had their sea legs on our passage from the surf spot to the next harbor went smoothly.
The boat sailed gracefully over the waves and I thought back on waves from my surf session that I rode without falling and the lasting satisfaction that came from discovering a surf spot we dreamed of finding in the West Indies. Scott and I had surfed it alone; the colors of the sunset looked like sherbet ice cream and the winds were perfectly offshore and warm. Really Devon, that's enough. That's more than enough. Don't spoil it. Don't make it any less good, I told myself while I was drinking some juice on the back deck.
I apologized for inconveniencing anyone with my surfing and kept most of my pouting to myself. As time passed my failures seemed smaller and less important just like the islands we sailed away from. New things came into perspective and it was time for me to focus on what was coming. The next night was the last of the year.
On New Years Eve, we enjoyed a buffet style dinner at a bar in the harbor we anchored our boat in. The night passed as most New Years Eve night’s do- checking your watch how much time was between this year and the next and swallowing various drinks while dancing.
I enjoyed the freedom the alcohol gave my feet, the multi-cultural crowd we celebrated with and the warm island breeze that seemed to kiss us all, but the thing I would remember most was the look on my dad's face during the firework show at midnight. It said, this is it. He had worked so hard to get us all here. This look on his face told me his dream had been realized and even though I was watching him through rum punched eyes the moment was so clear.