Ode to rain

Even in paradise it sometimes rains, and when it does, it rains cats and dogs. 

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Black clouds appear on the horizon rimmed by a thick veil of rain. Half an hour later we’re all running for cover, stowing anything that could blow away in the gusting winds and quickly closing all the hatches. Like you would at home, more or less, with a small difference. At home, when the first raindrops fall, I’d run out to the porch and snatch all the drying clothes off the clothesline. Since I’ve been living on a boat, I do the opposite. When I see rain, I go outside to hang my clothes up for a wash. 

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Drinking water is the most precious thing on a boat. Therefore, we have to carefully manage every drop. We use the fresh water for drinking, which of course is top priority, then comes cooking and washing. We can rinse the dishes with fresh water only when we’re close to civilization. Laundry, I’m afraid, is deep down the chain of priorities. Luckily, neither of us gets too bothered if we have wrinkly and salty clothes. Sometimes we wash them on land when we come across a river or a pipe with running water. But in most cases, we do our laundry when it rains.  In the afternoon I hang the salty towels up and by morning they’re miraculously washed and dried by the tropical sun. Simple, don’t you think?! 

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Of course, we also collect rainwater in our tank. One hour of heavy downpour can easily give us forty liters of water, while an entire day of rain means that for the time being we can shower whenever we want to! The rain in the tropics never lasts too long, so we never get bored of it. Rain always makes us happy. Especially me. 

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My days are full of sunshine, and in such a beautiful weather I find it hard to sit at the computer and work. I’d much rather be outside and enjoy the sunny day. I always promise myself that on the next rainy day I’ll write this and read that. But when it finally starts to shower, I forget my ambitious plans. Instead, I just sit in the cockpit, staring at the jugs filling with what I call "free water". I stare at the little stream, almost hypnotized, and think:

 

What a miracle...

Jasna Tuta
Jasna Tuta

I have always had a connection to the sea. Born in the coastal village of Sistiana (near Trieste) in northern Italy, my earliest memories are of watching the heavy waves slam ashore when the local winds were blowing hard. As a teenager, the sailing club became my focus – not just for my love of water sports, but also for the handsome boys that sailed there. I went on to become an Optimist instructor for the club by summer and a junior school teacher by winter. However, ten years of focusing on the needs of children dampened my maternal instincts somewhat and I felt the need to travel. The sea was the obvious way to go…

 

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