 |
| Waterlemon Cay in Leinster Bay, St. John, USVI |
While watching the sunset over Waterlemon Cay, St John, Jim received "the call." He was asked to return to the States to serve as Project Manager for a new oilfield company. Upon our return to St. Thomas, we decided it was a good fit as well as an opportunity for Jim to finish out his career before retirement (still some years down the road).
A week before we were to move back to the States, my Dad passed away. Having the kindest heart one could have, he left me with no less than the greatest of gifts, a lifetime of happy memories to cherish. His word could be trusted and his handshake was better than a contract...the finest of true Texas gentlemen.
 |
| Allen Moore, Sr. |
Having hired a captain and crew, we confidently flew back to Houston and began to settle in while waiting for Dulcinea to return to her slip at the marina. Her journey back was not a pleasant one and we were met with thousands of dollars in damages and repairs. This captain and his crew had a lack of respect for the care of our boat and no shame for the condition in which they returned her. As disappointed as we were in having thought we found the right crew to return her to the States, we moved forward and chalked it up as a lesson learned, "never let anyone sail your boat without at least one of you being aboard."
With only a few touches left to warm Jim's man cave and a clock on the wall to keep us on track with appointments, we are close to being settled in our new home.
 |
| Jim's Man Cave |
Our days back have now turned into months and we currently find ourselves headed to the Frio River for a long weekend with great friends and eagerly planning a trip to London this fall. Flights are booked, Jim found us a great flat overlooking the River Thames, and tickets have been purchased for "Phantom of the Opera" at Her Majesty's Theatre. While we are finishing our itinerary, we can hardly believe our trip is less than 3 months away.
But, be sure, we will return to the sea.
"Sometimes we are lucky enough to know that
our lives have been changed, to discard the old, embrace the new, and
run headlong down an immutable course. It happened to me ... on that
summer’s day, when my eyes were opened to the sea."— Jacques Yves Cousteau, Oceanographer
