Boat Provisions — Aria Alpert Adjani
This is the last blog post I will write from land. FROM LAND. Forgive me for yelling. I needed to repeat that cause shit just got real whilst writing it. If you are new to this blog, you can catch up here. Anywho, AHOY! We are down to the last days before our boat arrives and we are finally, finally able to move in to our new home at sea. Pictures and videos to follow on my next post for sure (whenever that may be) but, rest assured, I will continue to keep it real and document all the vomiting I am endlessly told to expect. You’re welcome.
Where exactly we will be going is still unclear. But, something is thrilling about this unknown adventure. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m mildly freaking out but honestly hopeful and excited to conquer my fears once I gain experience and confidence. My husband keeps reminded me to relax but, listen folks, I have never been an adventure thrill seeker. I know, shocking. However, I have been gathering strength from the incredible adventurer women in my life. Cause, that’s what we women do, we comfort and hold each other up, even when we don’t know it. But, get ready Vic and Naomi, cause when you visit us on some deserted island I’m gonna kick your mouth f$ckin’ ass on that paddle board. (You see, we women inspire). Love you ladies!
Fears are still there in the darkness though. In the abyss (note to self: do not watch ocean disaster films again). The inner narrative goes something like: what the heck am I doing, how will we survive, will we come across an unexpected typhoon, a shark (many), will someone get sick or get a deep wound that needs stitches (I got a crazy amount of first-aide, emergency antibiotics and crazy glue fear not!), will the anchor dislodge and we will be shipwrecked, will I be able to not freak out and weather a storm, will we sail around the world, will I blossom into a salty sailor, or will I be begging to get off the thing at the next dock as I white knuckle clinch my vomit bucket. Cause, who knows which way the sea will go for me. All I know is that I am fooooooking prepared for this adventure like never before. No, seriously, I am stocked to the gills (pardon these ocean puns) with provisions. I may even open a floating restaurant or begin to trade goods with the locals or fellow sailors. I mean, what else am I going to do with 50 pounds of different colored lentils (red, golden, black, brown, I am not kidding) OR 6 varieties of pasta (again ten pounders each) and a homegrown garden in the middle of the ocean (more on that later). Have I learned how to sail the damn thing yet, you ask? Errrrr, not yet. Our intense training starts when our boat arrives. But, to quote the handful of boat insurance forms I have been filling out, this is where I stand at present:
Are you in utter shock that you are moving onto a boat and are excited beyond your wildest dreams?
You bet your sweet ass.
This has been months in the making and preparing, and now, the day is quickly approaching when our longing and waiting finally becomes our new reality. And, now more than ever, we can’t wait to sail away from these Floridian streets. Florida has been good to us, don’t get me wrong. The beaches and weather this time of year are gorgeous, but I have reached my breaking point with these freaking people that continue to refuse to wear masks. So many over here now. Not to mention, the ones that do (especially the old folks) half-assing it. Wearing their masks hanging down low, as if they are honoring the hip hop baggy jeans show your underwear look. Just lift the damn thing up; it’s a simple ask for humanity and not hard to do correctly.. I almost had it out with this red haired woman the other day. She walked into the elevator with no mask, talking and laughing on her phone like nothing was wrong. My masked self and the other three masked women in the elevator all looked at each other with our eyes in utter disbelief. Like, WTF. I thought to myself, should I say something? Would she listen or get all Trump supporting crazy in my face and spit on me or something. The real question: is this worth possibly getting Covid over? We all choose to escape as quickly as we could. So, please allow me to yell at her now — CUNT!
But that is not why I am writing. I am writing to share some of my favorite things in the kitchen that I am stocking up on — boat provisions. Which, in turn, is perfect for you all to stock up to have in yours. Just maybe not as much bulk. Unless you wanna go rogue and stock up for the end of days, which doesn’t really seem like a bad idea these days. Jeeeeeezus. But we got a new president so I am hopeful for the first time in, oh, 4 years. At any rate, I am here to inspire you to stock up your kitchen not only to be able to cook when inspiration strikes but also to be prepared for more armageddon shit. Not to mention supporting some fabulous small businesses and organizations in the process. But, before I get into it, I wanna talk about our new garden. Yes, we are bringing a garden onto the boat. This was a must for me.
I miss having a garden. I miss being able to walk out my front door, go into the field grab some fresh herbs, a handful of edible flowers, some seasonal vegetables, fruit, and boom, you got yourself a meal. This has become a cliche, I know, but nothing compares to being able to grow your food. It directly connects you to the source, the seasons, the earth, and the inspiration in your kitchen. Not to mention, having a garden and being able to feed yourself, family and community is truly one of life’s necessities and ultimate luxuries. And, as you know, when you travel, you are limited to the supermarket to mostly shop where almost everything is questionably fresh and imported from somewhere else. You quickly realize how challenging it is actually to get fresh produce. The best thing to do (and one of my favorite things while traveling) is to seek out the local farmer’s market. You will not only be supporting the local farmers, but you will find the best freshest stuff in whatever town. Some towns we drove through in our RV were so small; they just had a basket of their backyard seasonal harvest in front of their homes with a money box to drop. Backyard country farmers everywhere — thank you!
But, as you know, we are moving onto a boat, traveling in the sea, with no ground to plant and limited floor space. How the F are we going to have a garden? At first, my husband thought it was impossible, but then he began to research, tried a few indoor garden companies, and then found this genius system/company Click and Grow, that works brilliantly (pictured above). We just need to figure out where they will go, but we got fresh organic greens and herbs again. Yipeee!
Bon voyage bitches.
Originally published at https://ariaadjani.squarespace.com on January 27, 2021.
