Before the Crack of Dawn

When you live on an island, sometimes you have to get up at 5:00 AM to get yourself off of said island, to a place that we like to call "America". I know some people get up at 5:00 AM on a regular basis, but we are not those people. There are only three "slow" (meaning you can bring your car on it) boats leaving Nantucket each day in the off season, and the 6:30 AM boat is one of them. Two of the boats that leave the island in the winter have you either departing or arriving in absolute blackness. Talk about winter blahs.

When you are the one departing on the 6:30 boat, the alarm goes off at 5:00 AM, you leave the warmth of your bed, fumble for clothes set aside the night before, toss back caffeine in your preferred form, and stumble out into the cold dark to dash to the ferry terminal. This always seems such an unnatural exercise - you were so warm and cozy and locked in a dream-state only moments before. There's always the fear of missing the boat and throwing off your entire schedule - the next boat does not leave until 12:30 PM. The ferry itself is cold, the air is damp and metallic, the lights are too bright, the seats are too stiff. As you cross the channel, sometimes (as today) the wind is strong and the boat is tossed and groans a bit and you reassure yourself of the seaworthiness of this vessel. You leave Nantucket in utter darkness and you arrive in Hyannis in morning's full light, and the whole trip is a blur.

If it happens that you are not the one traveling on the 6:30 boat, you still wake with the 5:00 AM alarm, but you stay in your cocoon and watch your significant other complete each stage of the routine. You tell yourself that once he leaves you'll either a) Fall back asleep, or b) Get up early and be productive. The reality is usually c) Lie in bed too long thinking about A and B. Today, however, I opted for d) Stay in pajamas, drink a pot of tea, and redesign the blog.