TransAtlantic Day 14: He Ate My Plant!

We’ll be back on land in two days, with cars and malls and all the normal stuff that normal people have and do everyday. We were normal once. Had the house, the car, and the garden in a few different cities like Atlanta, Pittsburgh, Syracuse, and Raleigh.

Of all the things about “normal”, I miss the plants and herbs the most. We had the most amazing sage plant, woody and robust with leaves just begging to go into your baked chicken.

At the risk of sounding like a Paul Simon song, yes we had “parsley sage rosemary and thyme” to go with our tomatoes and basil that grew so huge in the summer we swore it was some kind of mutant plant from Little Shop of Horrors.

How Amari Got Plants

So when we strolled through the Carrefour in Cartagena, Spain and Dottie saw potting soil, it was like someone had cast a spell over my wife, with an almost trancelike voice and that far away stare.

Remember dirt? Mmmm, I want to put my fingers in it … we have to get some!

Her mind, now feverish with uncontrolled gardenlust, started scanning the shelves like a junkie in need of a hit.

“We need pots”, she intoned. To which I replied, “You do know we live on a B. O. A. T., right? On the water?” She didn’t respond to my question, confirming both it’s irrelevance and her need to find a plant pusher. “Just a couple,” she said.

Then it happened. She eyed the plant section.

Her movement slowed somewhat as she edged forward, like she didn’t want to startle them on approach.

Why did it feel like we were getting kittens?

“Hey, look at this one”, she said pointing to a nice healthy basil plant. I held that basil and it looked right back at me with those beautiful green leaves. And like friggin kittens, once you pick them up, they are yours.

Unlike kittens I suppose, I’m thinking about chopping these up and throwing them into my food: Caprese salad, pasta sauces, etc.

Next was the mint plant, which instantly gave me religious visions of mojitos accompanied by choirs of angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus! And aww, look at the cute little woody rosemary plant that we could take home, chop up and put into white bean dip.

Is it a garden? No, not so much. Have I gotten mojito 1 out of little mister mint? Nope and likely will never. But adding these plants to Amari’s cockpit does two important things.

It gives a little green splash of color that reminds us both of growing things. But also, it’s like aroma therapy - whenever you pass your hand over them you get that fresh mint, almost anise-like fragrance from the basil, and that earthy rosemary.

The Near Death Experience

So typically on the SV Amari when morning happens, coffee quickly follows, then we go up into the cockpit to welcome the day and to slowly ease our brains back on line. Job one is to give our babies just a little water, to get them through the warm and sunny day in the cockpit.

That’s when Dottie saw it. The mint plant was demolished! Practically denuded! Something had chewed up most of the leaves. How could this happen!?

Then we saw him. An inch worm, right there brazenly lingering on the one of the few remaining twigs of my mint plant! There he was all plump after his gorge fest all nighter, still morning-drunk on my mint no doubt.

Little bastard ate my plant.

I’m not sure how he thought his day was going to go, but he suddenly found himself in the ocean. No doubt some fish gobbled him up and thought, mmm minty fresh!

Anyway, no need to send cards, flowers, and get well balloons, the mint plant has made a full recovery and is doing well. The inch worm, not so much.

Tales of a Galley Slave

Two dinners left to make on this passage. We have a ton of meat in the freezer, but just enough fresh stuff to eek out one last Greek salad with tomatoes, cucumber, onion, feta and black olives. The baby red potatoes were also a big hit last time and there were a couple of those rolling around in the cabinet.

And we figured that the chicken will need to be eaten before the pork, so thighs it is.

Great, so. Thighs. With what? That’s the issue. I can put them in the oven on their own to dry out into shoe leather, but they're telling me that they really want a sauce or something.

So while pondering these mysteries, I bought myself some time by tossing oil in a pan. “That pan looks like it wants some garlic”. And later it added that it wanted some chili flakes for heat, and oregano because it just feels like its turning into a Mediterranean kind of thing tonight.

Glancing in the cupboard, oh look, sun-dried tomatoes. That’ll work with my new theme!! And for the liquid needed in the pan to keep them moist, I poured in the remaining red wine from my glass and mixed it through.

I kept the lid on to keep the fluids brewing until the very end. It turned out to be quite delicious, and the crew was well satisfied.

Tomorrow is our last meal on the transatlantic passage, and I’m not sure what’s on that menu just yet. But who knows, maybe I’ll graze past the herbs and get a whiff of inspiration that may land us in Asia, Thailand, or France. World travel, Amari style.