Readying Themselves

The passengers have completed their training, and last night was a space for steam to evaporate from some intense hearts and minds.
Dr. Bill, out there and gung-ho, a guy who probably hollors in a cowboy style at the operating table - was on the deck playing tunes, and the team drank, danced and conversed with lightness.
I drank Ouzo like it was a spiritual balm.
It was a pleasing sight to see our intrepid friends moving and smiling, so many hopes and fears within.
Right now I would like to hug, bless and gift each one with protection, love and power.

With the many delays, I won't get to see the boats, I won't see how such an amount of cargo - medicines, hearing aids, gifts, footballs, a large food supply, and 4000 litres of water - manage to fit inside the vessels. I won't find out who snores, and who can't sleep because of it. I won't experience the 'Big Brother' experience of communal living with several tv cameras. I won't share the sublime hope as they set sail. A hope that has support from around the world.

The hearing aids are for hospitals in Gaza who have a huge need for thousands of them. As bombing has increased, so too has the damage on childrens ears.

We've made four banners, 2 in English - 'End Occupation', 'Break The Siege'. And 2 in Arabic - phonically g'Na-nu kha-de-moon and el hurrea gaza. These translate as 'We are Coming' (used in rescue situations and without any sexual connotations!), and 'Freedom For Gaza'.

I slept and slept today, the hangover released into dreams. The rest of this day and evening I shall work, possibly another night into the wee but cool small hours.