Cruising

Some might say that it is the very definition of madness to winter over in Maine and leave for the tropics as summer begins to burst onto the scene. Those people would be absolutely correct. Nevertheless, that is just what we have done. The trip from Portland to Grenada took us within shouting distance of Bermuda, was entirely upwind, and graced us with a Gulf Stream crossing that was a low scale version of the worst conditions we could have hoped against (wind against current). The first few days had much of the crew horizontal and green. ...

A few days ago I was told that my dorades were dusty. The next day another person mentioned how dirty my decks were. And yet another person asked me why I had so much crap in my cockpit. All of these criticisms hit me deeply and personally and brought back every single boat insult ever slung my way. I emotionally fled to a perfectly polished tiny cottage where I could live alone in shiny silence with a hand blown glass vase full of pink peonies on the table and not a single crumb on the floor. ...

The pace of life aboard Convivia has shifted. The hectic days of boatyard stress are behind us, as are the days in the Marina, fixing those last few (critical) systems. We’ve found a sleepy beachfront to anchor in front of and, with no transportation, have settled into leisurely days of kids floating beside the boat, easy conversation, and no plans to speak of. This transition to cruising-proper is one that you can’t see but in hindsight. I think it started three or four days ago when we returned our scooter. It was given a boost by our recent depletion of funds, which strengthens our resolve to stay put. We’ve got another kid boat nearby (Quasar) so ours have a friend to occupy the day. They come home exhausted and hungry, and crash out early, leaving plenty of time for Vick and I to play games and share a couple of ciders. ...

We were waiting for a bus to take us somewhere and Vick looked at me and said “It’s kind of amazing, we just took off and now we are cruisers again. Heading off, looking for beaches or towns to explore, no real destinations…” It was clear that she expected it to take some reacclimation to get back into the swing of this. I remarked that I thought the ease of transition was because cruising is our natural state, and all the other things are what we have to do in order to make cruising possible. ...

We arrived in Australia almost exactly two and a half years ago. Pulling into Brisbane after 15 months of cruising seemed decidedly like the end of our adventure. We were trading sun soaked beaches, a persistent, intimate awareness of the weather, sundowners with dear friends, and nearly daily boat maintenance for the relative ease of city life, a stable job, and weather that wouldn’t really affect us. What I soon discovered was that it was just the start of a new adventure, one punctuated by forging new relationships, and building a life in a foreign country. Making this foreign country feel native—navigating the subtle cultural differences, finding our community, as well as coming to the understanding that all the animals that could kill us here, wouldn’t necessarily (under normal circumstances) want to kill us— was just as challenging and exciting as when we sailed through Mexico, or the Marquesas. ...

We spent a few lovely days at Middle Percy Island. We visited the legendary A-Frame, took a long hike up to the Homestead to visit Cate and John, and the Roundhouse to visit Steve. It was a lovely island with a storied and rich history and the current leaseholders were warm and hospitable. I’ll look forward to going back on our way south. Sadly, weather and internet forced us onward. We stopped in Scawfell Island for two days, but the internet there was too sporadic to support my work, so we were northbound again. When we arrived in Thomas Island, with it’s workable internet and gorgeous coral beaches, we knew we had made it to “North Enough.” Our weeks of searching were over. From here on up to Townsville the weather will be warm enough for Vick, the connectivity conducive to my work, and the flora and fauna rich, diverse, and unusual enough to hold the kid’s interest for days on end. Here are a few photos of our journey from Keppel.

It’s getting cold here. The crew of s/v Convivia has concluded that cold is stupid and, upon concluding that, realized that we don’t have to stand for it. We have a portable life and I have every programmer’s dream boss who said (way back when I was hired) that he didn’t care where I do my work as long as I do it well. So we have decided to take this portable lifestyle of ours and move to the Great Barrier Reef for the season*. We have to be back for the Logan’s visit in September, which gives us almost exactly 4 months to enjoy the reef. We plan to leave late May or early June (I want to be in the tropics for my birthday, if possible). ...

Is this even a term that non-cruisers know? If so, does it even mean the same thing? We went for sundowners on Condessa del Mar tonight. The last time we did that we were in a deserted island with 6 other boats, all of whom were sharing this quintessential cruiser experience. A sundowner is, technically speaking, a drink shared with friends as the sun sets. It’s misleading though because, more often than not, sundowners last until late in the evening. When the bugs have come and gone and things are finally starting to get cool; the stars are out and the milky way fills the sky, that’s when we start to notice that maybe we’ve stretched the event a little long. That’s when we start to realized that the crackers and special recipe popcorn we brought doesn’t necessarily constitute dinner, and maybe the kids should get to bed soon. ...

“I wish everyone who knew me could know the sailing me!” I posted this on Facebook today. It was one of those thoughts that popped into my head ready to publish, and didn’t require a lot of fact checking. As the day passed though, I found myself coming back to that thought. What makes the sailing me noteworthy, why do I prefer it to the geeky me, or the business me, or the city slicker me? ...

We were all excited to get to Tahiti of course. The excitement was partially because it was Tahiti and partly because it was one of the few places in the South Pacific that we were pretty certain we could receive birthday presents for Tucker and Ruby. We anchored by Marina Tahina for a bit and picked up our new spinnaker and even a wifi antenna (both shipped from the US). It was exciting to have mail from the States after many months without. ...

I’ve found myself having rather candid conversations about our finances lately. Inevitably I find myself saying “we’re skidding sideways into each paycheck.” Indeed last month we made it across the line by searching pockets for laundry money. It would, if I were inclined to look at it that way, be a realization of one of my worst pre-cruising fears. Over the last week I conducted an informal survey of cruiser friends on Facebook. Of the 16 respondents 10 cited money as one of (if not the most significant) reasons that people fail to launch their cruising dreams. In About the Crew I described how we chose to throw financial responsibility to the wind, and I thought it suiting that I take a minute to let you know how that all shook out. ...

It’s autumn here. I know that may not seem like it deserves its own line but you know what, it does! The year here starts in Summertime and then goes to Fall. Fall comes before Spring in the southern hemisphere. You can get all intellectual about this but until you feel it, you’re not going to understand why those three words get their very own line. The weather has been getting cooler but I foolishly keep pretending that everything is “normal.” So when Ceilydh asked us if we wanted to do a little mini-cruise over Easter weekend, my mis-calibrated brain thought “it should be getting warmer every day, why not.” The day before we left the forecast was for four days of solid rain. Lucky for us we got nearly perfect weather for the whole trip and had enough sun that we could almost maintain the illusion of the season our bodies were expecting. ...

Note: I wrote this post in September while making passage from Vanuatu to Australia. I was all fired up about it until Vick read it and crinkled her nose (or something like that). I relegated it to the drafts folder and forgot about it until now. Recently a bunch of this year’s puddle jumpers have asked about this topic, and I figured “what the heck” I’ll just post it in case it helps someone. If you aren’t about to go blue water cruising, I suggest you give this one a skip. If you’re leaving tomorrow, and you don’t already have an iPad, likewise, skipperoo. But if you are using an iPad for navigation and haven’t already learned these tricks, I think it would be a really good idea to read this, digest it and then ask me to fill in detail for anything that wasn’t clear. Please do leave a comment so everyone can benefit from the process. ...

It is time to bid farewell to the star filled night sky, to the meteor showers, to the dolphins that scared the crap out of me on night watch. I am just settling in to my last chocolate watch (the salty watch is 8-12, 3-6 is for chocolate); in a few hours the sun will come up and we will line up for the first of several channels that will bring us to our new home. ...

This week we had a wonderful opportunity to reflect on our first year of cruising. A mother on a group that we belong to asked for suggestions for a reluctant soon-to-be-cruising 7 year old. We mentioned it to Ru and asked if she would like to write a letter to this girl and she jumped at the chance. Here’s what she said: Hi My name is Ruby. I am 8 years old and have been cruising for a year. I left from San Francisco a year ago today with my mom and dad and little brother. I heard that you might be a little worried about cruising and I want to let you know that it is really awesome. ...