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We are sailing off the beaten path a bit in Indonesia. We skipped joining a rally and are making it up as we go along. Our pursuit is for language and connection, fresh food, day to day life, green coffee beans, handmade fabric, some snorkeling, and volcanoes. I don’t remember when I first saw a photo of Kelimutu but it has been one of my must-go destinations. Kelimutu is a high (1639 meters/ 5377 feet) volcanic mountain on Flores, deep inland near a small village called Moni. It last errupted in 1968. There are three enormous crater lakes filled with thickly pigmented water that changes color over time. Local lore says that spirits go to the lakes, and which lake a spirit is assigned to depends on the age and character of the person who died. There is one lake for young people (Tiwu Ko’o Fai Nuwa Muri- Lake of the Young Men and Maidens), one for old (Tiwu Ata Bupu- Lake of the Old People), and one for the thieves and murderers (Tiwu Ata Polo- Bewitched or Enchanted Lakes). Photos I had seen of Kelimutu were just stunning, I have a bit of an ongoing desire to see volcanoes, and since I was going to be in this part of the world I needed to figure out a way to go. ...

“Where are you from?” they ask us. “Where is your home in America?” “How long was your flight?” It is difficult to answer and it is hard to explain in our few basic phrases. Our home has been only the boat for more than five years and San Francisco, California is written on the transom, so it’s the best answer we can offer. I think the true answer may come when I start to feel homesick. It’s the big latte at Cafe Fanny on a cold Saturday morning. It’s the vegan yuba roll ups at the Berkeley Whole Foods Market, eaten in the car after making it through the busy store. It’s the endless vegetables at the Berkeley Bowl. It’s the carne asada tostada salad at Picante Taqueria. It’s Acme bread’s big round walnut loaf worth the long lines at the Mountain View farmer’s market. It’s the roast beef sandwich I crave from Whole Foods. It’s that smell in the air in the Penny Ice Creamery. It’s the dark chocolate salt caramels at Recchiuti. Maybe home is the San Francisco Bay Area after all. ...

I’m sitting in the City Library. Olive is watching Minecraft videos and Vick is reading a cookbook. This is the place where I spend the majority of my waking hours recently. It’s been my “office” for the last several months. This is the place where plantefunder.org took its new shape. The colors and sounds are so familiar that they have become my norm. Boat, Library, Gardens, Library, Boat. That’s my daily route. Even the handful of coffee shops I frequent aren’t as comfortable as this space has become. ...

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. ...

From time to time, in the course of my travels, people have asked me about “home.” By this they usually mean the USA in general or one of the specific places I’ve lived. When I talk about the good things, I almost always start and end with community. I tend to describe (my) New England as a place where community is valued highly, and then give specific examples of the types of activities that illustrate this value. The coffee social we organized when we lived Mountain View was one common example, but this New Year’s Eve will be my new favorite (if I can find a way to encapsulate it). ...

Life is an Adventure. There are as many ways to experience that adventure as there are (have been, and will be) people. In the interest of creating a readable post I will now slay my own pet peeve and propose this fictional dichotomy. Imagine for a moment a world so simple that it has only two types of people. Wanderers and Planters. Each of these types are dedicated to spending their lives learning, spreading happiness, building community, making the world more beautiful, and ultimately defining their own meaning for it all. Each of them has their own distinct modality, but is one better suited to achieving the goals than the other? ...

I wasn’t at home when we were tied into slip A58 in Monterey Harbor. I was homesick. Surprising yes, since I was on my own boat, tied up with my usual dock lines, cooking in my own galley, and sleeping in my own bed. I spent my time in Monterey constantly checking the three forecast areas on NOAA to find our perfect weather window to head north. Again, I was surprised at myself. The trip north is usually hard, wet, and cold. Our boat is in great shape and we could actually (foolishly) cash in Tucker’s retirement accounts and head south for at least a year. I always want to go south, or anywhere warmer than wherever I am. But I wanted to go north, to go home. ...

There are dozens of reasons to love living on a boat. Some adore the gentle rocking as they fall to sleep; some like the gorgeous view from their cockpit and decks; some the ability to take their home on vacation with them; and others cherish the simplicity of living small. I’m sure the list goes on. For me though the thing I love most is the dockside social scene. At first I thought I had just lucked into the world’s best marina but now that we have spent a week in Santa Cruz harbor, I’m starting to believe that there is a universal chattiness amongst sailors. ...

Last week I wrote a post on forgeover about the first chapter in my water heater replacement. To summarize, it didn’t go so well. I felt defeated before I even began, and things only went downhill from there. Today was a completely different story. I woke up with the knowledge that I had to install this beast today, and that I was going to have to squeeze the chore in between long anticipated visits with my sister, brother in law, and nephew. Vick got me started on the right foot: “You’re going to do it, it’s going to be easy, and you’re going to feel GREAT when its done.” That was exactly the pep talk I needed and it probably made the difference between 90% success and utter failure. ...

Today sucked royally. I started the day saddled with the dread of a project (replacing the hot water heater) that I just knew was going to go badly. This project was going to go badly because: I couldn’t get to all of the fittings to measure what size they were and therefore didn’t know for sure what to buy to replace them. The old water heater may have or may not have fit out through the available hole… Oh no. It didn’t. The beginning of the project involved cutting the safety net (all of the hoses, strapping, and electrical) thereby completely committing me to raving success or miserable failure. The space that I had to work in was miserably small, virtually guarantying several minor concussions, gashes, and bruises (check, check, and check) The very best that I had hoped for was to get enough done that I could safely turn on the pressure water in the evening (cold only) to do the dishes from the margaritas. So after a grumpy breakfast, and a grumpy trip to the chandlery and the hardware store, I grumpily made by way back down the dock with not quite enough parts to complete the project, and a pretty bad attitude. I was short tempered all morning, and when I finally remeasured the new hot water heater and found that it was something like 10" too tall for the space it was going into, I was pretty certain that I was going to go stratospheric. When I then remeasured the old heater and found that there was no possible way to get it out without removing the countertop, I thought I would cry. ...

Can critically evaluating your relationship lead to a happier healthier self while simultaneously improving the relationship?

This is it. As of Monday we are officially live-aboards. To me that means that, starting on Monday, I will come home to the boat, sleep on the boat and wake up on the boat every day for the foreseeable future. This is deeply comforting to me. To Vick it means a week (only a week) of final push to sell everything that we own that doesn’t fit this new life, or doesn’t fit in the boat/manvan/storage unit. Monday is not deeply comforting to Vick. ...