Living Aboard

Conserving water has been one of our biggest worries lately. With only 110 gallons of water tankage (plus whatever we can fit in cans on deck), we have a good reason to be concerned. The average Pacific crossing for a boat of our size is ~21 days. Conservative water consumption for 4 people (adults) is 2 gallons per day per person (or 8 gal/day total). We have been using about 17.5 gallons/day since we moved aboard. At that rate we would have just a little more than 6 days worth of water (sans Jerry Cans). ...

I am super King Kamehameha bushed; just completely wiped out from an overflowing fun (as Ruby would say) weekend. So I’m going to cheat and give you a little photo essay. Hopefully, one of the family or I will come back and fill in the details. In the meantime, check out these beautiful photos.

I was all excited to start working on the new windlass install when I heard Olive yell, “Daaaaddyy. Can you please turn on the light. I can’t do it.” Within minutes I was tearing the boat apart looking for the source of the problem. A problem that got worse as I went. Before the end of the following day we had no lights in the aft cabin or galley. What’s worse, most of the cable for those lights were the original 40 year old run, so it was built right into one of the few parts of the boat that I have no access to. My only recourse was to rewire the whole system. ...

Say hello to a stranger on the street. If they look interesting and willing to chat walk with them up the block. Tucker met Andrea in Vermont many years ago this way and we had such a great time with her. Make friends with a friend of a friend. You see someone at a friend’s party and then the next one and so on. At some point, have dinner with the friend of the friend and see what happens. ...

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 was hard. I’m not sure what aspect of the work/life package was hardest, but it wasn’t just me. The whole family was under strain. By Friday I knew we needed a reset. “We’re going sailing tomorrow,” I told Vick as we were cleaning up from dinner. Saturday morning, we all woke up early and got moving. I’m glad we didn’t set the timer because the clean-up may have taken more than one hour. Still by 11ish we were ready to get under way. I was fiddling with something on deck when our friend and fellow cruiser Carl stopped by. “You guys going out today?” she asked. “Yup, probably out to the Gate and back, it looks like a great day for it, want to come along?” “No thanks, we’re going out too. After I pick Christina up, we’re going to drop anchor at Clipper Cove, do you want to go too?” At this point I’m thinking, “Victoria would never go for this.” but when she popped her head out and asked what we were talking about I implored Carl to talk her into it. I was relieved when I noticed the signs of her wheels turning as she figured out what we would need to do to get ready. “I guess we’ll need ice,” she finally said. ...

Most landlubbers take for granted that making a bed consists of removing linens from the closet (or what-have-you) and spreading them over a rectangular surface. For the salty amongst us, the chore begins the same way but quickly devolves to wrestling rectangular bedding around the odd and unaccommodating shapes that berths tend to come in. In our case the traditional vee-berth came with the added challenge of the affectionately named Chastity Cable. Because of this lovely piece of below decks rigging, we don’t have a need for the little wedge shaped piece the many vee-berths have and we require either two completely independent sets of sheets and covers, or some clever way to work around the obstacle with one. ...

If you’ve been wondering how the kids feel about this transition… [cue cheesy infomercial voice] …and if you liked “going marina” you’ll love some of these other instant classics. “I can’t wait to tell Anika about Oakland, there’s so many things to see” — Ruby “Me going to live on a sailboat… with no bathtub” — Olive “I’m not sure which of my things I’m going to sell quite yet, but I’ll think about it” — Ruby (spontaneously) ...