Sailboat

We had the boat ship shape and ready to rock by the time Deneb and Seren showed up at 10:30. The kids were overflowing with excitement to have little Seren aboard, and just couldn’t wait to show him everything. Seren, warmed up to the chaos and excitement much more quickly than I would have expected (being his second time aboard a boat). After a quick detour at the pump out we made our way, ever so carefully, out the channel. We were worried about the latent tsunami effects and the low tide, but between the chart plotter and the crew’s watchful eyes, we made it out at dead low tide without a snag. Once safely out of the harbor we were greeted with the sight of several races, replete with their golden and graphite sails, underway all around us. I engaged the tiller pilot (or Otto, as Deneb dubbed it) and headed up to the mast to raise sail. We quickly killed the diesel and everyone exhaled and inhaled the warm(ish) salty spring air. ...

A four year old friend of ours wants to know why we live on a boat. Her mom said it was so we could travel around the world. “Planes are faster. In case you maybe didn’t know that,” she replied. “Is it so nice as all that?” asked the mole, shyly… “Nice? It’s the only thing,” said the Water Rat Solemnly, as he leaned forward for his stroke. “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” ...

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. ...

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. ...

We went to the boat show today, and we’re going again tomorrow. The going today part isn’t particularly big news, after all this is our 11th consecutive show but it does feel different. Part of what is different is that we’ve got our boat all but purchased, and can legitimately talk about it as if its ours. For some reason that small distinction has made today catalytic for me. I’ll admit, I’ve been tender this week. Okay, perhaps I’ve been raw, and a little hard to be around. I can’t help it. So much of our last 10 years of dreaming, and 5 years of debt reduction, saving, planning and dreaming some more is now coming together in a chaotic maelstrom of activity. I haven’t really got a clue about half (or more) of the things that I am responsible for, and I don’t have enough hours in the day to get a clue. ...

I wish I could think up a clever analogy for buying a boat. It would be gratifying to package this whole experience up in a tidy little cliche and dispense that wisdom to people who, like us, are suffering the tumultuous ups and downs of buying a circumnavigating sailing vessel on a small budget. Maybe, “Buying a boat is like high school girlfriends… but without the kissing.” I have fallen in love 3 times in 3 weeks. So far, no kisses. Maybe its a little melodramatic to say that these inanimate objects have “dumped me.” After all, my sentience should give me the upper hand in these relationships, but if you ask my wife, she’ll corroborate. I am reduced to a sappy, romantic, drooling boy when presented with high combings, a butterfly hatch, or a fancy cabin. I even tell myself not to let my emotions cloud my judgment, but its no use. ...

Its Christmas Eve and as exciting as tomorrow promises to be the thing that Ruby and Olive claim to be most excited about is the sailing trip. That’s right, when given the choice between presents or sailing Ruby said she was more excited about sailing. In preparation, Victoria and I are frantically working down the todo list. Here’s what the next few days look like Our good friends Sarah and Ricky are stopping by for a lightning visit this afternoon. Tonight we make our traditional Christmas Eve dinner. This year we’re adding Peppermint Molten Chocolate Cakes to the feast. After dinner we’ll do a video chat with Papa Verne and Gramora where Papa V. will read “The Night Before Christmas” (another family tradition.) After the kids fall asleep we’ll pack everything up for the trip, put out the presents, and hopefully get to bed early. In addition to the expected Christmas morning hullabaloo we will be preparing to leave (at noon? really?), and video chatting with the Logans. We’ll drive down to LA and spend the night there. Early on the 26th we will drive over to the marina where Vick will drop me off to do the check-in. She’ll head over to WF in Santa Monica to provision and we’ll hopefully be on the water by 11am. I’ve been told that the sail is ~7hrs to Two Harbors so we’ll be racing against the clock to get to the mooring before dark. ...