Snorkeling

Cruising the Leewards

/ megankdowney1 / 3 Comments

A few days ago, we had a lovely sail from the Saints in southern Guadeloupe to Portsmouth, Dominica. The leg was mostly a beam reach, which meant the boat settled into her groove nicely, comfortably. We sliced through the waves at an average of 7 knots boat speed and Clarity was at a reasonable heel.

It was a nice change of pace from our usual sails this season. But more on that in a bit.

The Leeward Islands have been one incredible destination after another, with gorgeous terrain, fascinating cultures and amazing people. Here’s a photo gallery of the places we’ve been blessed to experience thus far. Keep reading below the photos!

 

I’m embarrassed to say that before this season, I was pretty uneducated on the Leeward and Winward island chains. I had never heard of places like Saba, or Statia, or the Saints in Guadeloupe. And some of the islands I only became familiar with as they dominated the headlines during hurricane season last year.

I also had an ignorant mindset that the islands were similar, albeit a breathtaking repetition. It could not be further from the truth.

These amazing places have been one eye-opening exploration after another, all with their own topographies, their own cultures, their own vibe.

Some have one volcano that dominates the terrain. Others, like Dominica, have nine, and other islands, like Anguilla, are flat as a pancake. Some have powdery white beaches, while others have black volcanic sand that sparkles for miles.

We often find ourselves pausing as we plan our next stop to ask, okay, is the next island its own country? Is it part of the French West Indies? Dutch West Indies? Is it a British Overseas Territory? What currency do they use there? All of the French islands, for instance, are on the Euro, while the other islands use the Eastern Caribbean Dollar, and some islands still accept the U.S. dollar. Our shore bag has become a kaleidoscope of currencies.

Even each French island has its own feel. In St. Barts and St. Martin (the French half anyway), the locals were able to communicate in basic English due to the steady tourism there, and would politely switch if they heard me struggling with French. In Guadeloupe, though, hardly anyone speaks English. Though it can be challenging at times, since Aaron and I have never learned French, it’s also forced me to work on some basic phrases, which we should be doing anyway. We are in their country after all! And it’s another great learning experience for Claire.  It’s painfully cute to hear her say, in her lilting voice as we leave a store, “Au revoir; Merci.”

In St. Barts, it was all about luxury – beautiful shops, expensive restaurants and charming little streets that oozed wealth. We saw some of the most breathtaking beaches there, too, though our first black sand beach on St. Kitts ranks up there, too. Guadeloupe, however, was more rugged, especially in Deshaies, a sleepy little fishing village on the north coast. The town was mostly locals, and the locals have café and croissant each morning at the bakery. The waterfront restaurants were simple, though the cuisine was anything but, and all around the massive island was lush, green, wet rainforest. Absolutely beautiful.

The daily schedule on the French islands, if you want to call it that, is somewhat consistent. People wake up early and head to town. Just after lunch, all of the businesses close for at least two or three hours, and the streets become a ghost town. Around 4 or 4:30 p.m., some of the shops may open up again. Restaurants don’t reopen until 7 p.m. for dinner, or whenever the chef happens to drop back in. Everything shuts by midday Saturday, and stays closed all of Sunday. Many shops follow their own hours, though – perhaps they’ll open that day, perhaps they won’t. C’est la vie.

Other islands, like St. Kitts, Montserrat, and Dominica are louder and livelier. The rasta culture is strong and the islanders are warm and inviting. Bars and restaurants stay open late, especially on Friday and Saturday, with music pumping well into the night. Locals at the pool hall welcome you for a match, and others are more than happy to sit down with you and tell you about their family and their experiences growing up on these islands. Montserrat was a particularly moving stop for us in this regard, as many of the locals lived through the eruptions of the Soufriere Hills volcano from 1995 to 2012. Hearing firsthand accounts of these catastrophic events helped us better understand and appreciate the resilience of these amazing people.

Living in these places, rather than just visiting as tourists, has allowed us to settle into the rhythm of each place and truly dig in. What an incredible gift, the three of us being able to soak up these islands like traveling sponges.

The sailing, though, has been a bit of a challenge. We had the idea that once we left the Virgin Islands, we would get the Anegada passage under our belt – our last major haul east – and then have moderate sails with just a little more easting from St. Martin south. The reality has been much choppier.

The Anegada was the first wake-up call from the easy sailing in the Virgin Islands. It kicked our butts, quite frankly. The first 12 hours after leaving Leverick Bay, BVIs, was manageable, with moderate but consistent seas. However, at midnight, a line of squalls we had been watching grew and then surrounded us. Using our new radar, we veered off course to try and avoid the worst, but there was no escaping them.

For the next 16 hours, it was squall after squall after squall, regularly pushing us off course, all the way to Marigot Bay, St. Martin. And the squalls turned the seas into a washing machine. Claire and I were both horribly sick, leaving Aaron at the helm for the duration. There’s a quote from Mark Twain about seasickness: “At first, you are so sick that you are afraid you will die, and then you are so sick you are afraid you won’t die. “ That pretty much sums it up.

From that passage on, it’s been mostly upwind leg after upwind leg (close-reaches as we call it, rather than a hard-beat). The trade winds have been strong this season, with few periods of easing. With each hop to the next stop, there was inevitably some easting, which meant we were beating into it. For those reading this who don’t sail, this is about the most uncomfortable sailing there is, especially for a monohull. The boat is dramatically heeled, which makes climbing around topsides an impressive obstacle course and getting anything down below basically not worth it. Finally dropping the anchor, only to be met with a tornado down below, is not exactly awesome. Nor is your glass casserole dish flying out of the oven and shattering all over the galley while underway. (God bless you, Aaron, for cleaning up that one.)

Also, since we’re out sailing the Atlantic, the seas in general are always kicked up, so unless we want to wait a month or two in each port for that epic weather window, we’re out in four-foot seas, minimum, with six-foot typical. Aside from the Anegada, I’ve been able to keep my seasickness in check, but unfortunately Claire has not been so fortunate.   It’s been much better the last few sails, thank God, but for a while, she was sick every time we pulled anchor.

Beam reaches and downwind sailing are much more comfortable – the boat is less extreme, Claire and I can go down below, and we’re usually still maintaining a screaming pace. We want more of this!

Luckily, though I might be jinxing myself here, we seem to be at the end of the easting tunnel, and it should be smoother sailing from here on out to Grenada. And even with the stresses that the sails have brought in the last few months, the payoff of these incredible family experiences has been more than worth it. The boat has been treating us so well, with very few issues that need fixing or addressing.

Which brings me to our plan for hurricane season and next year! Aaron and I have had a lot of time to talk through possible trajectories. The first decision we made was to sail the boat to Grenada for hurricane season, rather than turn around at some point to head back to Puerto Rico. There are a number of reasons why, but two primary ones. First, there will be a ton of kid boats there for Claire. Two, we will be able to still do some cruising around that area during the season, rather than having to stay put, like we did in Luperon, Dominican Republic.

As we’ve been making our way down the island chain, we’ve also had to blast through some islands and skip others altogether just to get further south before the hurricane season ramps up. As a result, we’ve felt that we haven’t had a chance to fully explore this gorgeous area as thoroughly as we’d like. And, our Anegada nightmare has made us realize that we likely are not ready yet for passages of more than a few days, at most.

So, we’ve decided to do the Caribbean again next season! This time, we’ll be heading north from Grenada and will follow the general arc west, so NO EASTING – woohoo!! There’s so much more to see, and now we’ll be able to do it comfortably, both in terms of schedule and sailing.

Our insurance company is requiring that we get Clarity to Grenada by July 1, so we’ll be keeping a moderate pace as we continue south for the next month. Then, we’ll get her settled while we fly to the States mid-July to visit friends and family for a few weeks.

It’s hard to believe that it’s already June, and to realize how far we’ve come. I often forget that we started this season all the way back in the Dominican Republic. Aaron also did the tally of our miles so far in the last two seasons, and it comes to just shy of 3,000 miles. Here’s a tally of all of the islands we’ve visited just since Puerto Rico:

  • Culebra, Spanish Virgin Islands
  • St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands
  • St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands
  • Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands
  • Beef Island, British Virgin Islands
  • Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands
  • Great Dog, British Virgin Islands
  • St. Martin/ St. Maarten
  • St. Barts
  • St. Kitts
  • Nevis
  • Montserrat
  • Guadeloupe
  • The Saints, Guadeloupe
  • Dominica

It’s funny, people don’t seem to ask anymore how long we’re doing this. No end date in site.

Back On Track in the Virgin Islands

/ megankdowney1 / 1 Comment

Be still my heart! My favorite salty sailors posing at the top of Virgin Gorda.

Spanish, U.S., British…. The Virgin Islands have given us the medicine we so desperately needed.

The day we dropped anchor in Ensenada Honda off of Culebra, I wasn’t sure it was real. As you all know, we had spent the last month or more in the weeds with both expected and unexpected boat work, and all of the challenges that came with life on the hard.

The very same day we did the short, successful test sail just outside of Puerto del Rey to check our brand new rigging, Aaron looked at me and said, “Let’s go to Culebra.” We just couldn’t get off that dock fast enough.

Since then, life has been pretty great. Charming towns, beautiful beaches, calm but full sails. Swimming, snorkeling, diving, fishing. Beachside birthday parties, sunset campfires and late-night jam sessions on uke and guitar. Despite our extended stay in Puerto Rico, we were able to catch up to some great friends on S/V Freedom, Chasing Waterfalls, Griffin and Upside Up. Our tanks have been full.

That’s not to say that there haven’t been boat problems – there have, but nothing that Aaron hasn’t been able to assess and fix rather quickly. (I’m always so amazed at his ability to troubleshoot). Finding connection for me to continue working has been a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. And yes, we’ve seen some absolutely unbelievable devastation as a result of the hurricanes – more on that in another post – but we’ve also found incredible beauty and have finally been able to drop the hook in places we’ve been hearing about from other cruisers for years.

For now, I will let these images speak for themselves. We’ve been back at it about a month now and once the current blow passes and the weather opens up, likely early next week, we will tackle the last longer sail of this season – 80+ miles through the Anegada Passage – over to St. Martin or Saba, pending wind direction.

How crazy, the change in temperature between my last post and this one. This life is one wild ride.

Delicious tacos and fresh margaritas at Zaco’s in Culebra, Spanish Virgin Islands
I’m a huge fan of any bar/restaurant that includes a swing!
Huge tarpon circle Coconut while docked at Mamacita’s in Culebra
We were so lucky to catch up to s/v Chasing Waterfalls in Culebra! Their girls spent an afternoon playing princess on Clarity
Flamenco Beach, Culebra – one of my favorites so far.
A few decades back, the military used these tanks on Flamenco Beach for target practice.
Gak! One of my go-to homemade toys to keep Claire entertained on a passage.
Our first night at anchor in the U.S. Virgin Islands! Sunset off of Brewer’s Bay, St. Thomas
Hook down, flag flying in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas
So many treasures found in Christmas Cove, St. Thomas
Sunset off of Caneel Bay, St. John
Our little bug, scootin’ her way through St. John
A quaint little church in Cruz Bay
Plenty of devastation in Cruz Bay, St. John, but plenty of beautiful scenery, too.
Always so great to see stickers from buddy boats! Note to self: must order Clarity stickers…
Dusk in Francis Bay, St. John
While on a mooring in Francis Bay, we hiked over to breathtaking Leinster Bay
Ruins of the Annaberg Sugar Plantation, Leinster Bay
This crazy crew celebrated my birthday with a toast at Skinny Legs in Coral Bay, St. John.
Finally made it to the BVIs! We cleared in at Great Harbor, Jost Van Dyke. Here, Claire celebrates with a cupcake from Foxy’s.
A local volunteer was selling cupcakes and homemade jewelry to help raise money for the local school, which was devastated in the hurricanes. Not more than a half hour after we cleared in, Claire was already helping them try to sell their wares to tourists.
The devastation caused by the hurricanes was evident almost everywhere, but nowhere was it as moving as Jost.
Painkillers at Soggy Dollar, White Bay, Jost Van Dyke, BVIs.
Clarity and Chasing Waterfalls at Soggy!
Yes, it makes complete sense, when you live in a very small space, with one table, to use that table to do a massive puzzle! It sure was fun though 🙂
We caught up to Upside Up just in time for Henry to join us and Chasing Waterfalls for a birthday beach party for Claire at Trellis Bay off Beef Island!
Full Moon Party, Trellis Bay, Beef Island,
After celebrating Claire’s birthday, we hopped over to Virgin Gorda to do the Baths, something that has been on my bucket list for a long time. It did not disappoint!
Butterflies were everywhere on the trails around the Baths
The beach at Little Trunk Bay, where we anchored to dinghy over to the Baths
Sunset at Savannah Bay, Virgin Gorda
There’s a new princess in town! I kept an eye on the kiddos while on a mooring ball off of Great Dog Island while the adults went for a dive and caught some absolutely delicious dinner!
Anchored just off of Mosquito Island, owned by Richard Branson
Leverick Bay, Virgin Gorda! Great pool, great bar, great pirate show, great anchorage!
Captain Steve on Chasing Waterfalls rented a pickup-truck-turned-tour-bus and we toured breathtaking Virgin Gorda by land.
So many blond curls with these cuties! Chasing Waterfalls rolls with three girls.
A dolphin on the bow! What a rush – another bucket list item on our way to Anegada
Fish on! Too bad he was a barracuda, so we had to throw him back. But it sure was an adventure getting him on deck! This was during the same two-hour sail as the dolphin-spotting. It was quite the afternoon!
The last-minute decision to head out to Anegada gave us one of our most memorable sails yet! We spent the next day cramming three boats into two cars and hitting up every beach we could find.
The laid-back vibe at Loblolly Bay, Anegada. Unfortunately, the reef just offshore was pretty destroyed. But the drinks were cold and the waters were blue!
Our Anegada play-day coincided with Layla’s birthday! Her mom, Johanna, planned an awesome adventure hunt on the beach to celebrate.
Aaron used the magnifying glass to burn our name into a piece of bamboo. He then hung it at the bar at Loblolly.
Cow Wreck Beach Bar, Anegada
A birthday cake with edible butterflies?! Mind. Blown!
I have a picture almost exactly like this from a year ago. It’s so awesome Claire and Henry (and us parents) have found a way to stay connected for two seasons!
What could be better than a sunset campfire on the beach?!
Sunset at Cow Bay, Virgin Gorda, BVIs

Puerto Rico: One Week In

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Princess Claire takes the stage in the Parguera town square

Truthfully, we didn’t really know what to expect when we arrived in Puerto Rico.

Aaron had done research on the areas we planned to travel to, and we had both reached out to people we knew who were already here, to get a pulse on things. But the news reports and social media blasts ping-ponged between “We have no help! Things are dire!” and “Puerto Rico is bouncing back!” We still felt like we were sailing in blind.

From our first stop in Puerto Real on the west coast, the damage from Maria has been ever-present. Wrecked and abandoned boats clung to the mangroves in the bays, piles of debris lined some of the alleys and highways. Some businesses were still shuttered.

But also from our first night here, we were surprised – lights were twinkling, towns seemed to be bustling. Most importantly, everyone was celebrating, as we unknowingly arrived the weekend of Three Kings’ Day, an important part of the Christmas holiday celebration here.

The towns and cities that we visited along the west coast are more or less up and running, with electricity (albeit spotty sometimes, and backed up by generators when needed), water and the fastest cell connection I’ve had since before we were in the DR. The cosmetic damage is apparent, but good bones are there, too. As we rounded the cape to the south coast, we found the areas to be thriving. And seeing stores stocked with some of our favorite things from the States – Twizzlers, anyone! – has been a treat.

Aaron and I have never been to Puerto Rico and I’m realizing that this is may be a blessing. The mountains on the west coast are beautiful, varying shades of brown and a bit greener toward the north. I can imagine that they were much more lush before Maria, but they are still breathtaking.

While anchored off the southwest town of Parguera, we spent four days snorkeling the turquoise waters around the mangrove islands, reveling in the soft sand and watching the butterflies and sandpipers weave in and out of the little mangrove forests.

One night, we packed into Coconut and rode out to a nearby bioluminescent bay. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. The water behind our prop was like glow-in-the-dark paint, florescent arcs circling the dinghy as we splashed. When we were completely still and looked down, it was as though we were staring into an underwater night sky filled with thousands of lightning bugs. Claire was transfixed. We all were.

I have no idea if those mangrove islands were greener five months ago, if the bird population was more plentiful. And I don’t know if the bioluminescent bay was brighter before Maria. But I do know that visiting it was an experience I’ll never forget.

We made landfall in Puerto Rico in the area least impacted by Maria, and as we continue east along the southern coast, we know the damage will worsen. Ponce is our next big stop, and after that, Salinas, where, as I’m typing this, they are still without power.

As we were crossing the Mona from Samana, DR, I was excited, but I was also scared that I would miss the DR dreadfully. I do miss it, but Puerto Rico has surprised me. The people we’ve met have been so kind, the places we’ve visited beautiful in their own right. We sail tomorrow morning for Ponce – who knows what adventures await.

The cliffs at the point behind Faro Los Morrillos, the lighthouse on the southwest cape of Cabo Rojo.
Puente de Piedra, a short walk from the lighthouse at Cabo Rojo
Gorgeous graffiti in downtown Boqueron
Burgers and craft beers in Boqueron
Climbing trees in Rincon
Our little fish
Aaron snorkeling along one of the mangrove channels
Swimming off the boardwalk on Isla Mata La Gata
These adorable homes lined the mangrove shoreline of Parguera
Parguera
At night in Parguera, the Plaza San Pedro comes alive with food vendors, craft kiosks, live music and….betting games with dominoes?
Friends Cafe – a little coffee shop in Parguera’s town center! Strangely, they were never open in the morning or afternoon. They did not open until 7 p.m. No problem for this caffeine junky!
The waters around Parguera were protected by reefs, creating some great kiteboarding conditions when the winds piped up.

First-Year Reflections

/ megankdowney1 / 3 Comments

Our monkey, at home climbing trees on the beach in Luperon, DR.

One of the questions I received most often from friends and family while back in the States was, “So how much longer are you going to do this?”

Spoiler alert: I have no idea. It could be a few months, or a few years. But one person phrased it a bit differently. She said, in a completely non-judgmental way, “Are you done?”

She was asking because I had just detailed the laundry list of challenges we faced in the past year. As my response came tumbling out of my mouth, I surprisingly found myself uttering a succinct thought that I hadn’t voiced before, maybe hadn’t even realized before. But it’s at the crux of everything for me.

“I don’t want to stop living a life that challenges me, that kicks me in the butt, in the best ways and in the hardest ways.”

Crew Clarity has officially completed a full year of cruising. Strangely enough, the anniversary came and went in mid-July, while we were in the States, completely oblivious to the milestone. We were too busy to notice. Life in the States is defined by busyness.

But the time away from the boat allowed me to reflect on this crazy ride we’ve been on, to recognize what went to plan and what didn’t, to see the ups and downs for what they were, and to gain the perspective you can only find with distance – literal and figurative.

Here are some thoughts on our first year.

 

First-Year Projection: Life on the boat will be so much cheaper!

Reality: Not really. And this is for a number of reasons.

  1. Our first cruising grounds were the Bahamas, one of the most expensive places you can go in terms of the cost of food, the price to do anything on land (eat out, rent a car, book a tour), and the charges for having (much-needed) boat parts shipped from the States.
  2. While we don’t have a mortgage or car payments, we still currently have two boat payments. Yep, two. Our Pearson in Chicago still hasn’t sold. Sigh… It’s a long story. And for that one, in addition to the loan payments, we have yard storage fees. This is killing us.
  3. While healthcare in general is much, much cheaper pretty much anywhere but the States, certain atypical situations come with a hefty price tag. Like, say, sticking a bean up one’s nose. And then refusing to let any doctors try to get it out. Tallying up to $4,000 – yep, you read that right – our “bean incident” gave our cruising budget a huge blow, and this was only two weeks into our international travels.
  4. Boat crap is expensive. Sure, we anticipated having issues with the boat in our first year, as all cruisers do, and budgeted for that. But the issues and expenses we have had far exceeded our expectations. Getting the boat hauled out twice in the first year – once in the Abacos and once in Turks – no bueno.
  5. One positive moneywise that I will say is that, while a lot of people recommended budgeting more in the first year for staying at docks, to get more used to living aboard and giving yourselves some breaks, we really didn’t find the need to do this. We loved staying at anchor, and save a couple of short stops where air-conditioning and cable seemed like Christmas morning, we were completely happy living off the grid. The boat had a lot of problems, but it also rocked it in a lot of ways that allowed us to live comfortably without needing to “plug in.”

 

First-Year Projection: Life on the boat will be so much simpler!

Reality: Life is different, not simpler.

One of the reasons we pursued this lifestyle was to spend more time together as a family. In that respect, the biggest change would be that Aaron wouldn’t be going into the office. He would do work part-time from the boat, but would otherwise be able to participate more in daily “family life.” Certainly we’ve had more time together – how could we not – but for him, office time just turned into boat project time. There were always unsolved problems, systems that weren’t working properly, parts that needed to be replaced, and on, and on, and on. And boat problems have one deadline: as soon as possible. Aaron was often working on them at daybreak, well into the evenings, and through the weekends.

Claire’s 5th birthday celebration on the beach in Georgetown, Exumas, with her bestie, Henry.

Daily life also just takes longer. A decent portion of my day is spent just in meals – making them, serving them, doing all of the dishes from them, making sure we have enough groceries for wherever we’re going next. Then there’s the laundry that needs doing, cleaning, schooling for Claire, etc. None of this is bad – I just didn’t realize before we moved aboard how much daily time would be spent “living.”

Living and traveling on the water also requires an ongoing dedication to forecasting. We live and breathe the weather. Any sail requires planning – routes, wind predictions, wave expectations, tide schedule, and potential anchorages. And once we’re there, a constant monitoring of conditions is always in the background of what we’re doing.

 

First-Year Projection: These close quarters will drive us crazy!

Reality: This really wasn’t a problem for us.

We were fortunate in that, when we decided to do this, we already had an idea of what living together on a boat would be like, thanks to the month-long summer trips we took on the Pearson for three years. But, with those, there was always a definitive end-point, which changes your thinking. On Clarity, once we got past the initial unpacking and storing of everything we had brought from Chicago, we settled in comfortably. The only times I’ve felt confined on the boat were when we were stuck on board for days due to bad weather, unable to even go topsides, and when the boat was completely torn apart down below to troubleshoot a problem or work on a system.

Don’t get me wrong – life on board hasn’t been perfect. We get short with Claire, we get short with each other. But the further into the year we got, the better we were able to recognize when Claire just needed to run off some steam on the beach. Or when Aaron and I were arguing and all that was really needed was some time away from each other and the issue would disappear or work itself out.

Aaron and I are also both aware of making sure we each have the space to pursue our own things, especially when we’re in a place that affords us the opportunity to do so. Here in the DR, it’s been yoga mornings for me and evenings at the pool hall for him.  Have I mentioned yet that we love it here?

 

First-Year Projection: Having no break from Claire will be hard.

Reality: Yep.

This was one of the hardest adjustments, at least for me. I was anxious about transitioning from Claire being in preschool three to four days a week and having ample babysitting options to basically a childcare desert. Sometimes, I don’t even notice it – we just go on about our daily life and I forget. But other times, we would do anything for a break, for her to go somewhere, even if just for an afternoon. I think it’s healthy to check out of being parents every once in awhile.

Schooling has been another part of the challenge. Claire is a bright kiddo and it amazes us every day, how quickly she learns and how much she picks up from the world around us. Hopefully our lifestyle is helping out in that regard. But we are also gaining even more respect for teachers. It’s hard to play that role for Claire one minute, and then be mom or dad the next. As I’m sure is the case for a lot of 5-year-olds, some days, she’s great about it. Other days, it’s a fight – and Claire knows how to push all of our buttons, hard.

Aaron threading the reefs (the dark patches in the background are a few of countless) in the Turks and Caicos

One thing we should have done more this year is arrange some kid swaps with other cruising families. We were extremely fortunate to meet other kid boats almost everywhere we went, and it would have made so much sense to offer to take their kiddo for awhile so they could have some time to themselves, and then in return been able to drop Claire off for an afternoon and get some time ourselves also. Why didn’t we do this more?! I have no idea. We did make getting together with other cruising families a priority, though, and that alone was helpful – the kids with other kiddos to play with, the adults able to do some adulting.

Claire has also been witness to some tough times for Aaron and me this past year, when we were really struggling with boat problems or rough passages or things just not falling into place. That is another challenge – always having a little person around to hear every single word or experience every single mood. (We can’t even fight by ourselves! Ha!)

Here in the DR, we have Claire signed up for kindergarten at a local Montessori school in Cabarete from Aug. 21 through Nov. 1, possibly later. Monday through Friday, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. It’s not cheap (although it’s a lot cheaper here than it would be in the States), but we thought she would really benefit from experiencing the culture here with other kiddos, from learning for a few months from other authority figures, and from the schedule that a school day affords. We have secured a short-term lease on a nearby condo on the beach and will briefly be landlubbers in an area we’ve already come to love.

Claire’s school time will also allow Aaron and me to work more hours, to get some time to ourselves, and for all of us to recharge a bit before we’re back on the boat full time after hurricane season.  Aaron plans to take up surfing and get back to scuba diving, and I plan to crash the yoga retreat that neighbors our condo building as much as possible and also become a ukulele master.

 

First-Year Projection: Being away from our friends and family will be extremely hard.

Reality: Yes – BUT – we were able to stay more connected than I thought.

This was another one of my biggest fears as we moved aboard. My family and my friends are the most important things in my life (aside from our little immediate family, of course), and I had come to rely heavily on my support network.

I also realized that my relationships were primarily based on one-on-one interactions. Think about it – when was the last time, aside from family, that you carved out time for a long, catch-up phone call with a friend? Or took the time to send them a long email?

Connectivity in foreign countries was also embarrassingly a bit of an unknown for me. I was pretty sure it would work itself out, but I didn’t know how.

Our cell plans with T-Mobile have been a lifesaver, at least for me. Though phone calls are an upcharge with price dependent on where we are, we have unlimited texting and unlimited (3G-speed) data. We’ve been able to text regularly with friends, set up free Skype and Facebook Messenger calls when schedules allow, and yes, as you know, check Facebook/Instagram/etc regularly. It helps me feel less isolated from the goings on of everyone back in the States.

Another misconception of the cruising life by those who are less familiar is this idea that we are out on our own, in the middle of nowhere, all alone. Sometimes we are in the middle of nowhere, but we are hardly ever alone. There are a lot of people, including families, who are living this lifestyle and we are a tight-knit group. We become fast friends and if anyone needs anything, we are there to help – sometimes almost too eagerly. The cruising community is nothing short of amazing.

 

First-Year Projection: This life is going to change us.

Reality: Tenfold.

This past year has been the hardest of my life. It’s also been the most rewarding, the most life-altering, the most transformative. I’m pretty sure those things go hand in hand.

Conch shells on the first beach we set foot on in the Abacos, Bahamas, after our Gulf Stream crossing from Florida.

I have more faith in our marriage than ever, and it’s not because life has been perfect. We’ve had our fair share of ugly fights and ugly crying, but one thing we’ve never given up on is each other. I already thought Aaron was a pretty rad dude, but being a witness to the dedication he puts into this boat and this family has been awesome, in the pure sense of the word.

I also sometimes need to remind myself of how far I’ve come. Before we started this chapter, I had never spent a night at anchor (can you believe that?!). I’d never sailed in a squall. I’d never done an overnighter. I’d never driven a dinghy. So, so many firsts that now barely even register, we’ve experienced so much.

I’ve learned that schedules are for the birds, that things don’t go to plan, that you will continue to be tested – especially if you think you can’t handle anything else – and that the rewards are immeasurable, both big and small.

On the bad days, I want to throw in the towel and give up. But I never do. And experience has taught me now to wait until we’re out of the immediate problem to make any lasting decisions about the future. Sleep-deprived and seasick, I may lament to Aaron, “I’m done! I’m shot.” But I’m not! How can I be? This life, this crazy life, has pushed me so far out of my comfort zone, it’s exhilarating, and addictive. I want to keep pushing to become the best version of myself.

My priorities have shifted and my needs have changed. God, do I miss Starbucks coffee and long, hot baths – conveniences not only in the availability of goods, but the dependability of services. But they’re not really needs, right? We can make do – happily – without them.

To me, the time we spend together as a family, the travel, the new cultures, far supersedes the balance in our checking account.

I used to be so concerned with how I defined myself. By my profession? By being married, having a child? By being an adventurer?

The truth is, who cares?! At least right now, I really don’t. While we were back in the States, a good friend said something to me in passing – something that surprised me and also resonated so deeply. She said, “You seem much more self-assured, more confident.” And I am! – that this is the life I should be living. That this is where I belong.

 

I have no idea where my mind will be at a year from now. I have no idea where our boat will be a year from now.  But I know that I’m here right now, in Luperon in the Dominican Republic, writing this blog post with the breeze from the trade winds breaking the midday heat, with Aaron and Claire back on the boat a short dinghy ride away, doing school, playing legos, preparing dinner, or maybe doing nothing at all.

The Beautiful Exumas

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We’ve been in the Exumas now for about two months and in Georgetown for almost a month – such a long stint that, quite frankly, we’re starting to worry that our anchor is growing roots.

This island chain has brought us both extremes. When we first crossed over from Eleuthera, we entered the Exuma Land and Sea Park, which was the most remote location we’ve experienced to date. No settlements, no stores, no restaurants, no connection, for miles. In a few of the anchorages, we were the only boat in site. But there was unparalleled beauty in untouched beaches, ragged cliffs, vibrant reefs and waters in varying shades of blues that pictures just don’t completely capture. It was the most beautiful place we’ve ever been.

As we made our way south out of the park, we came to settled islands, like Staniel Cay and Little Farmer’s Cay, and the reintroduction to civilization was a bit strange. (Where did all of these people come from?!) But the warm embrace of conversation with others and a meal I didn’t have to prepare myself was magic.

Eventually, we made our way to Georgetown, the capital of the Exumas, and a cruising mecca. Some boats cruising the Bahamas make Georgetown their southernmost stop before heading north back to the States and to Canada. Others stop in for a month or two before venturing further south to the Turks and Caicos and the Dominican Republic. And still others drop anchor here and don’t leave. Never before have we seen so many cruisers in one place, with bays off of Stocking Island lit up like Christmas trees every evening from the bevy of swaying anchor lights. Hamburger beach, honeymoon beach, sand dollar beach, volleyball beach – each anchorage its own little community.

Every morning at 8 a.m. on VHF channel 72, the cruisers’ net is broadcasted. It includes the forecast, the events for the day (morning water aerobics, afternoon coconut painting, volleyball games, trivia and poker nights, etc.), general boating inquiries, and arrivals and departures. Even without organized events, the beauty of this area lends itself to countless activities.

Town is a dinghy ride from our anchorage across Elizabeth Harbor, and you can find most things that you need, provided your expectations aren’t too high and your wallet is fairly padded. The grocery store is decently stocked, especially if you go right after the mail boat has docked, and there’s a cute little library that’s open sporadically. Imagine – the full complement of The Magic Treehouse books, here in the middle of nowhere!

One of our favorite spots is Driftwood Café, with tasty food, excellent coffee and sassy staff. They know me and Claire by name, of course. And I buy fresh organic eggs from one of the women who works there. She brings them from her home, where she and her husband tend to more than 100 chickens. Because that’s how we roll in the Bahamas.

Most of Claire’s birthday presents were purchased from the Straw Market, a tent of fold-up tables were local artisans sell their wares. Some items are sourced from Nassau, but Claire picked out a reversible doll from one of the stalls that the woman sewed herself, and I watched another woman make a larger version of the colorful straw basket I bought for Claire.

Between adventures with other cruisers, outings to town, boat projects, work deadlines, beach bonfires, lovely visits from friends and family, and countless other things that unfold each morning, we’ve settled into quite a comfortable groove here.

Still, that wanderlust is starting to creep in, wondering what’s around the next corner…

Claire and her friend Ethan on S/V Mahi, running on a low-tide crescent-shaped beach off of Shroud Cay in the Exuma Land and Sea Park. We cruised with their lovely family for most of our time in the park before we continued south and they headed north to the Berry Islands.
Turquoise dinghy ride through the mangroves to the Atlantic.
Parked to take a ride on the natural water shoot, where the current pushing through the small river in the mangroves empties out to the open seas.
Hike up Shroud Cay
Untouched beauty
Coconut parked at Warderick Wells, the headquarters of the Land and Sea Park. The water here is gin clear – just incredible.
Clarity on a mooring ball in Warderick Wells
Cruisers leave their mark on Boo Boo Hill in the Land and Sea Park
Catching some air off of the abandoned dock and launch off of an old Decca Station on Pipe Cay, now defunct. We also toured the ruins.
At low tide, sandy islands appear
Rachel’s Bath on Compass Cay, where when the seas are kicked up, waves break from the ocean through a small opening in the cliffs, creating a bubbly bath.
Rachel’s Bath
At Staniel Cay, the population of nurse sharks off of the fish cleaning stations likely exceeds that of the humans. They were fascinating to watch.
At Little Farmer’s Cay, the scraps from the fresh conch salad stand bring smaller, less intimidating visitors – turtles!
A little shop in the quaint Farmer’s Cay settlement. Claire immediately fell in love with the shop owner, who was sweet as pie, let Claire play with anything in the store she wanted, and gave her cookies.
Claire traced her hand and wrote her name on the shop wall, forever marking our visit there.
Of course we had to get one of the shop owner’s straw dolls!
The day we arrived in Georgetown, we dropped anchor and took Coconut to volleyball beach for the weekly Sunday pig roast.
Beautiful Georgetown colors
Birthday cake time with Henry, Claire’s Georgetown bestie! We met his family on s/v Upside Up the day we arrived and became fast friends. Such a great family.
The Flip-Flop Shop, an awesome beach hut created by cruisers years ago. It’s the perfect place for a beachside picnic and campfire.
Hiking on Stocking Island
Beach buds

Green Turtle to Great Guana

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The most beautiful princess and her Great Guana sunset

The most beautiful princess and her Great Guana sunset

Finally, we are getting on island time – taking a deep breath and allowing ourselves the opportunity to enjoy where we are, even if it means putting a few non-essential projects on hold.

Due to a cold front that made traveling further south with Clarity impossible, we spent two weeks in Green Turtle Cay, but it turned out to be such a blessing. We tucked into a cozy little anchorage in White Sound that was surrounded by gorgeous resorts and was a short dinghy ride to town. Just a few days in, we met another cruising family that’s spending the better part of the winter in the Abacos on Wild Child, their Beneteau. Their daughter, Marleigh, is Claire’s age, and the two became fast friends, running like kitties along the beaches and setting up coconut stands.

Amazingly, a few days after that, we spotted Dark Horse anchored just off the island. Just a month ago, we celebrated Christmas in Florida with a couple of cruising families – one of them being Dark Horse, an incredible force of six (four kids aged 8 months, 2, 7 and 9) who have been living on their schooner for three years. We guided them into our anchorage in Green Turtle, and like that, our community grew again.

We explored the island together and the kids climbed trees and put on magic shows while the rest of us bathed in the warmth of adult conversation – heightened by healthy doses of wine, rum and moonshine. We took our dinghies over to No Name Cay to feed the wild pigs. The men convened to share charts and review forecasts.

And when the weather window did lift, we caravanned down to anchor off of Great Guana Cay together, spending the next three days doing school and work on our respective boats in the morning and meeting in the afternoons for snorkeling, diving, fishing and sandcastle-building.

Finding this, a “family,” friends for Claire and for us, was one of the things I was most worried about when we decided to leave all that was familiar in Chicago. To have found a taste of it this soon was an unbelievable gift.

As another cold front was bearing down, the three of us parted ways to find safe harbor – Dark Horse to Marsh Harbor, Wild Child to Hope Town, and us to Man-O-War Cay. We hope to meet again before our paths further divide. Dark Horse plans to leave the Abacos sooner than we will, as their draft prevents them from comfortably cruising the southern cays here, and this is the end of the road for Wild Child, heading back to the States in another month or two.

For now, we’ll enjoy the next week on our mooring in Man-O-War as our cozy little community of three.

The beach off of Pelican Cay, a short dinghy ride from Green Turtle. Amazing shelling and great snorkeling
Me and my girl after our family snorkel
I’m not sure what the actual name is for this beautiful specimen, but for us, this will always be the Q-Tip tree.
More beautiful local flora
Claire and her buddy Marleigh
Feeding the wild pigs on NoName Cay, a hop across from Pelican Cay
Smooch
Piglet snoozing in the sand!!
Jess and Rebecca, two lovely cruising ladies who became fast friends
The Green Turtle gang! (Thanks, Drew, for capturing this pic!)
Marleigh and Claire’s beachside coconut shop
A downtown Green Turtle eatery
Sunset in White Sound
Waves breaking on Gumelemni Cay, a tiny island just off of Great Guana Cay.
Driftwood hut on Spoil Bank Cay, created back in the 1980s when a deep channel was dredged for cruise ships to pass to and from Great Guana. The cruise ships stopped coming more than 10 years ago because the seas were too unpredictable, but this spoil island and the deep channel remain.
Great Guana Sunset
Your friendly neighborhood reef shark
Diving the reef just off of Great Guana
The ladies!
The adults share a toast from our grab bag of travel-size liqueurs
Mermaid Tails!

Changes in Latitudes…

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Our little fish, snorkeling in the lagoon off of Peanut Island

We’ve only been here two weeks, and it’s fascinating to me how much my attitude has changed on things that used to be so important to me.

I’m sure part of this was my own personal hang-ups, but back in Oak Park, I would never leave the house without my makeup on and my hair done. Here, with this heat and with our daily routine, I’ve taken to wearing no makeup the vast majority of the time. It’s so hot morning through night that it all sweats off anyway, for one. For two, I’m wearing sunscreen all day, which doesn’t mix well with makeup. For three, we’re swimming all the time, so mascara is pointless. And four, I’ve just come to a point where I don’t care. And you know what? I’m pretty happy about that.

Another thing that was important to me back at home was my clothing – cute dresses, skirts paired with trendy shirts, anything from Anthropologie. Here, what’s comfortable and airy takes the cake. Yesterday, I returned our rental car in shorts and a tank top that prior to moving aboard, I never wore out of our bedroom. And skirts and dresses while constantly climbing on and off and up and down the boat, or on and off the dinghy? Not practical.

Aaron’s also never worn so little clothes in his life – shirtless for the vast majority of the day. And he hasn’t worn socks in 30 days – he actually marked the calendar June 30 – and he hasn’t done his hair in weeks. “What comes out is what it is,” he says. I think that’s an excellent approach to life in general.

Our expectation of a “comfortable temperature” has also changed. Yes, we have air-conditioning on the boat and it has been working well (knock on wood), but we keep it at around 82 or 83 down below (yes, that is dramatically cooler than outside). And of course, we want to get outside, too. So, basically, we avoid the sun midday, but otherwise just put up with the heat – all three of us. A constant state of stickiness has become the norm, and we cool down not with air-conditioning a lot of the time, but with a rinse-down. The first few days, Claire understandably complained about the heat even just from the walk from the parking lot to the boat. Now, she rarely mentions it. Such a trooper, that kiddo.

The “schedule” of a day, for the most part, has also fallen by the wayside. Already, we have to remind ourselves what day of the week it is, and we usually don’t know what time it is. Eating has taken an interesting turn, in that we just don’t do a whole lot of it (save for Claire, for whom eating is an ongoing highlight of her day 🙂 ). Aaron and I either get wrapped up in what we’re doing, or it’s just plain too hot and we don’t feel like eating much more than something light. Aaron also doesn’t have a set time for lunch, like he did when his days at the office included his lunch hour. We’re drinking a whole lot more water, though. Probably the amount we should have been drinking all along.

Oh, and Netflix and Amazon Prime? Cable? What are those again? A staple of my day back in Oak Park (I’ll admit it) has become not even a factor of life here. The marina’s Wi-Fi doesn’t extend to our dock, and though we could connect with Aaron’s cell hotspot to stream, we just, haven’t.

Daily life has become a mixture of projects to tackle, deadlines to meet, and exciting adventures. Since my last post, we’ve found quite a few more issues with the boat, and some that we knew about already have become much bigger in scope. But we’re trying to take it all in stride and pace ourselves as best we can, with the goal of getting this boat off the dock sooner than later.

And we made one very, very important purchase – our brand new RIB (rigid-inflatable boat), which will serve as our family car! More on that in the next post. We want to give Claire as much ownership in our new lifestyle as possible, so we decided to let her name the dinghy. It’s been pretty hilarious hearing her additions to the shortlist. I’m planning a little boat-christening party and name unveiling. You can probably imagine some of the contenders :).

Life is changing quickly for us here! Can’t wait to see what a few more weeks bring.

Claire’s first dinghy ride
Aaron at the helm of our new, new boat 🙂
Bath time
Hard-earned sunset cocktails
Claire and Dad, checking out the marine life in the snorkeling lagoon at Peanut Island
Fish? Right next to me? Mind. Blown.
Driftwood
The boardwalk to John D. MacArthur State Park, a gorgeous 438-acre sanctuary just an eight-minute drive from our slip. Mangroves, estuaries, nature centers, beaches and more
Hurry up, mom! The beach is here!
I do worry about Claire making friends and finding other kiddos her age to play with, but then I am reminded, friends are everywhere and they come so easily at her age. Here, her best friend Eli, at least for the afternoon.
We are on a floating dock, so when the tide goes out, it’s always interesting to see what new creatures have attached themselves to the pylons.
Unending fun in tub of water
Aaron hard at work
Hide and seek – can you find her? This kid is getting creative 🙂
A fun weekday morning craft before it got too hot out
My zen activity in the late evenings or early mornings these days
On a quick paddle over to Peanut Island at dusk one day, I spotted tons of coral crab on these rocks, hunting for their dinner
The sweet life

Getting Settled

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Claire swam for the first time without a floatie on Monday. On Wednesday, we were back at the pool with full snorkel gear for the whole family to practice for an outing this weekend to a nearby hotspot. She never wanted to come up to the surface!

My two favorite fish!

Claire swam on her own for the first time a few days ago. Something clicked at just the right time, she remembered what she’s learned from classes and practice, and was brave enough to get over her fear. And once she started, she never went back.

It happened in the middle of the day on Monday at a nearby pool, when Aaron normally would have been at the office all day. Except that he was there, encouraging her to keep swimming to him a little bit further, a little bit further each time. We were both there to see it.

That’s one of the many reasons why we’re doing this – to experience these amazing life moments together.

We’ve been here five days now (has it only been five days?!), and we’ve already had some amazing highs. The lows have been there, too. When we arrived at the boat, I was overjoyed and felt the same immediate sense of “this is home” that I experienced when we flew out to see her for the first time. But truthfully, those first three or four days, I was not at my finest.

After the long road trip from Oak Park, we got here and immediately dove into unloading all of our life possessions from the rental van. In the grand scheme of things, we didn’t bring much, but in cruising terms, we had triple what we should have. We were again buried in boxes, and you all know by now how well I do with that.

It also doesn’t help that our boat is in a slip that is about as far from the parking lot as you can possibly get, so Aaron and I had to haul countless loads of boxes in small dock carts in heat so oppressive you’re almost immediately drenched. We still aren’t done unpacking, but finally, in the last day or two, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of “stuff.”

We’ve also shifted course a bit from our original plan to maintain our sanity (or find mine) and to not dive head first into absolutely everything at once (after all, isn’t moving across the country onto a boat enough for one month? 🙂 ). Originally, after getting here Saturday afternoon, we were planning to return the rental car on Wednesday and leave Riviera Beach City Marina, on the Intracoastal Waterway where our boat is docked, within a few days. We had our reasons and they were good ones – this marina is extremely expensive and with hardly any amenities, and we are still planning to head north to Georgia or South Carolina to wait out hurricane season.

But the next logical port is about an eight-hour run away. We managed to get all of our boxes out of the van, but our things were by no means put away yet. Aaron and I both had work deadlines. Boat issues had to be fixed (the air conditioner needed attention, there was a fuel leak with the generator, etc.) Not to mention the fact that we have had no time to get the boat off the dock, even for a short run to hoist the sails and check the engine.

Oh, and we have a 4-year-old 24-7 now who needs our attention, too.

It was all just too much pressure, and we thought, at least for this first month, let’s just give ourselves a break. We signed a lease for another month here (though we will likely leave sooner than that), and since there’s not really anything in walking distance here, we thought, what the heck, let’s just rent a car for another week. Sure, all of these decisions amount to more money than we were planning to spend this month. But sometimes, you have to make a decision based on what’s best for the family. There’s plenty of time for us to settle into this lifestyle a bit more gradually.

It’s been a trip, to be sure, but as I mentioned, there have also been unbelievable moments of joy. Like when Claire lit up in a monster-sized grin when she saw her room for the first time, or when she felt the ocean on her feet for the first time. Like when she swam on her own, or when we drove to the local snorkel/scuba outfitters and got gear for the whole family. We immediately went to the pool to have her try out her mask and tube, and right away, swimming underwater opened up a whole new world for her that she refused to leave all afternoon. There’s a highly rated snorkeling spot called Peanut Island almost spitting distance from our boat, and we’re planning to head there in the next few days.

Tomorrow morning, I will wake up with the sunrise, brew some coffee, sneak out while Claire and Aaron are still sleeping, and drive to the beach to start my day with the rhythm of the waves . I think it will be another one of the highs for this first week. And also, something that becomes part of my daily routine. What an amazing thought…

Claire checking out her room for the first time.
Within 15 minutes on board, Claire said, “Daddy, show me the engine!”
We drove to a nearby pool for a little break from unpacking.
A celebratory shake for our new little swimmer!
“Why did you knit me with wool? I’m so hot here! I need a beer.”
Claire’s first visit to the ocean
Chasing and running from the waves – endless fun!
Our first craft on board – soft play-doh made from corn starch and conditioner. It kept Claire happy and entertained while I set up the galley!
We just found this splash pad a short walk from our slip. Pretty sure it will be a daily destination.
With more of the unpacking done, Aaron was able to set up the amazing shade canopies that came with the boat. He also mounted the hose so Claire had her very own sprinkler on deck.