“Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can.” – Arthur Ashe

A sailboat is not the most comfortable of abodes, but the size constraints and comforts we forego compared to living in a house are a small price to pay for the adventure and freedom of the cruising lifestyle. Life is all about balance.

In less than a month our family will be going out the San Francisco Gate on our catamaran Erin Skye, to start our cruising adventure down the California coast, then into Mexico. From there we aren’t sure where we’ll go, but we know that we will explore parts of the world we’ve never seen before. As we prepare to depart from our land home base and reflect on the past few months of preparation leading to this point, I’m most grateful for the fact that we started the journey at all and accepted it as a goal versus an unattainable dream.

Living at the Dock of the Bay

Erin Skye at the dock

We chose to move onto our boat about two years before starting to cruise full-time, in order to learn about the boat’s systems, practice sailing, and reduce our cost of living before leaving our income behind. For the most part that was what we accomplished, but in retrospect we allocated too much time to this phase of the journey. After 6 months we ended up looking for a way to change our departure date to a year earlier.

With all that time, it was too easy to take my eyes off the goal of preparing, and sink into the routine of living at a marina. I volunteered to be room parent for Ethan’s school, Vice-Commodore for the yacht club, and Boy Scout troop reservation lead.

We also fell down the rabbit hole of projects, leading to a dearth of free time for James (aka MacGyver) and stress on my part due to living in a construction zone along with a compulsive need for everything to be in its place.

Cockpit table mid-project

What we didn’t think of was how the lack of usable space (though temporary) would impact the quality of life of the crew. Six months of living this way led me to decide that we needed to get to the more rewarding part of the adventure quicker, minimize the project work, and move off the boat when we undertake large projects in the future.

Trial Run

The decision to move aboard and live in a marina before jumping into the cruising lifestyle allowed us to make mistakes in a setting that was less risky, from a safety and financial perspective. With many projects going at once we found ourselves needing to visit our local marine supply store several times per week, and having multiple shipments on their way to us at all times. The luxury of our home base allowed this convenience which our new lifestyle will not afford us again.

Priorities

Exploring in San Francisco

After we decided that we would leave earlier than previously planned, we had less than 6 months to complete the projects that were necessary to do coastal cruising, so we needed to prioritize our remaining work.

A trick we use in the project management profession when the circumstances allow is to reduce the scope of what is needed in order to be able to succeed at an on-time delivery. This approach has worked perfectly in our case. We identified which of the remaining projects were actually essential right away, and which could wait for a later time after our planned departure date of late June. Then, we simply focused our limited time on the highest priority tasks and projects, and put the others on the calendar for a later time.

Balance

I realize now that we didn’t spend enough time with our family and friends, just having fun. This is what we expect our lives to be about as soon as we leave, visiting new places, making new friends and connecting with old ones. We didn’t take a dip into that part of the cruising lifestyle as much as I now feel we should have.

Perspective

I knew it would take work and some discomfort to prepare for and take on this lifestyle but occasionally I found myself thinking something like, “I just need to wait until this part is over, then I can experience the good stuff.” Sometimes it took a while, but I always would come around to realizing that it’s all good stuff or that I could make it good, through action or reframing.

Looking at the fish finder

This would happen when I donned my teal-colored glasses, those that I acquired when we decided that we’d make this dream a reality and could picture ourselves in the warm blue-green sea. They let me see how fortunate we are to have the opportunity to choose this lifestyle and feel gratitude for each other and everyone else who has supported us along this journey. They help me recognize that the present is fleeting and that allows me to put any woes into the broader perspective. Then I recognize that life is good. Always.

The Final Stretch

Getting comfortable

At this point, mere days before we embrace the cruising lifestyle in earnest, I feel at ease. I realize that I’m feeling calm because we’re ready – not perfect, but ready to take on this next challenge of becoming cruisers.

We’ve worked hard to get to where we are now. We still have outstanding projects, but this will always be the case, and they will be pursued over time and as needed.

As Erin Skye’s deck slowly sways along with the movement of the sea, so now do our expectations. The transition from land lubber to cruiser is not yet complete, but we are well on our way. We can take pride in the fact that we have a clear view of the ocean’s promise, and have pursued our dreams.

We yearn for a more simple life. The idea is that we spend time in a coastal area and leave when we decide we’ve spent enough time, or when the weather dictates it. We explore the lands, meet the people, taste the food, and play in the water, taking photos and videos, and writing about it along the way. Simple. But in order to get to that point, we have to jump through many complicated hoops.

I can categorize each hoop as fitting within one of 5 phases to our cruising adventure. At a high level they are defined as 1) before we owned the boat (done), 2) before we lived aboard (done), 3) before we cut our ties to land (working on it), 4) before James retires (while cruising part-time), and 5) after we are both retired and cruising full-time. The end goal is not a destination but a lifestyle, during which we are not connected to any one location for too long. Cruising on a sailboat is a nomadic approach to living with learning, connection, and adventure at its core.

Each of the journey’s phases involves preparation to get to the next phase, and this preparation has proven to be quite complicated at times. We are currently cutting ties to land life and some of what we are going through and planning has exhibited such complication that we’ve had to enlist the help of legal and cruising professionals, as well as the help of friends.

Before We Owned the Boat

Deanna at the helm docking in Long Beach

James helping with the foresail on Britican, in Grenada

We put a huge amount of effort into determining what type and size of boat we wanted to cruise and live in. James’ first investigation into this resulted in a conclusion that we could purchase an appropriate boat for $30k. It would be fair to conclude now that he wouldn’t be happy with anything less than a boat worth an order of magnitude above that! We needed to engage a broker and a marine lawyer to support our questions and legal arrangements for 3 offers, and we ended up creating a company (LLC) that complicates all marina checkins since the boat isn’t owned by us as individuals but as managers of the LLC. We engaged a surveyor, another set of eyes since we couldn’t travel during the pandemic, and an amazingly knowledgeable and friendly pair of highly experienced cruisers at Sailing Totem to provide answers for all the questions that we had, and those we didn’t even know we had.

More details on the specifics of the boat purchase can be found at our posting We Bought a Sailboat!

We also took sailing classes and got our certifications, attended Cruiser’s University at the US Sailboat Show, named and renamed the boat and dinghy, designed the logo, and spent a week with a cruising family aboard Britican to verify that the cruising life was for us. On the logistical side of things, we talked (and talked and eventually ended up parting) with an accountant about the concept of making a business out of the boat to earn a small amount of income during our travels and potentially write off the boat (conclusion: nope), and secured insurance that would cover us in the areas where we are cruising. It’s not such a common lifestyle that every service provider has a good understanding of it, and we find ourselves explaining and teaching them almost as much as they inform us.

Before We Lived Aboard

Erin Skye on the hard in La Paz

Once we’d purchased the boat, we had to get her transported from Florida to Mexico, deciding between various permutations of our personal involvement, the involvement of a professional captain, and using a cargo ship for carriage. After careful consideration between the options, we chose to have a captain move her to the harbor where she could meet up with the cargo carrier Pietersgracht that would take her through the Panama Canal to La Paz. We would have loved being on that transit, but COVID prevented us from partaking in the adventure beyond taking screen captures of the canal web cams.

In La Paz we had a project manager representing us to the Mexican customs officers with US Coast Guard registration documentation, engine serial numbers, and various other information, some that we had to get notarized while the officials waited.

We took advantage of the skilled labor there and addressed various maintenance items required by the insurance company and for safety and comfort. Erin Skye was taken out of the water (put on the hard) when hurricane Genevieve threatened the southern tip of Baja California, which actually resulted in only a few stronger winds. Finally when we were more comfortable with the COVID situation, James flew to La Paz to bring Erin Skye up to Ensenada with a captain who could sign him off to be the skipper for insurance purposes going forward.

While Erin Skye was getting all that attention, we were moving from our house to an apartment, and shedding most of our material possessions.

Before We Cut Ties to Land

This is the phase we are in now, after we moved aboard and as we prepare to leave Emeryville Marina where we’ve lived for 9 months. We expect to start our next phase within a couple of months and there are so many balls that we are juggling. The most slippery are the boat projects, setting up domicile, arranging for schooling and Boy Scouts, and sailing and travel preparation.

Admiring the new cabinetry

Boat Projects

As I write, James is creating a template for new holes in the helm fiberglass to accommodate the electric winch that allows us to reef (reduce the amount of sail that is out) without leaving the helm, and therefore reducing weather-related risks. We are currently in the middle of 9 other projects: hatch replacement, solar arch installation, solar panel installation, battery replacement, electrical upgrade and outlet installation, galley cabinet replacement, galley oven & stovetop replacement, cabin cabinet building and installation, and mainsail reefing repair. We don’t need to complete them all before we set sail down the California coast, but we’d really like them done soon.

Recently we returned from putting Erin Skye on the hard again (this time in Napa Valley) to address some maintenance issues like repainting the bottom and replacing through-hull seals, as well as an upgrade or two like installing our transducer to capture sonar reflections below the boat.

Domicile

Researching options and specifics about how to change our official “domicile”, which represents our permanent home base versus “residence” which is the temporary home where we are physically located, has proven to be the most difficult and frustrating of all our preparation. I’ve received conflicting information from various sources, including lawyers and mail services in 3 states, and current cruisers responding to my queries on social media.

The most important factor in creating domicile is the intent to return to our state of domicile when we are finished with our cruising. We’ve known for a long time that our target retirement state is Florida, but the various counties appear to handle the domicile question differently. We will be moving to the chosen county before the end of the year, where we will get our driver’s licenses, meet with lawyers, set up accounts, and become established in the community. Plus, Ethan will be able to get his driving learner’s permit while we are out there!

Schooling and Boy Scouts

Ethan enjoys being the dinghy skipper

The location where we domicile dictates the homeschooling laws and regulations we need to follow regarding Ethan’s education, at least for a while. We’ve investigated several options, learning about umbrella schools, reporting requirements, curriculum and graduation requirements, as well as the driver’s education process. Ethan notes that he doesn’t want to be a “Florida man”, but I helped him understand that behavior is what provides that notoriety versus simply where one’s domiciled.

We will need to convert from part of a Boy Scout troop to the Boy Scout Lone Scout program, since we won’t be located near any troop for very long. This requires us to stop using their online advancement system and report merit badge and other accomplishments to a remote council manually, through email. When I learned of this, I couldn’t help but mention to the Boy Scouts administrator that the remote online system should align well with the remote class of boy scout. Patience is something I’ll need to embrace more with the new lifestyle, I’m thinking.

Sailing and Travel Prep

Even now I’m making plans for the next phase, between June and December of this year. I’ve been researching the ports along the way down the California coast, and looking into how and where to visit the Channel Islands. I’ve identified many ports to check out if the timing and weather are right, and we’ll be making decisions along the way regarding which to skip, if any. Plus, we have family and friends to visit along the coastlines if the timing can work out.

One might think that with a career in project management, I’d be whipping out some scheduling tools to apply to all these tasks and projects, and one wouldn’t be wrong in that thinking – it’s in my blood. I recognize that it’s essential to balance the rigor and ceremony of project management so that tentative plans can be made, with the required flexibility and fluid lifestyle of cruising on a sailboat. So, in my planning documents I have included data with titles like “tentative departure date” and “approximate cruising time.” Perfectly nimble.

Walking along our home dock

We have a risk log with over 100 entries, one or two of which we select to review daily to identify how to prepare for and mitigate risk to an acceptable level. For instance, we recently reviewed the risk of getting a fishhook in the eye (a risk identified and kindly brought to our attention by the Emeryville Yacht Club Commodore, Britta), and though Ethan and I were cringing and begging James to stop sharing details of a similar account, we are now well-versed in how NOT to react and what to do if this risk is realized. More importantly, we have all agreed to wear glasses whenever there is fishing gear out!

As for our car, I’ve been working out the timing and coordination of when to buy it out of the lease, when to take it to San Diego, how to store it while we’re cruising down the coast before we end up in San Diego, and when and where to sell it. I’ve already looked into Mexican insurance so we can drive between Ensenada and San Diego if we decide to do that. Erin Skye is set with documentation from the US Coast Guard for the next 5 years and annually we’ll register our dinghy (dubbed “Sunset” by Ethan). Last month we all received our updated passports and soon we’ll apply for a Mexican temporary residency permit.

Before James Retires

For a few months we will be cruising while James is still employed full time, so Ethan and I will enjoy each port during the days and James will join us in the evenings and on weekends. We’ll only sail and move between anchorages and/or marinas during the weekends or when James takes a vacation day, but we have months to make it down the California coast so a slow pace sounds perfect. My focus will be threefold: 1) passage planning and weather routing, 2) boat-schooling, or preparing for boat-schooling, and 3) destination activity planning. This last one is what I’ve always loved about vacations, determining what we’d do after arriving and making sure that we are informed and prepared to make the most of those activities. Integrating schooling with our location will be so interesting and make it more engaging as well.

We will need to solve the medical care issue before losing our insurance, determine if anything besides catastrophic insurance is needed while we are out of the country, and if not, how to be covered when we travel back to visit in the US.

A view we hope to have from a Mexican beach, near the end of this year

After We Both Retire

Our preparation doesn’t extend this far, with the exception of knowing that we will cruise down to Ensenada, then down the Mexican coast to at least Puerto Vallarta and decide where to go from there. As James puts it, “we’ll decide whether to turn left or right.”

In our travels we may find a location that we deem perfect for retirement outside the US or we may just end up cruising back to the US, into the Gulf of Mexico and finding a nice simple place to reside, on land near the water. I expect we will be able to appreciate our cruising experience and use the flexibility and other skills we hone along the way to ease into a truly simplified land-based lifestyle when this adventure is over. And I expect that the transition will be much less complex than the one we’re going through now. It will take a while to determine if that’s the case, but I’ll let you know!

Acknowledgements:

Top/featured image is by Tyler Lastovich on Unsplash

Final image is by Arusfly 🌿 on Unsplash

Though our home base is in Emeryville, it only covers a little over one square mile of land, so we spend most of our time driving in Berkeley.  Driving in Berkeley is like a video game where your goal is to minimize the number of objects that you hit while getting from one point to another within the allotted time, while there are people and cars, strollers and scooters, bicycles and OneWheels, electric and regular skateboards, tandem bikes and elliptical bikes, shopping carts, joggers, and dog-walkers all intent upon making you fail.

The game throws in blindingly bright sunshine, rain, visual barriers like trash cans, cars parked very close together, Amazon trucks and other vehicles double parked, road crews, slow-moving and stopping recycling and trash trucks, and outdoor seating that has taken over part of the road. All the cars have dings but you get extra points if you avoid dings on your own vehicle.

Trash truck blocking right lane

The roads are not arranged in an organized grid because this game is not meant for beginners. A single road will reach a T, but then continue on, in name at least, 100 feet to the south. There are intersections of major streets that don’t meet perpendicularly, with another road thrown in for good measure and geometric interest.

Two lane roads require constant lane-shifting while the left lane is used for left turns at intersections, and the right lane is blocked by parked cars most of the rest of the time. Some of the cars parked haven’t moved in weeks or months, and are teeming with belongings that fall into the street.

The visual noise along the streets is so loud and distracting that it takes almost super-human focusing skill just to stay between the lines of the lane, then the lane will open up to a specially marked bicycle boulevard indicating that bicycles can use the lane in the same manner as cars, in the middle, but providing less visibility to the vehicular traffic since they are so small comparatively. There are farmer’s markets and tent cities spilling into the streets. Shops come in a large variety of colors with interesting wares for sale such as bright feather boas, multi-colored rugs, costumes, and unidentifiable knickknacks.

Lots to see in the storefronts

Rules

It’s clear that the obstacles you need to avoid aren’t following the same rules that you’re required to follow, however, the game’s narrative indicates that they will. Instead of waiting for the traffic to clear, cars on a side street trying to get onto the main road will creep into traffic to force the main road traffic to stop or go around if there is enough room. Pedestrians behave the same when in crosswalks or not, often just walking into traffic without looking, as if they have infinite lives. Red lights appear to be mere suggestions for some of the vehicles if there isn’t any cross traffic.

To make the game more interesting, the rules change as you go, with signs indicating what hours you are allowed to turn left or right, usually including two ranges per day. Some otherwise through roads have been blocked with concrete barrel-like planters to dissuade usage from a particular direction, while one-way signs are regularly seen on two-way roads.

Planters in addition to signs

When you arrive at your destination, there is usually no place to park, causing you to lose precious time searching for a spot, or parking lot, and walking back to the destination before you truly arrive.

Your phone and vehicle navigation aids always underestimate the time it will take to get there, and they don’t know about accidents or other slowdowns. In fact, they will regularly suggest a route that takes up to twice as long as the shortest route during rush hour.

Points

You lose points if you end up driving through a crosswalk that has a pedestrian in it, whether or not they were there when you started crossing, or you had visibility of their actions. The penalty is doubled if this happens as a result of you going around another vehicle stopped at the crosswalk. You lose points if anyone, sane or otherwise, swats your car or yells at you. You lose points if you are in the middle of the intersection when the light changes and you end up blocking traffic in the other direction. And you lose points if for any reason you are the target of anyone else’s horn.

Pedestrian making traffic stop mid-block

Winning

After a while you start catching on to how to take advantage of the chaotic system, if only a bit. You can use pedestrians to your advantage, as other vehicles are forced to stop when pedestrians are in front of them, which at times can create an opportunity for a turn that would otherwise be more difficult. You become aware of which pedestrian crossings have the most traffic and least engaged pedestrians so you can avoid them or just be extra aware there.

Identifying routes that maximize four-way stops versus crossing high volume roads without the protection of a sign provides a bonus level of security that is rare in the game. You get a power-up on trash days when cars don’t park in the right lane, for the most part.

After a while you become accustomed to the vibrant colors, so they are recognized as commonplace and less distracting. When a new unexpected color catches your attention, it’s probably something that you need to focus on versus part of the background.

In the end, if we choose to play the Berkeley Driving Game we are accepting that we are responsible to be alert, and can expect to be surprised, to laugh, to be dazzled by diversity and uniqueness, and to say, “Really?!” and “Did you see that?!” throughout the experience. A couple of the main goals of our change to a cruising lifestyle are to see different cultures and to appreciate the world the way it is where we are visiting, and this game helps to check both of those boxes. It also keeps us on our toes, pushing us toward discomfort. We’re not choosing the comfortable path, but the one more interesting.

We had some idea of what living onboard Erin Skye would be like before we jumped into it, because we’d spent a week or so aboard her several times already. Plus we’d spent time on other boats, have been perusing sailing and live-aboard forums for two years, and have read books and listened to podcasts on the topic. But since we moved aboard five weeks ago, we’ve learned so much more, and have run into a few surprises.

Cooking

Onboard, the more simple the food preparation the better, mainly because of working space limitations, but also because the cooking appliances, tools, and food are not all within reach, but are stored in a place determined by safety and logistics over convenience.

I enjoyed identifying where the food would go as we unpacked box after box, and for the most part the initial plan has held steady. Spices, a few sauces, coffee, and tea are the only food items that we keep in the cupboards of the galley (kitchen), while snacks, baking ingredients, and canned goods are housed close-by under the settee (couch). The challenge arose with those bulky food items that didn’t fit in the saloon (main living area), or are not used as frequently, such as rice, pasta, dried beans, and extras of anything, like peanut butter, homemade jam, soy sauce, and ramen. We now have food stored in 8 different places!

One of our pantries

The most significant restriction we have in the galley is the size of the refrigerator. Meal planning and rotation are so much more important when we have less space for fresh food, leftovers and condiments. We had to decide what will not have a dedicated refrigeration space anymore, like bottles of mustard. Mustard is needed on very few occasions, and we can de-prioritize those meals, or make mustard from what we have onboard if needed. We also don’t refrigerate the fresh veggies and fruit that lasts longer anymore, like carrots, potatoes, and apples.

I suspect that we’ll reduce the variety of meals we rotate through to maintain a smaller number of condiments and ingredients needed on hand. I’ll experiment more and determine whether that is a concept that really needs to be pursued or whether that level of meal variety really falls into the spice of life category.

Cleaning

It’s amazing how quickly any spot on the boat can get dirty. More accurately put, it’s amazing how quickly ALL the spots on the boat get dirty.

Daily we are wiping down floors, the deck, tables, counters, bathrooms, and often walls! Part of the reason is that we are tracking dirt into the boat with every trip from the parking lot, when we pick up groceries, mail and packages, laundry, or when we go on any errands. And it appears that another reason is that I’m shedding hair. Was I dropping the same amount of hair onto the carpet and other flooring when we lived on land, but the space was greater so we didn’t notice it collected together? Or did the environment (or my age progression!?) trigger a change?  

Shiny clean table with Ethan hiding behind his phone and snacks

We’ve also needed to clean solvent off the cupboards, replace the caulking in the heads (bathrooms), wash all the windows, and remove dust from the many infrequently accessed compartments we’ve opened. Soon we will have a cleaning regimen and document the cleaning rotation schedule, first draft, so we can get an accurate view of the extent of the recurring cleaning needs.

Unpacking

We planned to move aboard 20 boxes then pare it down afterward figuring out what was truly needed, but we ended up with about 42 instead. Our marina staff and neighbors certainly appreciate that we ended up moving way too much stuff, as they have been the recipients of several boxes of unneeded items each week. So have the local charities, but apparently the need is lesser in the East Bay than in Denver, evidenced by the donation hour reductions and accepted item restrictions. I’ve had a great opportunity to tour the local neighborhoods following the advice of donation center efforts to help me find a new home for my things.

As we go through all this, it’s becoming more clear what works well in this new environment and what we just don’t need to keep aboard. I’ve not once thought we brought too many cleaning or hand towels, but we do keep giving away pens, tools, fluffy bath towels, clothing, and books. It hasn’t taken long for us to break the habit of collecting mementos, as we can feel the expected pain of having to part with something else if we bring it aboard.

Exercise

I expected to have to identify a way to include exercise in our routine, thinking we’d be active with yoga at first, and to figure out where to do this so we could exercise together, or at least so the exerciser wouldn’t block the way of other family members. What I didn’t realize is that there is absolutely no reason to consider extra exercise at this point since the unpacking, cleaning, and boat maintenance/projects have us going to bed sore each night.

Even walking from the car to the boat adds to our just-living exercise as our slip is at the end of the dock. If we bought groceries or boat parts, or if we had a package arrive at the office, we can add carrying that weight to our exercise total.

Ethan appreciates high tide when he can reach the top of the pylons. We appreciate the seagull artwork too, as long as it’s dry.

One last thought on exercise I’d like to share is that I’ll need to work on my balance and muscle-confidence to make disembarking more seamless. I don’t feel comfortable just stepping off the deck and onto the wooden rail of the dock from so far away or so far up. For James and Ethan, disembarking is simply a long step out. Who would have thought that it’d be so difficult to disembark?! I find it easy to get onboard, but somehow I’m a bit intimidated by the movement in the other direction.

Smells

Until Eileen the purse seiner (fishing boat) moved upwind of us, we didn’t have any of the fishy, or even salty air smells in our marina. It was simply a clean air experience that we enjoyed but were taking for granted. When Eileen arrived, her captain let me know that she’s a short-term visitor and after his family trip to Hawaii he would be moving her along to her usual fishing grounds. With a tarp over the Spectra net, there’s really very little to be concerned about, at least there wasn’t for the first week. The second week caused our eyes to water and reduced our time outside.

Eileen leaning during low tide

Since our indoor space is so small, the activities done in one area tend to impact people in the rest of the boat. For example, when James is doing plumbing work, or anything with epoxy, it’s very clear to the whole family. In addition, with all the surface cleaning, and moisture in the air, the cleaning rags in the hamper smell like mildew quite quickly. And though vinegar is nicer smelling than many other cleaning substances, its scent can be pungent.

There are great aromas in the boat as well, especially when I’m cooking! Chocolate chip cookies, hash browns, enchiladas, and soups are some of my favorites so far. This isn’t different from land life, except that the kitchen, living room and dining room are the same room, so food smells stay in the living space much longer.

The best scent outside is from the pine trees in the marina park, as well as the fresh scent of no other smells.

Sounds

The sailboat chimes in the marina are typical and rather pleasant to hear. With the wind whipping around the sails, lines, halyards, and other hardware, the ringing and clanging are constant background sounds to all else. At 5am each day the fishing boats get their start, and we will often hear engines or radio communication as they motor past. Sometimes we even hear voices of those aboard. It’s actually really nice to wake up to the natural sounds of the marine environment, even if it’s a bit earlier than we’d choose to wake up otherwise.

Recently a friend mentioned that she imagined that “rocking to sleep with the movement of the boat” would be heavenly. I can say that often is the case, but not always. Sometimes the increased wind amplifies the aforementioned chimes into a cacophony of clanks, and the water slaps the hull around our ears. This was the case on the night of July 4th and was punctuated by the sound created by our accidentally leaving the flag in its holder just above deck from our cabin. After time I’m sure these unusual sounds will be filed under “common” in our minds, but for now they do tend to attract our attention a bit too much.

Nature

There is a large variety of birds in the area that produce all sorts of sounds as well. Our regular neighbors are pelicans, sea gulls, terns, cormorants, egrets, great egrets, blue herons, sandpipers, pigeons, ducks, crows, and many smaller birds that we’ve not yet identified. Seals come by often and we can see their cute little heads above the water for a minute or so before they fall back under. Near the Berkeley Marina there is a flock of turkeys that has graced us with their presence, parading down and along the road as if we weren’t there.

We’ve gone on several hikes since we got here, since the East Bay Regional Park District is so close and boasts many excellent preserves, and we were able to encounter Ethan’s favorite reptile to stalk: lizards. We also ran into California Bay trees (I chose not to take any bay leaves), and poison oak (we steered clear), plus, rosemary grows around here like a weed, so I did choose to harvest a bit to spice up some bread and soups.

Ethan pausing among the refrigerator trees (Madrone trees)

One of the reasons that I was eager to adopt this cruising lifestyle is that I’m enamored by nature. I feel better physically and mentally when I’m outside, and I love to observe and experience the natural elements of our world. Living on the water provides an immediate closeness to a world that was previously unfamiliar to us, under the sea, with nature in all her glory right beneath and around us. The park that abuts the marina is a destination in itself, for the beautiful view across the bay, and also for the remoteness it provides in the middle of an urban setting.

Though we’ve been focusing on working to make the boat more comfortable to live in, we also recognize that we need to balance that with the actual living. It’s been too easy to dive into the maintenance and projects, and just focus on the boat. Fortunately, we have kept in mind the reason we wanted to cruise in the first place: to explore, to meet new and interesting people, and to learn about and experience local culture and nature.

Each evening when the sun goes down, we have an amazing view of marine-influenced colors and cloud patterns, signifying the clear transition from day to night. The calming sunsets frame the experience, and remind us of how fortunate we are to have the opportunity to choose this lifestyle and to have the courage to pursue it.

Photo Gallery from our first month living aboard Erin Skye:

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If you’d like to be reminded of what we were thinking about a year ago when we purchased Erin Skye, check out that link below.

We Bought a Sailboat!

In this post we will attempt to do something we have never done before. We will merge our two voices. Our voices are so very different at times and yet our thoughts can be very similar. I think it is the pulse and resonance of our individual voices that really set us apart. I suppose you could say I am her sweet as she is my savory. Very different but I hope meaningful to each to our own.

Life Is Change

Without pauses in the rush to get things done, sometimes we don’t allow ourselves time or perspective to reflect, grow, to evolve past the busyness… to appreciate the moment. Last month we were forced to pause, to stop, and say goodbye for the second time in four months to a family member, a soul we have loved deeply, cared for, laughed with, cried for. Some say that our furry friends don’t laugh, but I would disagree. I have felt a bubbling warmth through a doggy grin, a wagging tail, slurping kisses, and playful grunts and growls as heartfelt as any human belly laugh. Recently we said goodbye to our sweet Guinness followed by our big red guy Foster, souls as big as any being we have ever known.

Foster and Guinness in the spotlight

The emptiness we have in our hearts is hollow, quiet, and still. There is not a day that goes by where I don’t feel a lump in my throat and a longing for something that we know will forever be missing.

We will be writing the next chapter of our story within a household that isn’t graced by their presence, who have warmed our hearts, our lives, and our home for so long.

Guinness, in her younger years, before the gray

The Dogful Years

The previous chapter, the dogful one, was pretty long – it started in 2004, the year we got married. 2004 was full of so many promises that would bear fruit for years to come. It was filled with warm laps, food-free floors, furry blankets, loyalty as thick and sweet as honey, and pure companionship. As with many relationships, it was also forged and tempered in the fire of challenges. It was filled with lots of vet visits, cone heads, stomachs pumped, surgeries, and worrying while they spent time in animal hospitals. To offset that, they made us laugh so often, with honks and snorts, and provided enormous heartwarming comfort with their morning huggies.

Foster and Guinness teaching Ethan how to go outside

When we embarked upon these dogful adventures all those years ago, we never expected how those fur babies would impact and enrich our lives for years to come. We feel their loss now with the simplest reminders that follow us through our home-like shadows that are so close but without substance, untouchable, empty. We no longer take strolls around the courtyard or sit down on the couch in the evenings to spend time with Foster and Guinness in our laps. Their blankets are gone where they were once heaped on the couch, nor is there a fluffy bed in front of the fireplace. Sometimes we even miss the noises of elderly dogs that would invariably wake us up in the middle of the night. That light has faded from our lives but not our thoughts, our memories. At times I can almost sense them if I close my eyes and reach out with my heart. It is still too soon and the loss is painful yet bittersweet. Bitter for the loss, and sweet to know they will suffer pain no longer, they are free.

Foster soaking in the sun

With their memories tucked close to our hearts, it is our new adventures that carry us forward.

The New Norm

This change in family makeup forced some much-needed reflection. There are new pages before us, some we have outlined in pencil as they are still in the making, some we have scribbled in ink as they are well underway, many we will write as we go. Through all of them we try to live in the moment as we wait for all the pieces to begin to fit into place. Recently it occurred to Deanna that we had spent some of our last 4-5 months thinking of our current situation as a mere stopover, a temporary place to wait until the pieces become more clear and the REAL adventure begins. This brings to mind Dr. Seuss’s inspirational book about the journey of life and its challenges Oh, the Places You’ll Go! which warns about “The Waiting Place… for people just waiting.” We definitely don’t want to be stuck in the languid grey of that place. While waiting is neither productive, fulfilling, nor renewing, waiting can include value – it just requires a conscious decision to achieve that value.

And that’s where we are today. We are waiting less than 3 months before we move aboard our boat in the San Francisco Bay area, and we are more determined than ever to prepare and be ready, both for the move and also for the lifestyle change. We long to wake in the morning to hear waves lapping against the hull, see wildlife thriving around us, and feel purpose… wagging its tail before us like the two souls that we will forever carry in our hearts

, their spirits with us to in all the places we will go.

Our last family photo with both Foster and Guinness, September 2020

Our routine these days is focused on learning, planning, packing, practicing, sharing, maintaining and improving Erin Skye, and winding down our lives here in the Denver area. A new purpose awaits us and we can feel the promise coursing through our veins.

• By the end of the month, we will make a decision about where Ethan will go to high school
• Near the end of April, Deanna will likely decide whether or not to seek employment in her career field of project management, transition from a part-time to full-time role exploring the story of our world with Erin Skye, or identify an appropriate mixture of both. Whatever is decided in that space will need to be balanced with leadership in Project Managers Without Borders, PMI, and of course family time.
• We will also be identifying how to close out chapters here in Denver: How to bid adieu to friends accumulated over 25 years in this state, finalizing what to do with stuff that isn’t going on the boat, completing the middle school experience, and making the most of what we have here in this state, all during a pandemic. It’s not the way we envisioned it, but as it is with all things in this new life we will live, we will adjust and move forward.

Point Conception in the distance, near Santa Barbara, CA

There’s excitement in that agility, in not having a complete plan but knowing we can react and adjust with the preparations we’ve made. Fate will have its part too, fate and the weather. We can anticipate the wind, read the skies. Yet it is through experience and planning that we will control our destiny. From where we are now, we have a horizon full of possibilities.

Deanna started crafting the bones for these thoughts during a snowstorm, one of the last we expect to experience in a very long time. The scaffolding and the purpose is all hers.  The instrument is of her design, some of the coloring and of course, the chorus from the heartstrings is my doing. We were apart during the time she gave breath to this article while I was prepping Erin Skye for the next leg of her journey north. As the snow continued to fall and she wrapped up the first draft of this story, she passed on these thoughts to me so she and Ethan could be in the moment and not in the waiting place. Outside they went bundled for the storm to build a snowman together, perhaps for the last time in Colorado. We are moving on to create and explore the story of our world. The best place to start is where we are, and the best time is now.

With heartiest of regards,

James

Ethan’s last snowman for a while

Acknowledgments

Special thanks go to Jordan who treated our pups as her own and made them feel special when we were away, Dr. Deanna Miller and her practice Rising Sun Animal Care, who recognized that our dogs were family members and treated them that way, and to BJ and Brenda who hugged us (first time in a year!) despite the pandemic, the hour before we said goodbye to Foster. The heartiest of thanks go to James for holding every one of our canine children when they were freed from suffering, and providing the utmost of care and support, and to Ethan for the idea to give Foster the chance to have his previously-off-limits favorite treats one last time.

Deanna