During our last week of crazy busy cruising preparation, our walking friend Anna shared with us that there was a planetary alignment we could view at 4:30 each morning through our departure date. I woke up early two mornings in a row to view the sight alone, barefoot on the deck that was wet with condensation. I let the teens aboard know of the event and they were happy to join me to witness the moon aligning with the planets on the best viewing day, June 24th, but were soon back in their cabins again slumbering. It was clear that the “stars” were aligning for our departure.

We Say Goodbye to Friends

We shared bagels and connections with friends who stopped by to bid us farewell at our marina the next day. It was fantastic to see everyone and share information about our new lifestyle as well as to connect another time. Ethan’s girlfriend Grace was already in crew mode, fitting right into the routine we were just building, as she had years of cruising experience before joining us for the month.

I was at the helm as we left the dock for the last time in Emeryville, as friends watched and cheered. Our broker and friend Wayne was our fifth crew member on this leg of the journey. He shared the wisdom of his years of experience related to the local conditions, what to expect from other boats (I am prone to assume they can never be trusted), and how to use our radar in foggy and gray conditions.

. .

We Motor Against the Current & Wind

Our trip out the San Francisco Bay and under the Golden Gate Bridge was slower than planned due to a miscalculation relating to the current timing. Usually the wind along the California coast is from the northwest, which would mean that we could bring out the sails to go south, but today it was from the southwest so we motored down the whole way. That was the case the last time we went to Half Moon Bay as well, so we weren’t too surprised.

Wildlife Sends Regards

We jumped up to photograph whales at least four times, one of which included over 10 minutes of rolling backs, flukes, and sprays from about 3 whales in close proximity. We slowed down to observe longer, but were still faster than them at 4 knots.

Several dolphins graced us with their presence, a large shark (we never saw its back but its fin was huge above the water) swam erratically nearby, and when we arrived at Half Moon Bay we saw and heard sea lions, and saw and smelled pelicans.

We Anchor with Ease

Using the remote control, I lowered the anchor and chain watching the new colored length indicators that Ethan and Grace installed a couple days before. James set the anchor then Ethan attached the bridle to take the load off the windlass, the machine that raises and lowers the anchor. Grace gave us high marks for our first anchoring as cruisers and we packed into the dinghy to go to shore to meet up with Wayne’s wife Harriet.

I Drop My Phone in the Ocean

Soon after stepping onto the dinghy dock, I accidentally dropped my phone into the water next to the dingy. I yelled, “Noooo!” and was awash with emotion as my camera, encyclopedia, family tracker, friend-connector, phone, and constant companion dropped out of sight.

We talked to the harbormaster and store employees nearby but none knew anyone who could dive down to search for the phone. Harriet suggested one of us go in after it, but we didn’t have a mask that would allow us to see to identify it, especially down ten feet. Then Wayne realized he knew the owner of a store there, called him, and he recommended a local diver. It took a bit of convincing, but Wayne was able to get the diver to go back to work Saturday night after an exhausting day. An hour after the phone sunk, it was recovered and still worked! I rinsed it off with fresh water and we finally were able to enjoy our seafood dinner at Ketch Joanne.

I Thank My Lucky Stars

One of my favorite quotes is from Thomas Jefferson: “I’m a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work the more I have of it.” Taking this to heart, I plan to research methods to connect my phone to my body to prevent a repeat performance that may not have such a happy ending.

As I put my head on my pillow amid the cacophony of sea lion barking and fog horn notes in Half Moon Bay, I reflect on the day. I expect that our first day as cruisers was a good representation of things to come: lots of highs, a few lows, and ending each day on a high note after much work and more time spent than expected on seemingly simple things.

“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

When I first moved to a marina in the San Francisco Bay, there weren’t a lot of birds that I wasn’t already familiar with from my old stomping grounds of Denver. I’d come to call sea gulls that were inland “trash gulls” as they serve as scavengers whether they are at the coast or not. Pigeons were of course a common sight, and crows, ravens, ducks, geese, and hawks were seen frequently.

Male bufflehead

But when I stopped focusing on getting rid of stuff and the rest of the transition to living in a marina, I noticed that the avian fauna had increased significantly. Had I just not noticed or had it been less in the summertime? Probably the former. There were all sorts of birds that I couldn’t identify, so I researched to find out who my new neighbors were: great blue herons, night herons, great egrets, snowy egrets, Clark’s grebes, lesser scaups, buffleheads (one of my personal favorites), sandpipers, coots, brown pelicans, murres, Forster’s terns, and cormorants.

Great egret, 2 great blue herons, and lots of coots

I’d seen cormorants at the City Park in Denver, all sitting up on the branches on an island off-limits to humans, but their behavior was so different from the ones floating and swimming in the Emeryville marina, seeming to have such a good time. At first I thought they were a different species, but after some research ended up concluding that the double-crested cormorants were just adapting to their different environments. I was enlivened by the new knowledge that filled in the picture of my new marine surroundings.

American coots on land and sea

I learned that cormorants can often be seen extending or flapping their wings on rocks or while floating on the water to dry them off, and that their flying that skips along the water is the most labored out of all water birds. I learned that the behavior of the first year juvenile California Gull we dubbed Bob is definitely out of the ordinary, with his constant and prolonged (I mean months) whimpering and pecking at the bird I assume is his mother. We can now identify him by his posture alone, but we usually don’t have to since his voice is distinct enough and detected before his visual presence is.

When we sailed down to Half Moon Bay last year, we were entertained by murre that popped down below the sea surface before we got too close. I learned that the murre can dive up to 600 feet to catch their prey, but I still can’t fathom it.

Birds of a Feather

Knowing of my interest in local birds, a marina employee suggested I volunteer for the Audubon’s Christmas Bird Count. That morning was supposed to be the coldest morning the San Francisco Bay Area had seen in 5 years, but it clearly was not, as I had seen 39 degrees on my morning walk just the previous week. The day’s temperatures stayed in the range of 42 to 45 degrees but I was prepared for the chill with my snowboarding gear including gator and gloves.

Crow near horses

They say the early bird catches the worm, and if you want to count those well-fed examples of efficiency, you should be out early as well. Though I was the youngest member of the 4-person team by over 10 years and the only person with less than 15 years of experience, I felt a kinship with my bird counting team of fellow nature lovers.

It turned out that my expanded knowledge of shorebirds since moving to Emeryville six months prior did not prepare me very well to identify the 50 species that we encountered during the Christmas count. I knew about 20 of them. They took me under their wings and shared information about how to identify and record what we were seeing, and what tools to use in the process, such as eBird and Merlin, both from Cornell.

At Thornton Beach looking south for birds

I fell into the role of spotter, saying things like, “There’s a brown smallish bird up the hill on the large bush, a little to the left,” and “I think that’s a blue jay.” My eagle eye was responsible for finding the brown pelican, merlin and orange-crowned warbler (that was actually all yellow.)

The knowledge and interests of my colleagues were very deep, but not wide. I shared information about the behavioral anomaly of Bob, and the gull expert on the team shrugged it off and changed the subject. When we saw a dog walker with 9 dogs (of course I counted, I was on a counting trip) I was curious to watch them and figure out how the human kept the unleashed dogs in sight. The others didn’t act like they even saw the dogs. When a walker with 11 dogs came around, I excitedly discussed how I thought they must have dog temperament interviews and specific selection criteria in order to make that situation work, and it became clear that the rest of my team wanted to move along to other bird-focused topics.

Great egret with snowy egret

Besides seaside locales and a shopping mall, we visited a cemetery, school, retirement home, and a park to do the counting in our assigned area. We found cowbirds in the horse corrals, great-tailed grackles in a parking lot, and hundreds of sanderlings on the beach. When we were finished with counting at our last location, the man with almost 60 years of birding experience said he was off to complete 9 other Christmas counts before the end of the year. That’s some dedication. It also helped me recognize that while I appreciate my foray into the world of birding, I will not be dedicating myself to it as a primary interest, but swooping into it when I see a particularly interesting specimen and when time allows.

Under My Wing

Right now my time allows for being outdoors and increasing the amount of exercise I get, so when I learned of The Audubon Society’s free birdwatching hikes, I figured I’d sign up for one occasionally.

Ethan taking a photo of the hummingbird on her nest

It was near the end of Ethan’s time off for winter break in January so I asked him (then when he declined, required him) to join me on a nature walk at Salesforce Park, a public urban park atop the 4^th story of the transit center connected with the Salesforce Tower, the tallest feature of the San Francisco skyline.

Twice a year for the previous eight years Ethan had chosen a unit of study to focus on at school, and a quarter of them had been related to flight: peregrine falcons, Blue Angels, paper airplanes, and engineering (with a focus on aviation) and he’s always been fond of birds, so I knew he’d eventually warm up to the idea. I’m sure that waking up early was his biggest objection, since he’s a teenager and such a night owl.

White crowned sparrow in urban park

Within a short period of time after arriving he became interested in what we were finding, and he was fascinated with the Anna’s hummingbird that flitted to and from her walnut-sized nest (see Instagram for the video). We learned that male hummingbirds don’t tend to the eggs, but we knew the bird’s gender by her coloring alone.

By the end of the event, we had exercised a bit, experienced a unique park, learned about a few species of birds, spent time outdoors, and spent time together. Next we walked a few blocks to get Mexican food that was being advertised through our olfactory receptors.

I envy birds their ability to fly and was reminded of my time hang gliding as a sport and for recreation. It was liberating to be free of the ground and pre-defined paths, to have a bird’s eye view of the landscape, and to feel like nothing was in my way. Being on the sea is a similar kind of freedom, though the realm is entirely different, definitely more wet. It represents not just the road less traveled, but the lack of a road at all, and a vast open stretch of possibilities for learning and adventure. Perhaps more than any other aspect of this new lifestyle, I enjoy the connection with nature that is so much more direct and apparent.

It’s not a surprise that our cruising plans may be impacted by weather. In fact, if they weren’t it would be an indication that we were not paying Mother Nature the respect she deserves, and we’d suffer the consequences of this recklessness pretty quickly. Consequently, it’s well known that one should not set forth cruising plans on a schedule, but allow weather to dictate the specifics instead. Many a harrowing story has started with, “We needed to be there on time, but the weather didn’t cooperate,” and continues on to indicate that the journey occurred anyway and some less-than-ideal results were experienced.

Our Christmas Cruise was planned with all sorts of flexibility built in, contingencies and options to support decisions made closer to the time when we would have good information about the weather forecast. It started as a voyage to a different location each day, making the most of our opportunity to sail or motor around, and maximizing our unique destination experiences. However, as the date came closer, it became clear that the weather was going to be a bigger player than we’d thought. The forecast was for 8 days of rain to start a day after we left, and local news outlets were touting this weather event to put this year in the top 10 of precipitation years on record for the area. When we woke up the morning we left it was 39 degrees.

We huddled while we walked around in the cold

No problem, I thought, we needed to practice sailing in the rain and cold anyway. When we’re cruising the world we’ll need to sail through all sorts of weather, and it’s great to have the opportunity to gain experience and confidence in our local cruising grounds first, right? Right.

While moored without a connection to power at Angel Island in the past we’d learned that our batteries couldn’t support our minimum electrical requirements for two nights, so I’d made plans to stay at an anchorage every other night and at marinas for the others in order to get the recharge needed without having to use the diesel-powered generator. This would take us to three different marinas and four anchorages over the week. As I learned about the possibility of really strong winds, I made arrangements with the marinas for flexibility on either side of our scheduled stays so we could work around any weather we’d rather not anchor in.

Erin Skye in Clipper Cove

Our first night we anchored at Clipper Cove at Treasure Island, a new destination for us. It was a beautiful anchorage, with only two other boats giving us plenty of room to maneuver and claim our own space. We used the dinghy to get to shore and walked around the tiny man-made island to get a feel for it, noting lots of construction, traffic, and a few unique establishments like a winery, a gin distillery, and a restaurant made from shipping containers. Returning before 4:00pm when the dinghy dock closed, we spent the afternoon in leisure, practicing a variety of movements with a remote control water drone, observing sea birds, playing Canasta, eating chili, and appreciating our beautiful view of the San Francisco Bay Bridge. But, we did this all in the cold.

Ethan confusing the birds with his water drone

We usually run an electric heater in the saloon when it’s cold, but without a connection to shore power, and knowing that our batteries were not in great condition, we opted not to use much of our battery power for heat. The down blankets worked pretty well overnight, but in the morning we all agreed that this week in the winter wasn’t the best time to spend at anchor in the San Francisco Bay. A few phone calls later, the rest of our week was firmly scheduled at marinas.

Cream of chicken and wild rice soup to warm us up!

So, we ended up visiting 3 marinas and one anchorage during the week. Spending more time in one location was much more relaxing than moving every day, and we got to investigate the local surroundings, visit friends, and get to know the ports we visited more than we would have otherwise. Being cruisers means getting used to changes in plans and learning to adapt quickly so we can take advantage of the opportunities those changes present. Our week was full of connection, down time, wonder, and learning, and I’m glad that Mother Nature helped us experience the opportunities we did.

The boat of our friends Wayne and Harriet showing its festive colors for the holidays