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The magic of staying put

Paekakariki Escarpment track

“You are never more essentially yourself than when you are still.”

– Eckhart Tolle

The title of this post is not our motto but an aspiration. We hate staying put. We’re counting down the days until the end of the lease on our flat (177 remaining, in case you were wondering). Our feet are itchy, our bodies ache for movement across the planet. I can look out our front window at the sea and it kills me that the whole world can be reached if we just step away from this shore.

But 178 days from now, I’m pretty sure we’ll be right here, still. And–true to my aspiration of staying put and staying present–I’ll keep trying to focus on the joy of that. And there is a lot: the school Leah and Holly are attending is amazing (Holly’s gone from reading BOB books with frustration to Neil Gaiman chapter books in less than six months) and both girls are making lots of friends. Michael’s got a new ICT position, working in the public sector again. We love this beautiful, watery part of New Zealand and are really glad we landed here. And despite my occasional threats to get a job at our local pet shop, I really do enjoy tap-tap-tapping away at my keyboard every day, stringing words together.

We’re all getting older, faster every day it seems and sometimes the urgency to make the most of this time we have is overwhelming. I can’t help but gaze longingly at Google Earth, at all there is to see in the world. We’ve tended, ahem, to jump headlong into wild ideas in the past. But right now, just resting here, we’re back in the dreaming phase. Trying out ideas, letting them simmer, tossing them aside. And then just gazing out the window, remembering how incredibly lucky we are to be here.

 

Sunset Parade

 

How to Move to New Zealand coverBut another benefit of staying still is seeing a project from idea to draft to finish. And here’s the latest result of all my tap-tap-tapping: a full-length eBook based on our most popular post ever, How to Move to New Zealand in 31 Easy Steps. Ever since I published that post three years ago, I’ve gotten countless emails from readers all over the world asking for more details on the New Zealand immigration process. Now, I’m not a licensed immigration adviser, so I’m not able to give specific advice to anyone, but I have enjoyed pointing people to resources for job-hunting, work visas, and tips to moving to New Zealand. Earlier this year I got the idea of putting it all together into one volume and I’m proud to announce the eBook is officially available to purchase (with print coming soon)! I worked with my Voyaging With Kids coauthor Michael Robertson and his new publishing company, Force Four Publications for this project and I’m so excited to send it out into the world.

The eBook is now available at:

kindleIBooksnookkobo

 

 

Here’s a gorgeous peek at our ‘hood. Can you tell why we love it here?

The Wing’n it has landed.

20160429_manabeachgirlsOne of the overarching goals of our extended tiki tour here in Zealandia was to decide which of our favorite corners we should settle down in for a while. Believe it or not, after nearly eight months together in an 18-foot long motorhome we are kind of ready to spread out a bit. Michael got to work on getting his CV out in the IT world again; I gaped at the 3-inch stack of paper that is my first printed draft of a novel (ok, single-sided and double spaced, but still). And the girls were literally begging to start back in school again (it worked…ha!).

But the problem was…where?? We loved boaty, beachy Tauranga, sunny Nelson, Scottish Dunedin. We still loved quirky, cool, windy Wellington and even Auckland with her wild west coast beaches and eastern islands. There is the Bay of Islands full of friends and boats. And what about somewhere completely off the map like Invercargill or New Plymouth? (Or, maybe not.)

Oriental Parade, Wellington

Welly

Welly train

In the end, our hearts pulled for Wellington so we pointed Wing’n it‘s bow south for one final time after we arrived back in Auckland from Tonga. But little did we know, back in early February, that our decision-making had only begun. Wellington’s not just a city, but a huge region; commuters flow into the city all the way from the Wairarapa and Hutt Valley to the northeast, and from Kapiti and Porirua on the southwest coast. And then there’s the plethora of funky neighborhoods in and bordering the city proper. All of which are serviced by Wellington’s world-class commuter train and bus networks. Now where do we go?!

Job hunting kinda sucks. Really thankful the girls love the library.

Job hunting kinda sucks. Really thankful the girls love the library.

Learning how to skate. A tiny adventure.

Learning how to skate. A tiny adventure.

And so it happened that by wing’n it, we ended up right where we needed to be. Wellington’s got some choice freedom camping spots and while Michael hunted for work we spent time at nearly all of them. We spent many nights at Evan’s Bay Marina just minutes from downtown and at parks on the south coast watching the sun set over the Cook Strait. But as much as we thought we wanted to live right in the bustling city, after a few days in town we always found ourselves aching for a quiet spot by the sea.

Freedom camping in the city (Evans Bay Marina, Wellington)

Freedom camping in the city (Evans Bay Marina, Wellington).

Ngatitoa Domain with our new 'hood in the distance

Ngatitoa Domain with our new ‘hood in the distance.

Just to the north of Wellington is Porirua Harbour. The city of the same name lies at the southern end but scattered around it are small neighborhoods and parks. We found ourselves coming back to the domain in Mana again and again. With Wing’n it parked right on the edge of the quiet turquoise sea, we most enjoyed unwinding after the busyness of the city. We’d park our camping chairs on the grass and watch: seagulls, families picnicking, kite boarders, sailboats, windsurfers, brave swimmers, fishing-folk. We’d chat with our rotating NZMCA neighbors, walk to the dairy for an ice-cream, stroll over the marina and look at boats. Eventually we stayed so long we wondered if we should register to vote there.

Then, one morning Michael came back from his morning run, all abuzz. “I just found the coolest little neighborhood…cafes, cottages right on the beach, people everywhere chatting and happy. You’ve got to come see this place!” The next day we drove the Wing’n it over for our second coffee and it was exactly as he said: a great coffee shop on the corner, a fish & chip shop, a dairy, Indian and Thai and Polish restaurants, a boating club, a beautiful primary school right there…all with kids and dogs and families milling about everywhere. It is quintessentially Kiwi. Best of all, there is a train station: hop on and it takes you to the center of Wellington city in 25 minutes.

Everything, as it seems to do, fell into place after that. We found a funky old bach to rent right across from the beach, Michael got not one but two job offers, we enrolled the girls in school, and even found the most adorable kitten ever at the local SPCA. We parked the Wing’n it in front of our little garage and moved out. It took about 30 minutes.

That was a month ago and we’re still so in love with where we’ve landed. The girls’ new school is warm and welcoming, shoes optional, and learning is fun, no pressure required. We can walk around the corner to the village for a coffee and ice-cream and hello to a neighbor. Or head the other direction, out to the coastal tracks. Michael takes the train into the city to work, and is home by 6 to watch the sun set past Mana Island, across the Cook Strait, dipping behind the Marlborough Sounds.

A lovely place to just be.

Our new wheels are a little more fun to drive. Sorry, Wing'n it.

Our new wheels are a little more fun to drive. Sorry, Wing’n it.

Just another weekday morning. We will miss this.

Just another weekday morning. We will miss this.

Moving day. Our new little place is the add-on on top of the original bach below. I'm standing on the beach, taking this photo.

Moving day. Our new little place is the add-on on top of the original bach below. I’m standing on the beach, taking this photo.

We went a bit crazy with our brand-new library card.

We went a bit crazy with our brand-new library card.

The hardest thing about coming back to NZ was leaving our beloved cats behind. We fulfilled our promise to get another as soon as possible. Then this guy showed up. Mr. Mouse. The coolest cat ever.

The hardest thing about coming back to NZ was leaving our beloved cats behind. We fulfilled our promise to get another as soon as possible. And just in time, we met Mr. Mouse. The coolest cat ever.

Sunset Parade

The walk to school really can't be beat.

The walk to school really can’t be beat.

Last days, unemployed

Sunset over Mana

Bach'n it

Bach’n it

 

The joy of helping dreams become real

Feast your eyes on this:

VWK - Chapter 5

And this:

VWK text 3

And this:

VWK text 2

This one too:

VWK - Chapter 6

I’ll be honest with you—never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the words that Behan, Michael, and I wrote would come together to look as beautiful as those pages. When I first saw the proofs that came over email from our publisher Lin, tears literally came to my eyes when I saw the gorgeous book our words have evolved into.

But while we started out as a team of just the three of us, the number of people that have become involved has grown to a team of literally hundreds of people: our families of course, our publisher Lin, our editor Tim Murphy, our designer Steven Horsley, our proofreader Michelle Elvy. But it also could not have happened without the contributions of words, photos, and ideas from over 65 (!) voyaging families and former cruising kids. I may be biased, but I think taking your kids sailing is one of the best ways to parent and a lot of other people think so too. But it’s not the easiest, that’s for sure. Which is the reason our book exists.

The thing I love most about cruising is how the people who live this life are always so eager to share information with the ones following in their wakes. Whether it’s specific anchorage information, weather advice, or just general encouragement, helping others with their cruising dreams is half the fun of this life. I know we are incredibly grateful for the advice our own cruising mentors gave us when we were just starting out (and will be looking for more when we head out again!). A lot has changed in the world of voyaging—boats, social media, satellite phones, iPad navigation—but not this. Helping new voyagers set off on their own brand new adventures is just as exciting as heading out on our own.

So to have been involved in a project of this magnitude is simply thrilling. The book is on the presses as I type this and we’re putting the finishing touches on the interactive eBook. Six more weeks before our baby is in my hands—and hopefully yours. I can’t wait to hear about the family voyaging dreams—and lives of living intentionally, together—that become real because of it.

For more on the book, visit www.voyagingwithkids.com

For earliest printed book delivery, order directly from paracay.com

Print and ebook preorders now available on Amazon.com

VWK coverVWK back cover

The book that changed our lives

Wondertime Girls at Cape Reinga

There are pivotal moments in a child’s life when a single hug is worth more than a dozen Hope Diamonds. Will you be there? Will you know? Will you be able to sense that moment and realize its importance? Will you have the wisdom to stop whatever mundane thing you are doing, embrace your child, and say, “I love you”?

—Gary “Cap’n Fatty” Goodlander, from the foreword to Voyaging With Kids

 

Voyaging With Kids Cover

Nearly a year has passed since we’ve returned to the U.S. from New Zealand.

It has been a busy and wonderful year. But it has not been an easy year.

We’ve manifested the idyllic home life we envisioned while afloat: cats and a dog and kids running around in the woods. Getting to spend time with our extended families again. A comfortable couch to put our feet up at the end of the day to watch Game of Thrones. All my books freed from their storage boxes and lined up neatly on shelves. Time to write, thanks to our local school district’s “school for homeschoolers.”

I have also spent most of the past year writing Voyaging With Kids with my two co-authors, Behan and Michael. Sometimes this was the most difficult thing of all, and for reasons completely unexpected. Sure there were the hours and hours of rewrites, sorting photos, interviewing other cruising families. The carpel tunnel in my right wrist flared up. My eyeballs bugged out, dry and gritty, from so many hours staring at my laptop screen. But this was not the difficult part: at the end of a long writing or editing day I’d fall asleep exhausted, but exhilarated, at what we were creating. It’s a really, really good book and anyone contemplating longer-term family travel–not just via boat–will find value in it.

No, the difficult part was writing about the time in our lives when we had…time. It seemed so simple, living and sailing aboard Wondertime. I know that many days were anything but that, and some days I wanted to jump overboard just to get a few moments to myself. But as our girls have grown, I see now that was due mostly to their ages. Now at 6 and 9 they entertain themselves for hours (they are doing just that right now as I type this). Which is what makes my heart hurt, the fact that they are growing up so, so fast and our time together just keeps speeding on. The weeks fly by with all our scheduled activities. Michael is at work 10 hours a day, what is required to pay for our new, idyllic life, and misses out on even more.

The difficult part was missing being a cruising family: slow meals together, hours to read aloud, playing games together, meandering down a warm, deserted beach, impromptu get-to-togethers with new friends. Watching our girls grow into fascinating, inquisitive people.

The difficult part is that the dreams won’t stop. Places we want to see, things we want to do… just keep coming. I felt like a fraud at times, writing about how amazing it is to travel as a family, how showing our girls the world and how other people live–and how much they are the same–was the best education we could possibly give them. How experiences are far more important than things. How time with people is more important than anything. All the while struggling to find these things in our new land life.

So a funny thing happened while writing a book that we hope will help many other families to let go of all that’s unimportant, take a chance, and go out and slowly explore the world.

It convinced me to do the same.

And then there’s something else. Another type of clock has been ticking, and as mid-June is approaching it’s been getting louder and louder. It’s the date our New Zealand residency will expire if we’re not back on NZ soil by then. When we flew back to the States last year we’d accepted that we were giving that up. Or so we thought.

Because, the truth be told, after all the soul-searching we’ve done the past year it’s become crystal clear: we’d rather live as paupers in a tiny RV in New Zealand, traveling around and getting some part-time work (or working part of the year) and having the rest to explore as a family. Time together again.

We left part of our hearts in that beautiful, friendly, socially-advanced country, but we thought we could let it go in favor of a “better” life. We didn’t get a better life, we got a different one. Some things are more difficult down there, some here. But one thing is for sure: we can’t let the dream, and the hope for the future, of our adoptive home of New Zealand go.

So we won’t. It’s time to let the wind blow us around again, for a little bit longer.

We spent our final week in NZ traveling in a small motorhome. The one will buy will not be even close to this luxurious. But no matter. We know what true luxury means: time together.

We spent our final week in NZ traveling in a small motorhome. The one we’ll buy when we’re back in early June will not be even close to this luxurious. But no matter. We know what true luxury means: time together.

Driving in New Zealand doesn't have all the drama of voyaging under sail...but it's close.

Driving in New Zealand doesn’t have all the drama of voyaging under sail…but it’s close.

Where else can you wake up to find miniature ponies outside your front door?

Where else can you wake up to find miniature ponies outside your front door?

There is so much cool shit to see.

There is so much cool shit to see.

"Mom, can we go back to Piha when we go back to New Zealand?" Yes, yes we can, Holly.

“Mom, can we go back to Piha when we go back to New Zealand?”

A Tour of My Writing Mind and Some News

Lulu, the ultimate writing distraction

Back when we were living in Auckland last January, I had a webpage open on my laptop. My finger was poised above my touchpad, nearly ready to click. The button the little white finger on my screen hovered over read: “Click here if you accept our offer of admission for the three years of hell that is nursing school” or something like that.

Just then, I saw a new email had arrived. I hesitated. I clicked over to my Gmail tab to read the message. It was from my friend, Michael Robertson. He had sent it to me and another cruising friend, Behan Gifford. In it, Michael wrote he had overdosed on chocolate covered espresso beans the night before during his watch. While he had since recovered, one of the delusional thoughts that had entered his brain the previous night remained when morning finally arrived. He explained his wild-haired idea to us as best he could. Did we think we could do it?

I promptly forgot about clicking that button for nursing school. I finally admitted to myself that while it will likely not bring fame, or money, but rather back spasms, tears, and frustration, this was the sign I was looking for. That I should do what I’ve always wanted, which is just to write stuff for other people to read and hopefully change something tiny about the world. Because while at the end of a full day of writing my wrists are kinked and my brain is sore, looking at those words on the page brings such personal fulfillment and joy. And then utter defeat, because they all suck and will need to be changed the next day.

Behan nominated me to answer a few questions for a writer’s blog tour that’s going around. I won’t nominate anyone else, because I don’t want to stress anyone out, but if you want to answer the questions on your own blog, do let me know and I’ll add a link.

 

What am I currently working on?

The project Michael envisioned while high on espresso beans is quickly coming to fruition: the three of us are coauthoring a book we’re calling Voyaging With Kids, a Guide to Family Life Afloat. It’s the book we all wished we’d had when we first cast off years ago. The book will be published by L&L Pardey Books when it’s completed. Our mission is to draft a guide as complete and up-to-date with as many differing viewpoints as possible with all the aspects of sail or power cruising with kids we can think of: from choosing a boat, homeschooling, laundry, health care, babies, teens, relationship issues, swallowing the anchor, and much more.

While this project is quickly hurtling towards deadline, I’ve also decided to write a novel as part of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). It’s like the marathon of the writing world. What seems to be developing before my bleary eyes is a middle grade (for 9-12s) fiction book. It involves a sailboat and a tropical island and cute boys, natch. I honestly have no idea what will come of these particular words, but I am having a hoot writing them down. I’ve also learned what it feels like to sit down and write when I swear I have nothing to say because in order to “win” NaNoWriMo (i.e. get 50K words down by November 30th) I have to average 1,667 words a day. I’ve discovered that once I sit down, fingers poised over the keyboard, a story clue will pop out of nowhere in an hour or two. I’ll start typing then and be off and away in my own invented world where I have very little control over my imaginary people for a few hours. It’s really, really fun.

 

How does my work differ from others in my genre?

Since I’m not really sure what my genre is, I have no idea. I like to keep it real, I like to tell stories, I like to make people feel like they are not alone. But that’s not all that different from other writers, is it? I’m still discovering what my genre is, but while I’m enjoying my non-fiction and various freelance writing projects, I’ve always been a lover of fiction and have a strong feeling that’s where I’m going to spend my writing time in the future. Maybe.

 

PegaLeah, age 5Why do I write what I do?

So here’s why I decided to do NaNoWriMo at the last minute this year: Leah, at nearly 9, is having a world of trouble finding books that she likes. She’s a voracious reader, but she hates books about “stupid” girls like you find in “Dork Diaries,” and “stupid pony books” [she also hates being reminded that she was a pony from the ages of 4 to 5.] Her favorite characters are Coraline from “Coraline” and Violet from “A Series of Unfortunate Events” but she really prefers humor and adventure, over the  horror-for-children genre that seems to be popular. But check out this list of the most popular middle grade books: how many of those feature strong pre-teen girl characters? After struggling to find books featuring likeable, strong girls at her 7th-grade reading level but 9-year-old maturity, I thought what the heck? I’ll write a book for Leah. I’m not sure I’m succeeding at that, but I’m definitely learning a lot about writing in the process.

Voyaging With Kids follows a similar reasoning: the cruising world needs it, it will help people, we want to write it, so off we go. I’m loving writing this book too, except it makes me want to pack my swimsuit and jandals in a bag and fly back to my lonely boat. (But I just double-checked my piggy bank. Still empty except for a few paʻanga rolling around in there.)

 

How does my writing process work?

I sit down in a chair and I type on my laptop. Sometimes I just stay in bed in my jammies, or sit on the couch with my feet up on a bean bag. It’s a hard life. I’m drinking a lot of coffee lately (but maybe that’s because it’s dark by 4:30?)

Even if I manage to cobble down some notes or an outline, what I usually write is totally different. I don’t use notebooks. I’ve tried. I’ve got stacks of empty notebooks, both pretty and plain. Instead, I use Evernote since I can access notes on my phone and any computer I’m using. For coauthoring, we are using Word and Dropbox. For my fiction projects, I’m using Scrivener; it’s an amazing program for organizing all the bits and pieces that come out of thin air and maybe even into your brain someday.

Back to school, back to writing

The girls arrive home from school

This blog has been quiet lately. I suppose that’s normal, since Wondertime is still 7,000 miles away and we haven’t been doing much sailing here or anywhere. Both girls are back in school full-time, a kindergartener and a third grader. They ride the yellow school bus to and fro and are generally having a great time, making new friends and getting re-acquainted with old ones. They both rush home excited to complete their homework so we must have done something right as we fumbled along in our boatschooling.

Which leaves me, home alone, all by myself for seven — count ’em! — SEVEN hours a day. For the first time in nearly nine years. It’s heaven, seriously. I’m not eating bon bons on the couch and watching daytime TV (is that even on still?), although I have picked up my Kindle during the day a few times. No, I’ve been pounding this keyboard like I’m trying to put it out of commission. And couldn’t be happier.

I’m loving writing full-time, and like anything, am finding the more that I do what I love, the more opportunities pop out of seemingly nowhere. I’ve been writing about sailing of course, but also touching on topics that I don’t like to write about, and finding those stories just as important.

Pacific Yachting Cover - November 2014

I’ve also been working on a much bigger writing project that I’m very excited about. More news on that will come in a month or two, so stay tuned.

When boats stop cruising and posts dwindle away to nothing, I’m always disappointed. I want to know what’s next for the people I’ve followed along across oceans. What are they doing now? How have they changed? What have they learned? I’m still trying to figure out that myself, so I’ll keep writing, with hopes to encourage others to take a chance, whether it’s cruising or anything else.

What are you wondering about? Let me know in the comments, or send an email. I’d love to write about it.

Leah writing a report for school. It’s not due for three more weeks. Maybe she didn’t get the procrastination gene?

My little brother finally gets hitched to his junior high sweetheart. Congratulations Cam and Katelyn!

My adorable baby brother finally gets hitched to his junior high sweetheart. Congratulations Cam and Katelyn!

Bubble girls

Bubble girls

It's been four years since our first real winter. It's coming, and we can't wait.

It’s been four years since we’ve experienced a real winter. It’s coming, and we can’t wait.

Home Waters

Back on the water, Olympia, WA USA

We went sailing last weekend. It was late Sunday afternoon, on a friend’s small boat. We sailed back and forth in superlight summer breeze across the head of Olympia’s Budd Inlet. After a whirlwind past four months, we felt…done.

Back in May, still in New Zealand, we bought a house in our old, affordable Olympia neighborhood next to Capitol Forest, packed and shipped our stuff back to the U.S., moved Wondertime to the sales dock in Whangarei, kissed our good ship good-bye, took a quick RV trip up to Cape Reinga, jetted back to Washington State, signed our house papers, moved our eight bags in, unloaded our storage unit, bought some patio chairs, then sat back and listened to the birds twitter in the tops of our 7 acres of trees with a proper Pacific Northwest IPA in hand.

Was it as easy as that? God no. Many times during the process of returning home did I feel like I was going to explode into a thousand pieces. But it was necessary, and knowing that kept us going. Earlier this year, we tired of the struggle and pulled the plug. It was that simple. The lack of any kind of support system was wrecking havoc on our family. Struggling to make financial ends meet in one of the most expensive cities in the world was disheartening, with Michael trudging off to a well-paying job daily. We had to sneakaboard to sleep in our home. We couldn’t afford to visit our families, and they couldn’t afford to visit us. We missed them, and were sad they had missed so much of our girls growing up already. Our simple life aboard and abroad had become anything but. We love New Zealand so, it was a terrible decision to make.

Somehow, it all came together and we were back in Olympia by late May. In June, Michael started work again and the girls and I kept ourselves busy making our new house a home (o massive thrift shops! how I missed you!), rekindled old friendships, and played in our creek. It’s been a quiet summer: catching frogs, getting to know our new/old neighbors better, carving trails, camping in the backyard, fireworks, sprinklers, s’mores over the fire, watching the weeds grow. Settling back in. Missing New Zealand profoundly, as we knew we would. Everyone does.

It’s late August now, only two more weeks until school starts up. Michael’s been helping our good friend Garth (you might remember reading about him on our way south, he was our first brave crewmember) get the engine of his little Pearson 28 running before summer’s run out. We finally got the chance to head out with him last weekend, on a perfect PNW late-summer afternoon.

Sailing our favorite waters

Of course, the engine wouldn’t start when we got out to the boat. Not a problem for Michael MacGyver Johnson who jumped below, contorted his body in impossible ways in the tiny quarter cabin and rewired that sucker. He was determined to get us out on the water.

As expected, the engine purred to life soon after and we puttered out of the marina. In 5 knots of wind we put up the sails, cut the engine, and felt the weight of our world drop away at the so familiar sound of water trickling past the hull.

Leah had been below reading her kindle (having earlier refused to go out with us because “my sailing days are over” and “sailing is stupid”). She grabbed a life jacket and joined Holly on the bow. Not far ahead was Hope Island and she suddenly begged to go there, to see the Onion Tree once again, hike our trail again. We hated to break it to her that we were only out for a few hours, and besides we hadn’t a dinghy with us and weren’t going to swim ashore. Another day, we promised.

Sailing girls, Olympia

We zig-zagged back and forth several times, then Michael handed me the tiller. It had been a long, long time since I’d held a tiller on a small boat. Such a simple and true thing. Just a titch in one direction or the other and I could feel the exact moment when the boat was satisfied. I’d hold it there for a while, and then the wind would shift a bit, or change in velocity and I’d have to make the proper adjustment. Then we’d carry on.

With the tiller in my hand, I saw that everything I wanted is right here: two beautiful, happy children, a partner in life, love, and adventure who is willing to grow and change alongside me, a loving community, a cozy home, a daily shower, a desk of my own, cats sleeping under it, paid writing gigs, memories of grand adventures and seeds of more to come, and my beloved Salish sea, once again on our doorstep.

Our house. "It's shaped like a boat!" my Dad said when I emailed him the line drawings from NZ.

Our little house. “It’s shaped like a boat!” my Dad said when I emailed him the line drawings from NZ.

 

Brand new simple pleasures

 

Our backyard. No nature deficit disorder here.

Our backyard. No nature deficit disorder here. The creek will be filled with putrefying salmon come November. They swim from the ocean into Puget Sound, down into Mud Bay, and upstream to our little creek where they leave their little ones to grow.

 

My dream come true: a writing desk with a view

My dream come true: a writing desk with a view, and the sound of ravens outside.

 

Meet cat #3 (not a typo): Lulu. We love her.

Meet cat #3 (not a typo): Lulu. We love her. She joins Penny and Tui, older siblings we adopted from our local cat rescue.

Our Family Adventure Podcast

Wondertime family at Cape Reinga, NZ

The team at Family Adventure Podcast recently contacted us to talk about our sailing journey and we are thrilled that the podcast is up! Listen to us muse aloud about why we left to go sailing when our youngest was still in Pull-ups, how we paid for it all, what living in New Zealand was like, why we left, and what we’ve been up to for the past few months and what’s next.

You can download the podcast from iTunes or directly here. And a HUGE thanks to our new friend-on-the-wrong-oops-I-mean-other-coast, Erik Hemingway for including us in his family’s project of inspiration. Do head over and listen to the other podcasts too but beware the wanderlust they will cause! Enjoy!

A New Adventure

I’ll write more later, but I just wanted to put a quick note up that we’ve officially put Wondertime on the market.

View her details here.

We’ve sailed as far as we needed to, but she’s ready to travel on with a new family.

Back to School

First Day of School

While it seems like summer is finally getting underway here, it’s already back-to-school time. Yesterday, both girls started their new classes at their Auckland primary school. It was Holly’s first full-day of school, ever.

I was so looking forward to it. All of us were. We were all a bit tired of bumping into each other on the boat and looking forward to this week, when we could each head out into the city on our own to learn and explore. I was anxious to get started on writing down some of the stories that have been bouncing inside my head. Both girls were excited to see the friends we hadn’t been able to see over break again.

Today, after dropping them off at their new classrooms for the second morning in a row I came back to our empty, silent boat. I made myself a latte and sat down, the whole settee to myself. And felt the unease that had been looming settle in.

Yesterday after school I tried to coax the girls into telling me how their first day back at school was. “Oh, it was good,” Holly answered. “Fine,” was Leah’s response. They both had had fun at recess and were glad to be able to play together this year. After a little downtime with a snack and an audiobook, the girls threw on some ratty shorts and t-shirts. They grabbed their life jackets and jumped down to the dock and peered down into the water, their small fishing net poised to snatch any unsuspecting fishes that would soon swim by. I had dinner on the table before I was able to coax them back on the boat, each girl talking at such a rapid pace I could barely follow them: they’d seen tiny jellyfish with bright red middles, spent some time scraping invasive fanworms off the dock, caught some more shrimp, were certain they’d seen a nudibranch (“but it was dead”).

The memory of this wants to break me apart today.

Day 1 agenda

Year 1, day 1 agenda

I remember all that we experienced over the school break: hiking out at Great Barrier, Leah’s fascination with carnivorous plants (resulting in a pile of books from the library and our very own Venus Fly Trap that we miraculously haven’t killed yet), afternoons at the swimming pool, Holly singing along to friends jamming on ukeleles late into the summer’s night. It seems cruel to stuff them into these classrooms that seem boring even to me: a few books on a shelf, a couple buckets of blocks, a table of computers and some ipads stuck in the corner. Teachers that seem rushed and busy and overwhelmed, already. The days of dressups, sand boxes, fingerpaints at school gone for good. I can’t help but wonder: what are they actually learning? How to get along with others? How to sit quietly and wait your turn? How to sit in your cubicle and get your work done as told? The cynic in me sees what the end goal really is.

Leah’s hope for school this year is that there is more science this year than last. In my heart I know she’s got years before they move on to the type of knowledge she regularly seeks out on her own, before they move on from the basics of reading, writing, and maths. I just tell her, “I hope so too. But we can learn about science on our own too.”

At the age of 8, I watch Leah invent projects for herself, get interested in subjects and want to research them to death. There’s a pile of notebooks in her bed that is filling with notes and drawings. She plans outings for us, museums she wants to go visit. She asks for certain books from the library and spends hours reading in bed to herself. Maybe this is all that learning is about. After years of feeling overwhelmed by the idea of homeschooling, I think I finally understand that my main job would be to just get out of the way.

Then again, it’s been eight looooong years since I’ve had this many hours all to myself so maybe it’s just something to get used to. It’s always difficult sending your last baby off to school. But now I’m writing this at 1 in the afternoon, not at 11 pm. The girls’ primary has allowed us to immerse ourselves in the community and culture here in ways that keeping them to myself wouldn’t. Everything comes with frustration, at some level. We’ll settle in. And then it will be time again for something new.