While Holly was napping today Michael, Leah and I were enjoying the afternoon sun in the cockpit. Michael was spying around our anchorage here in Cadboro Bay with the binoculars. He stops his scanning suddenly in the far end of the bay.
“A playground!”
The dinghy is launched and when Holly is up a shoreside excursion commences.
The girls of s/v Wondertime rate Cadboro anchorage as one of the best ever.
Eric and Angela, s/v Rouser (Tenacatita)
When we were getting ready to set off cruising in 2002, we received an innocent email from a couple also gearing up to head south that year. The crew of s/v Rouser, Eric and Angela, lived south of us in Olympia (we were still in Seattle at the time), had just found our blog, and were excited to find another couple getting ready to set sail that was also well south of retirement age (27). Since we had never sailed to the south Puget Sound before, we took a week in late July that year to meander down that way and get a personal tour of the town of Olympia from our new friends. We hit it off right from the start and made plans to meet up again in San Francisco in a few weeks. Which we did: right after Michael and I passed under the Golden Gate, Eric and Angela zoomed out in their dinghy off Sausalito to greet us, having arrived the week before.
We sailed together for the most part of the next six months, exploring southern California and the Channel Islands, sailing across the US/Mexican border together, Baja California, crossing over to mainland Mexico to Puerto Vallarta, then down to our most southern anchorage of Tenacatita, where we stayed for a month in January-February 2003. I remember countless evenings spent with what soon felt like old friends: laughter and food and drinks, hikes, exploring small dusty Mexican towns, our New Years road trip inland to Guanajuato, bonfires and music on the beach, sailing side by side to a new destination.
And then, as it always does with while cruising, it came time to say farewell. Rouser was preparing to puddle jump to the Marquesas that spring and had decided to sail farther south to Zihuatanejo to depart from. We were heading north to spend spring in the Sea of Cortez. The day had come when we had to part ways.
It was a teary afternoon; we said our goodbyes quickly. We said we would keep in touch via email (which we did) and visit together in the future (which we have). Angela is from Minnesota so we gave them a copy of Lake Wobegon Days
Eric and Angela made it all the way to New Zealand, and we made it all the way back to Seattle. Our gift never made it to the top of Pelican’s mast for reasons I can’t recall now. But we’ve toted that bubble-wrapped light around with us for eight years, through another boat and two houses. Now on Wondertime we were hardly surprised to find out that she didn’t feature a nice tri-color light, but a burned-out rusty single anchor light at the top of her mast.
Now she does. Our beloved gifted tri-color light is sporting new high-efficiency LED bulbs up at the top of Wondertime’s mast. We now shine brightly in the night sky. Friendship made visible.
Can't lose this medical ID overboard
I wrote a guest post recently for Six Until Me and am totally honored that it was posted today. Kerri began her SUM blog over 5 years ago, writing about her life with type 1 diabetes which she was diagnosed with at six years old. Her blog is now the most widely read T1 blog ever, filled with years of laughs, tears, frustration and (yes) joy of blood sugars, insulin pumps, highs, lows, and giving birth to and being a mom to her first daughter. I have been able to relate to each and every word she has written as I too have been living with type 1 diabetes for nearly 25 years.
It’s not something I’ve written about on our little blog here, until now. Maybe it’s because I was diagnosed at 11 and I still have uncomfortable twinges of feeling “different” that haunted me those early years with diabetes as a teenager and tend to want to keep all this stuff to myself, hidden. But it’s such a big part of my life, maybe even the biggest reason why I choose to live this crazy life on the sea. I need to share these stories too.
Head over to Six Until Me to read about my invisible crewmember, now visible.
(And if you arrived here from SUM, welcome! I truly hope you enjoy our stories about our family’s life on the sea.)
Joy ride
In a few days, that counter you see on the right-hand side of our site, the one counting down the days until our cast-off from Olympia will be in the double digits. Which means only three months until we are outta here. Oh my.
This sends chills down my spine for two completely separate, distinct reasons. One, I am so freaking excited. I mean, New Years was practically yesterday and that was nearly three months ago. I have a sneaking suspicion that the next three crazy busy months will fly by even faster. Spring officially starts next week and will whiz by until Summer comes sneaking in and then we are off, off and away for two years of bliss and terror. We will at last be off cruising with our children, a dream that truly hatched the last time we were cruising in Mexico when we saw the joy older cruisers were having with their delightfully bright sailing kids. We are so so close and barring any major catastrophes (and it’s got to be a big one) we will be officially cruising in 106 days. Chills.
On the other hand: that leaves a mere 106 days left to get ready. Oh [insert favorite expletive here]. There’s quite a lot to do and my head swims with all that I must get done in the next months: passports, homeschooling materials, HAM radio license renewal, mailing address change, rigging splicing, another storage unit cleanout and move, first aid kit stocking, clearing out winter clothes and storing summer duds, sunscreen hoarding, car selling, on and on.
Michael has been steadily ticking away on the boat’s List, working on at least one thing daily. Our #1 must-dos are getting checked off one by one and we are truly at the point where we could leave now and get the rest of the items done underway (which is how I suspect a few will be completed anyhow). At this point, we have finally whittled down the big stuff: new lifelines=yes, new refrigerator=later, watermaker=much later. The dinghy we purchased for $400 on clearance at Costco (yes, Costco!) two years ago seems to be hanging in there just fine so it’s the one we are leaving with. We’ll keep the money to replace these items in our cruising kitty for now and replace them when a great deal appears in the future, or as needed.
Most days, I am so entrenched in the regular details of our life (laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, chauffeuring Leah to preschool) that I feel like it’s impossible that I’ll even make a dent in my list and I feel our departure date looming, instead of looking forward to it. But bit by bit it’s getting done. Each week I part with even more stuff that’s been hiding in our storage locker (we are whittling it down to fit in a 5×5 unit), getting things cleared out via ebay and Craigslist. I tuck away books for our endlessly curious students of the sea. I whip the end of a fraying sheet, hoping my fraying nerves will stay in check too. I try not to panic. I know the list will never be all done anyway. It never is, no matter what you’re doing in life.
Besides, I only have 106 more days to worry about “getting ready” anyway. After that, we’ll be cruising. Chills.
It’s happened before.
Late night stars, a handful of sailing friends, a few glasses of wine/margaritas/tequila shots/beers (although not all of these at once, of course). We talk and laugh and reminisce about past cruising memories. And then: plans are made.
One night way back in Mexico, late night plans developed in this way. During an evening of jovial fun, our fellow South Pacific-bound friends were trying their hardest to convince us to follow along in our Alberg 35, Pelican. We fought back with many excuses: we had only several months’ worth of funds left in our cruising kitty, our 30-year-old sails were on their last legs thanks to the Mexican sun, we didn’t have a liferaft. But then, as the night wore on, they began to win us over. Weakened with lukewarm but powerful margaritas made with Jumex and Jose Cuervo Especial we began to think that it might be a good idea. That we could indeed survive six months of crystal blue waters, white sand and palm trees. By the time we’d piled our drink glasses in the sink and got into our dinghy to putt back to Pelican for the night, we were headed for the South Pacific with the rest of the fleet.
And then we woke up the next morning. Bleary-eyed, with a pounding headache, we tried to remember what we’d promised the night before. We drank our tea in the morning sun looking out over the calm waters of Tenacatita Bay and knew that it just wasn’t going to happen. Someday. But not that year, despite how sure we were the night before of our upcoming South Pacific adventure. Some plans made in the night just do not last through to the next morning.
This past weekend, it happened again. Late night, a few beers, good friends. We were talking about our Northwest cruising plans for this summer. We had said that we really wanted to visit Princess Louisa again, if nothing else.
“Princess Louisa. Hmmm….” Our friend Karisa said. “But have you guys been to Blackfish Sound up north? That just blows Princess Louisa away. It’s beautiful and there’s hardly anyone there even mid-summer.” Yes, yes, that is true we agreed. We had been through there a handful of times, usually just quickly passing through. Nearby Kwatsi Bay had been one of our favorite anchorages ever. “And have you been on the West Coast of Vanvouver Island? It is just spectacular.” No, we had not. We’d explored the Northwest coast all the way up to Juneau, Alaska and back but not the West Coast of Vancouver Island.
“We’d like to do that, but we just aren’t sure we have enough time.” There we go making excuses again, to not complete one of our long-held cruising dreams.
“How much time do you have?” Karisa asks.
“About six weeks we figure.”
“Plenty of time,” she declares.
The conversation continues on into the night. We admit that we really don’t feel right leaving the Northwest without having circumnavigated Vancouver Island. The West coast of the island is desolate and achingly beautiful and rugged. And we do have plenty of time. And it would be a perfect shakedown cruise for Wondertime and her crew. It doesn’t take long before the decision is made: we’re going to go around Vancouver Island this summer.
The next morning we wake up (no headache this time, we’re not as young as we used to be and no tequila was consumed). Almost right away we talk again about our plans. Excited. We’re going around the island.
Because the plans that last until morning are the ones that are real. The ones that happen.
Look at that concentration! How can the fish say no to these cuties?
Early last Saturday morning we packed everyone up into our perpetually overloaded Subaru wagon and drove north to Seattle, the Northwest’s mecca of boating. “We’re having a field trip today, girls! Get ready for an exciting day at the Seattle Boat Show!” we announced.
“Boat show!” Holly repeated with 2-year-old glee.
“Ugh, the boat show?” Leah moaned, her 5-year-old self channeling her future teenager.
“Yes!” we replied in excitement. “It’s going to be really cool.”
“I don’t want to go to the boat show!” Leah replied. “How boring.”
“There will be fishing there!” I said trying to keep my happy voice on. Thankfully, the promise of spending time trying to hook a river trout in a big smelly tub of water was what did the trick. Leah was on board.
Arriving at the show around 11 am our first stop was, of course, the promised trout pond. The trout keepers must have made an error that morning though and fed the fish a hearty breakfast because after 20 minutes there was nary a bite among the hoards of children surrounding the “pond.” Thankfully, like most fishing fans, our girls were not disappointed and were satisfied with just the challenge of attempting to hook a real fish.
Our dream dinghy, found.
At noon, we filled the girls’ fists with goldfish crackers and string cheese and pointed the bright orange BOB stroller towards the actual marine gear. We admired many lovely things and left our drool marks on a number of dinghies and watermakers. We were particularly fond of the AB UltraLight aluminum bottom RIB; but priced at $3k a new one is definitely on our “dream” list.
After walking around the main floor for about an hour and a half we were ready to rest our legs and meandered over to the Red Stage where John Neal and Amanda Swan Neal were about to give their presentation “South Pacific: Seattle to New Zealand” which we thought could be fairly useful. We settled in the very back of the seminar hall and handed out more snacks to the girls. Of course, they were not hungry at all due to their steady stream of crackers and thought it would be fun to crawl across the freshly abandoned rows of chairs around us. By the fifth slide we started to notice that people were throwing looks in our direction and thought it best to move on.
We sought out the elevator and travelled upstairs, where we’d saved the very best stuff for last: the Real cruising gear. Captain’s Nautical Supply’s booth was the first to greet us and I enjoyed chatting with Janna Cawrse Esarey a bit. She and her husband had cruised Mexico the season after we did, continuing on to the South Pacific, then on to Hong Kong and she wrote an excellent book about it. Ironically, she and Graeme also returned from cruising to have two daughters now the exact same age as ours; they also plan on heading south again in another couple of years.
Our prized boat show purchase...red/white dual color LED bulbs!
We continued our stroll, admiring all of the shiny boat gear: electronics and watermaker and refrigeration systems. We found one of our favorite blogging authors, the hilarious Rich Boren of s/v Third Day at his Cruise RO Watermakers booth. We talked at length about all of the amazing times ahead cruising Mexico with our kids as he has done the past three years; Rich is as funny and friendly in person as in his blog. Next time we’ll have to ask him about his watermakers!
We then found ourselves staring dreamily at all the sparkly LED lights at the Fisheries Supply display. In chatting with one of the Fisheries reps, we discovered brand-new LED marine bulb technology: a replacement disc-type LED bulb that will fit in our existing fixtures that – wait for it – is both red AND white in the same bulb! When you first switch on the bulb it is red, but if you switch it off/on again within three seconds it is white. Very cool! We have been slowly replacing our incandescent bulbs in our old Seadog type fixures with LED bulbs as the power-hogging bulbs blow out. However, all our fixtures are only on/off without a red/white light feature that is so nice when sailing at night. Now with a replacement bulb under $20 we not only have a highly efficient LED light but it’s red and white to boot! We are so excited about this simple purchase that it made the whole show for us.
Lastly, we purchased discounted copies of Shawn and Heather’s stunning “Sea of Cortez” and “Pacific Mexico” guidebooks. Not only that, we got to meet these terrific cruisers and authors and have them sign our new books. Good travels ahead indeed!
All in all, I count this as one of our most exciting and fun field trips ever, and I think I can say that all the crew agrees. We looked at a ton of amazing gear and even brought home a little bit. Our favorite part of all: along with visiting loads of old boating friends, we met many new and interesting boat people at the show which is, after all, what makes this lifestyle the best.
Happy New Year from the crew of s/v Wondertime!
Michael and I woke up this New Year’s morning in our cozy bunk aboard Wondertime to bright winter sunshine streaming through the portholes. It was freezing cold outside our deep fluffy down comforter as we usually keep the heaters around 65°F as we sleep and it was a mere 18°F outside, but we had smiles on our faces anyway.
“We’re going cruising this year.” I told him with an excited grin.
“We sure are!” he replied.
I can’t remember ever waking up on a New Year’s morning with the distinct feeling that it was indeed a fresh, new year. With a sense of excitement and a butterfly in my belly at all that the year ahead held for us. Knowing that this is The Year we’ve been dreaming about for so long. And it’s arrived.
Almost eight years ago we unloaded our sweet Alberg 35 from the semi truck that had brought her back to Seattle from San Carlos after our year sailing to and around Mexico together. We hadn’t even got her back in the water and we knew that we absolutely had to get back out there again…someday. We figured another year or two of working and we’d have enough to spend another year cruising. Then Leah came along a few years later and we started making plans to leave when she was two, except that Holly was born that year. When Holly was three months old we decided that we’d leave when she was four…. But we couldn’t wait that long it turned out. We sold our house, bought Wondertime, and the decision was made to leave in two years, in 2011.
One year later we officially made Wondertime our home. Now, having lived onboard for nearly six months, we welcomed 2011 with joy aboard our cozy floating home. The girls drank sparking juice and Michael and I toasted with something a little kickier. It was a nice quiet New Year’s Eve at home with our small family.
And this morning we woke up to 2011, to six more months before we untie the docklines in Olympia for good, to sunshine, to a new year. To giddy excitement.
Although the sparkling cider we’d put out in the cockpit to chill last night is now frozen solid and the boat is nearly frozen into our slip, the clear blue sky we could see through the hatch above our bunk felt like Spring, even though it is still months away. We will have many more dark rainy days this season and there is still much work to do, but now our vision is no longer a dream. It’s our life.
May you also find your dream in 2011. And live it.
“Mom! Mom! Dad! Dad! Come quick! Hurry! Hurry!” We heard Leah exclaim from outside the boat on the dock where she had been laying quietly watching the water. She was squealing with excitement. “You have GOT to see this! Something is swimming under the boat with many legs!”
Now we were intrigued. We had got to see this.
We stepped onto the dock and peered under the boat. And indeed we saw the beautiful creature too, a translucent sea animal swimming, no, undulating peacefully through the murky marina water. It had countless soft spines, each with a dark brown tip that looked a little ominous. “Get the bucket!” our budding biologist commanded and Michael grabbed the white bucket that has now held many a sea creature. He gently scooped up the 6″ long animal with some sea water and set the bucket on the dock for all to view.
“What is it??” Leah asked us. We were certainly stumped. While we’ve had hundreds of jellyfish swim past our boat, thousands of teeny, tiny fish and there’s a handful of healthy sea anemones on our pier this fascinating animal was a mystery. It definitely seemed out of place and we wondered how it had gotten stuck in our marina.
We grabbed our Audubon Field Guide to North American Seashore Creatures and identified it as some type of nudibranch. None of the species in our book seemed to match, but a quick check on Google (oh how we are going to miss the internet when we are cruising!) identified it as a Giant Nudibranch. It turns out that these are quite a sight to see while diving in Puget Sound, especially if you get to view one feeding on an anemone; we felt very fortunate to get to watch one from our nice dry dock.
Leah just had to share her new discovery so she ran a few boats down and told the girls from Pearl what she had found. They were intrigued and came over for a look and were fascinated too. Turns out it was their first marina nudibranch sighting as well.
For a number of minutes the creature did not move at all, clearly terrified. You know, that playing dead trick. Then it must have realized it was not actually dead yet and started to swim around our bucket. We observed our unique visitor for another 10 minutes then gently set the creature back into the sea where it quickly undulated away. Leah was tearful but it was yet another chance for us to explain how we can look at the sea creatures we find for a short time but, no, they are not going to become our pets. They must be returned back to their home, the sea. She understood and was grateful, as were we, for the chance to have this beautiful creature visit us for a while.
Which just goes to show that if you lay on your stomach on the dock peering in to the depths of the sea for long enough you never know what will come swimming by.
One fine Saturday last April we packed up the Subaru with teddies and blankies and diapers and cookies and various other necessities and headed to St. Helens, Oregon where Wondertime was moored. We were spending our first night aboard. We aren’t going to leave the dock of course, but we did enjoy a lovely 75 degree Spring weekend on the Columbia River with Leah, 3, and Holly, 5 months, in tow.
Leah and Teddy, ready to board.
The girls are on deck...we (and our vast quantities of "gear") made it.
It's official, she's ours!
Wondertime is a custom 38' ketch designed by Jay Benford and built by Miller Marine on Bainbridge Island, WA. From what we can gather, her hull was laid up in 1978, she was launched in 1985, and finally finished in 1998. She is just the right size for us, has the perfect layout for four, and is in such excellent condition we couldn't pass her by.
The DVDs come out while mom and dad unpack and check things over.
Holly falls asleep right away. A good sign!
Little stars
This has little to do with staying on the boat, I just love this photo, taken while exploring the town of St. Helens, OR. You do know that 3-year olds are entirely responsible for dandelion repopulation? On an entirely different note, I had no idea we were in one of the towns the movie Twilight was filmed in until I saw a girl run excitedly down the street saying "OMG! Is there where so and so was chased down? OMG!" And here I was thinking we were just in a plain old small Oregon town when it was practically Hollywood.
A playground! All is well. This is likely the first of many playgrounds we will explore by sail.
Even Holly is having a good time.
Leah snug in her bunk (she finally fell asleep, um, 2 or 3 hours after this photo was taken).
Holly is asleep! Yay! (No, we didn't leave her to sleep there. That would not be an AAP approved sleeping venue). She did sleep with Sara in the double bunk, probably not an AAP approved sleeping situation either now that I think of it.
Breakfast-time. Yes, those are chocolate-chip cookies. We do what we can to keep everyone happy in times of potential chaos.
Do they make childproof locks for faucets?
A self-portrait. Ok, I wasn't really reading. I only had enough time to take this photo and suddenly naptime was over. But if I could, this is how I would have loved to spend my morning!
Holly napping (again!) in our bunk. This is going well!!
Leah reading under her rainbow-maker (i.e. deck prism).
So cute.
Ready to go home. Leah protested the whole way down the dock (I wanna stay on the booooaaaat!). Hooray!