Our "Gone" Anniversary: One Year of Living Aboard

A few weeks back on August 17th, we celebrated one year of cruising. This is the date, one year ago, when we left Niagara-On-The-Lake, Ontario and started our journey east and then south. It's funny to think that the oppressive heat wave we departed in, is now normal temperatures for us in Grenada.

Every anniversary bears some reflection. As I look back at the past year, our family has experienced significant change in every way we live. For our family of four, we live off the power of five solar panels, consume a total of about 25 litres of water a day, and eat more beans and rice than ever before.  We hold school in a variety of classroom configurations, and phys-ed and art can mean swimming to the beach and building a sand city. Going to work for me can mean figuring out the buses to find a good markets for shopping, preparing school lessons and marking schoolwork. For John, perhaps less change has occurred for him overall; house or boat, he continues to renovate and repair as he's done for decades!

Upon reflecting on our past year on Nahanni V, I felt a need to take stock of what I've learned since leaving home:

I like being warm

After leaving Halifax in December with 4 C temperatures and sailing in the cold North Atlantic, I have no desire to be cold again.  I prefer sweating to freezing, especially if I can jump over the side several times a day to cool off.  Multiple layers under foul weather gear holds no appeal for me anymore. I no longer like wearing shoes. I love wearing by bathing suit all day. I can't fathom wearing something made of fleece. (Of course, as I write these words, part of me screams, "But you love Canadian winters!" For now, I am packing that part of me up in the locker with my boots, toques and gloves.)

Homeschooling is not for wimps

I love that I see my kids everyday and that I get to be the imparter of knowledge to them. Every hour has a teachable moment, that is, if I have the energy or creativity to use the moment, and if my kids stop arguing for the moment to actually hear me.  I love witnessing those aha moments when they occur, that is, if I am not trying to figure out how to teach leaf and stem plots or get the dishes done. Balance is what it is all about and as long as everyone is learning, school rocks. (Unless of course, it is in the literal sense, and then we stop school or else we get seasick.)

Good friends are in every port

The sailing community is vast and we never know who we will meet. One afternoon on the beach can leave you feeling tingly that you have found a new friend who gets this sailing lifestyle and all that goes with it.  I learn something from everyone I meet and am blessed by new friends, even if they are sailing away the next day.






Wherever you go, you are there

I learned this lesson when I travelled in my 20's, but the lesson bears repeating. I used to think that just because I was in an exotic location, free from the stresses of home, I would always be happy. We have good days and bad days wherever we are. I can be grumpy in my Grimsby kitchen or lying on a Caribbean beach. (OK, that might be a stretch, but you get the point.) I recognize that I need to be mindful of what is happening around me and be grateful for all my points of sail.

My kids are amazing

OK, every parent thinks their kids are awesome, but mine really are. They are adaptable, flexible, funny and creative. They are great little sailors with an eagerness to explore and navigate their way out here. Oh yes, they drive me wild at times, but I admire both of them immensely: Simon for his ingenuity, his overflowing enthusiasm and his barely containable energy. Wavey for her intuitiveness, her quick wit and her curiosity about everything and everyone around her. Both kids complement each other and are great friends. It is fulfilling (and also a little scary) to see them venture off more independently now and put into practice things they have learned from us and the world. I can't believe we lucked out and have the privilege of parenting these two extraordinary children.

My partner in life and sailing is well...

I can't think of a single word to describe John. For over 17 years, we have refit boats and houses together, crossed oceans, worked and lived in close quarters, and planned this family sailing adventure. John is visionary, passionate, and quietly daring. He is also the most patient person I know (he lives with me after all.) He is resourceful and smart and I would not be on a boat anywhere without him.



Blogging is harder than I thought it would be
I love the idea of writing blogs as things happen; to share our experiences as they unfold. I have learned that for a blog to occur, I need discipline, time, and a good internet connection. Sadly, these three things align less often lately, despite my good intentions.





I have a lot more to learn

Despite our one year of family cruising (plus four years pre-kids), I still feel like a newbie. I do not feel that I have got this yet, and somehow, that's OK. Everyday on a sailboat is an adventure. We change and grow in ways we can't predict.





Gratitude comes in waves

We have a great deal to be grateful for. Full moons, sunsets, and pristine beaches. Dinghy engines that start, full propane tanks, and breezes through the cabin. After seeing the devastation caused by Hurricane Irma in so many places we hold dear, we are thankful to be safe and afloat.