Our Boat Interior: A Photo Tour

I love taking a look inside other people’s boats given the opportunity. Each one is so unique and I love to see the different ways people make their boat's their home. I think this desire to “look behind the curtain” is pretty common among boaters, as most sailors love a good peek 'down below'; there is always a new boat hack to be learned, interesting gadget to check out, and, lets face it, there’s something intriguing about seeing how folks make the most out of a tiny space. I always enjoy how people express themselves in the decor (or lack thereof) of their boat, and the stories their boats tell.

And so now I want to show you ours.

As our boat is not only a cruising boat, but our home, I have done my best to make it first and foremost, functional, but also comfortable and welcoming. I have written about the art of making a boat a home before, but times - and decor - have changed since then, so I thought I’d revisit. It's been a work in progress and I really love how she looks and works down below. As comfy as she is, her decor is also super functional...when we are sailing, everything stays put and we don't have to worry about projectiles and general mayhem down below. Living in this boat's belly is cozy and, despite being a pretty tight space for a family of five, enjoyable.

For more technical information about our boat like what make she is and why we bought her, please visit this page. But for the grand photo tour of how she looks today, stick with me.

Ready? Let's go...

We’ll start at the pointy end and work our way back...

Starting from up front, this is called the "v-berth" and is where the twins, Haven and Mira (Meer-ah) sleep. You can read more about how I designed our girls' sleeping arrangements here, but the twins really enjoy sleeping and playing up here. I wrote about decorating their room, specifically, here. I really, really love how it turned out. They seem to like it, too.

Here are some more pictures of their sleeping space. To the left (port side) is where both girls sleep, together. They have a few stuffed animals (including their beloved lovies) and snuggling blankets in there. It's roomy and cozy. On the right (starboard side), is a small gear hammock for their books and a few stuffed toys. The mirrored cabinets above this are where all of their clothes are stored. I have a portable changing pad that I put down in this space to change diapers as well. Who says you need a changing table?! 

Connected to the v-berth is an ensuite bathroom, or "head" as we boaters like to call it - which can be accessed from both the v-berth or the salon (there are two doors to it). It's small and simple, but it works and has plenty of storage for most of our medicines and spare toiletries. It is also where my most favorite quote in the world lives. If you don't know this quote, you should definitely read Desiderata. 

Moving aft of the v-berth is our main living space, often called the "salon" or "main cabin". I love how bright and airy it feels, something that's not always easy with a monohull where you are technically living "below ground". To the left are all our physical books which are mostly reference guides and children's books since Scott and I have e-readers. Underneath and behind all those white cushions you see is storage. Tons of storage. We keep food, beverages, spare parts and all sorts of stuff in those compartments. Also worth noting (because everyone who sees pics of our boat asks "How do you keep those cushions white with small kids!?!), the cushions are made of vinyl (starboard) and ultra-leather (port), meaning anything that gets on them - from markers to spaghetti sauce - wipes right off, piece of cake. Pretty clutch if you have small kids aboard. (Note: They are different materials because when we reconfigured the salon seating, ultra-suede was too expensive so we opted for vinyl).

Here are some more pictures of our salon. The picture on the left is looking aft (back) from the v-berth, the others show the salon from other angles. "A place for everything and everything in it's place" - that's my motto down below. Keeps life tidy and simple.

This is our kitchen or galley. The two rectangles you see are our fridge (left) and freezer (right). Since we eat vegetarian on our boat we don't use our freezer and it, too, has become more coveted storage space. The open cupboard to the right of the stove is a new pantry area we made by removing our old microwave that we used exactly never. So nice. Our boat does not lack storage, and we love her for that. Can you spot my trusty copy of The Boat Galley Cookbook? (wink)

Here are some other views of our galley. As much as I really hate cooking and everything related to it (provisioning, grocery shopping, food prep, meal planning, etc.) I do really love our galley. For being the size of a small hall closet, it's very functional and has a great layout with plenty of counter space.

This are is directly across from our galley and is our navigation station, "nav station" for short. Our SSB radio, VHF radio, FM radio, modem, inverter controls and battery monitor live here. As do all of the children's toys. What you see there is just about all of them, minus the craft stuff which lives in a cupboard. We keep the boat tidy and organized by keeping a policy of cleaning up after ourselves before moving on to the next toy. It works. Sometimes. Either way, the kids can keep themselves pretty well entertained for chunks of time in this area. The drawers to the left are huge and deep and we keep electronics in the top two, and the bottom is a huge file-like cabinet where we store our onions and potatoes. All our cupboards drawers and cabinets latch shut so the boat is more or less baby proof in this way, which is nice.

Moving aft beyond our companionway stairs is the walk-thru to the aft cabin. This is also where Isla sleeps, but each day we break down her bunk and stow it because this is also a high-traffic and very functional area as this is where Scott stores pretty much all his tools. You can see the mast steps Scott installed so Isla can climb up to her bunk in the picture on the right. The counter top of this area flips up to expose what has become our sort of "junk drawer". We store all sorts of things from battery chargers to simple everyday tools to charts in this area so we need access to it daily. The large opening doors you see on the port side are our engine room access. Plenty of space to do oil changes and work on our generator and engine. Big bonus.

Here's what the walk-thru looks like when it's all set up as Isla's little bunk bed. She loves it up there and the set up and break down takes all of three minutes.

Emerging through the walk-thru is our aft cabin, or the master suite where Scott and I sleep. Our bed is more or less king size and the fact that all sides but one are contained mean morning pile-ons with all the girls happen here...a lot. The large top drawer you see in the center is where all of Isla's clothes are. The bottom one is where our air conditioning unit lives. The mirrored side cabinets are more clothing storage.

More shots of our aft cabin.  The picture on the upper right is looking back to the walk thru from our bed, and the two bottom pictures show where Scott and I keep the bulk of our clothes (mine are kept in the cabinets pictured left, his in those pictured center - yes, I have more storage space than he does - but only slightly so!)

This is our aft head or "bathroom". It's pretty small and cramped and if I am to be honest it's my least favorite room on our boat, but it works. And, hey, it's a bathroom so big deal. We have a separate sit-down shower stall which we hardly ever use (we chose to shower off the back of our boat unless we are at a marina) and it works well enough when we need it. Not much more to say about this room. Lots more storage, blah blah blah.

And here is our cockpit where we spend a huge amount of our time. It's our front porch, back porch and living room all in one. Ours is pretty spacious, super comfortable and kind of perfect for little ones. We love it. The views are great. 

So there you have it, our boat from front to back. Hope you enjoyed this glimpse into our home!

Packing for a Family of Five? Our List

I love a good list. There was a time in my life where this sort of rigid organization was not necessary to move from A to B, but having kids threw all that out the window. Maybe unicorns exist and there are families with multiple children who do not need preparation of this magnitude in order to travel, but for us - this is the only way to maintain order - and sanity - during what can be a pretty stressful and hectic time: the pre-departure panic.

We decided to make sure we were fully packed two days before we left (this is the "packing dry run" I made reference to in my earlier post). If you are traveling with kids...heck, if you are traveling at all... I highly recommend this system. It allows you to pack, assess, weigh (all bags under 50 lbs), revise, repack and make sure you are a) maximizing luggage space and b) covering all of your bases. If you look at the list, you'll see we are almost all packed up - minus the few items that we need on a daily or nightly basis.  This means that tonight we can make merry at our family farewell dinner and tomorrow night we can kick back with a bottle of wine and a movie if we want. We are pretty much "okay to go". Siiigh.

I posted this list to our Facebook Page last night and I had to laugh at some of the responses. You don't miss a beat and really know how to make me laugh out loud (have I mentioned lately how much I love you guys?):

Minus the fact that Scott and I lay awake each night giggling like school kids and exclaiming, "Holy crap. This is happening. Are we insane?!" followed by pressure-releasing squeals into our pillows, stress is at a minimum. We're excited. We're ready. What cracks us up even more is that our kids, minus Isla of course, are completely oblivious to the gigantic change that is about to take place. It's all business as usual for them and as long as they have mommy and daddy, they're gonna be cool. We're just going to pick them up and move them to Tortola where they will simply carry on as normal. There is something profound in this but I can't put my finger on it. Kids, I tell you. We can learn a lot from 'em.

Now that the preparation frenzy has simmered down and we find ourselves with some time to think thoughts outside of those related to all things packing, we're beginning to feel the first pangs of pre-departure sadness. We have been here for over a year, we have created a lifetime of memories and have been surrounded by incredible friends and family.We are very blessed and we are hyper aware of - and grateful for - this fact. I am, by nature, a nostalgic person which means I am terrible at goodbyes. I hate leaving. I am emotional and get choked up by sentimental songs and Hallmark commercials. My best friend utters the words, "I'm really, really gonna miss you" and I burst into tears like a baby. I wish I was more stoic, but that card was left out of my deck I'm afraid. 

Despite the choked-back tears and the millions of unknowns that lie ahead, we know we are making the right move. If we didn't go we would regret it, and - really - that is the only fuel we need in order to move forward. 

“Perhaps that is where our choice lies -- in determining how we will meet the inevitable end of things, and how we will greet each new beginning.” ― Elana K. Arnold, Burning

This. Is. Happening. 

Bring it.

Monsoon on the Pontoon

Before...

The pontoon boat doesn't have the most, how shall I say, 'esteemed' reputation amongst it's fellow water-dwelling vessels.  They resemble tin cans, travel at a snail's pace and require almost zero skill to operate.  They are synonymous with lakeside indulgence, red necks and beer bellies but no matter what, an afternoon on a pontoon boat is sure to bring you some brat slinging, beer swilling, music thumping fun in the sun.  Enjoyable as they are, they are by no means considered "seaworthy" and never in a million years would I have guessed that I would experience my worst squall to date on one.  But that is exactly what happened this past weekend in Northern Michigan.  Guess there's a first for everything...

The day began with threats of storms and rain, but we decided to risk it and head out on the lake anyway.  The sun was starting to peek through the clouds, the air was warm and we all wanted to have fun together since it's not often we get to spend time with Scott's bro and sis and their respective families.  We decided on a little 'river tour' through the various lakes and rivers up here and off we went at a respectable five miles per hour.  We put-putted along; listening to music, entertaining the kiddos, snacking on junk food and, in general, just enjoying the peaceful scenery and good company around us.

Around 5pm the sky was looking pretty ominous.  So much so that Scott and his brother decided to check the radar of the area and see what was in store.  Apparently, there was a big red blob around our whole county with several thunderstorm warnings thrown in for good measure.  We decided to make our way home.  As we more or less drifted along the river, the sky grew darker still and lightning began striking around us, but despite this we all felt pretty confident that we could out run the worst of it (note: have Scott and I learned NOTHING?!?).  Just to be on the safe side we decided to prepare for a downpour, so Scott - being the experienced 'captain' among us - took the helm while the rest of us frantically started packing things away, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.  I believe we deserve a few points for our (vain) attempts to be prudent...

About 5:30 pm we were cruising along when all of a sudden Scott yelled, "Here it comes!!" and just as we looked up, a literal wall of white approached us.  I am talking a WALL OF WATER, people.  The likes of which I have only ever seen in a Caribbean squall and even then, only once.  Lots of screaming and scrambling ensued - there were four kids aboard that needed cover - and before we knew it: WHAM!  It hit us.  And it wasn't just water, but wind.  Lots of it (reports clocked the gusts in our area at 60 mph - the highest wind we have ever seen sailing is 39 knots, fyi).  Instantly we were drenched.  The rain was so dense and strong it looked like someone was taking a machine gun to the water around us.  Suddenly, a humongous gust raced down the river and broke our bimini (the only thing that offered a *little* protection from the elements) suddenly exposing all of us to the cold, driving rain which left us shaking like leaves.

I yelled to Scott (since yelling was the only way you could communicate over the ruckus) to make sure he was okay, he had his arm over his eyes and was struggling to keep the boat moving forward against the wind and rain, and confirmed he was fine.  Peering through the soaked towel that Isla and I were hiding under, I saw our life ring take air and fly away, then a pair of sandals, then a bucket.  The scene around us was utter mayhem, which was kind of hilarious because - again - we were in a pontoon boat.  Scott, realizing that forward momentum was both unsafe and futile, docked the boat along a riverside dock and we hunkered down to wait for the worst to pass.  I kept chucking to myself at how insane the whole scenario was.  I can't wait to sit around some yacht club somewhere with a bunch of sailors spinning yarns and recall "...that one time I went pontoon boating in Northern Michigan..." Good grief.

Eventually, it subsided.  The boat was FULL of water.  All of us - as well as our belongings - needed a complete ringing out.  We were all chattering cold, covered in goosebumps and looked like drowned rats.  This, of course, left only one thing to do which was to laugh.  REALLY hard.  Scott put the boat back in gear and we limped back home, in belly-holding hysterics the entire time.  We even got some cheers from shore-side folks who'd enjoyed the mayhem from their homes but really, only the other pontoon boaters will ever know what it was like out there.  Solidarity, people (tongue is in cheek here).

The lesson here:  don't ever try to outrun a monsoon on a pontoon, because it ain't gonna work.

...after.  It does the wrath no justice!

A Wooden Boat and a Renaissance Man

I saw the beautiful boat and assumed it was local, like some of the others I'd seen around the marina.  It was a classic Caribbean wooden sloop built in the traditional island way.  The mast was nothing more than a varnished timber, the paint job unique and the lines beautiful.  She stood out like a rose in a field of daisies.  Her name:  Summer Wind.  

I got to talking to some folks and discovered that it was not, in fact, just a local boat. "Have you seen the guy around with the dreadlocks?" I had. "Well, he's sailing that boat to Florida and there's a documentary being filmed about it".  Rad.  I immediately jotted in my brain:  Must. Meet. Mister Dreadlocks. right before I pulled Isla away from the pool's edge, where she was reaching for a floating leaf (what is it with this baby and leaves?).  The documentary, I learned, is called Vanishing Sail (check out the trailer!), and while it's not specifically about s/v Summer Wind, she will most likely make the final cut.

The captain of this beautiful boat is a guy named Denis and if you think we are cool, well - he is infinitely cooler.  He's got a "hippy" mentality and the looks to match.  He's had a long-time love affair with wooden boats and possesses a visceral passion for sailing in it's purest form.  He gives off that elusive "one with the sea" vibe and it is instantly obvious that he is very skilled and competent when it comes to all things boat.  He would probably despise being likened to a Jimmy Buffet song, but this is a guy who probably was born "two hundred years too late".  Fortunately, there is no such thing as "too late" for a guy like Denis, which is why he's launching his "renaissance" aboard a wooden boat that fate aligned him with.

His goal is to "pursue art, music, and consciousness through the ancient art of sailing" and he is calling this mission "Movement Sailing". He sums it up best on his Facebook page:

There are ... some of us that possess that same passion that our sailing ancestors did long ago, slowly nursing the dwindling flames of the sailors arts. There are those of us that see beyond the plastic vessels and price tags of luxury, using the new as a conduit to the old. This is the essence of Movement Sailing; Breathing creativity through the timeless imagery of our dearest mother, the Sea. 

He's an artist, a musician, photographer and (judging from the snippet above) a poet.  As I approached the sloop to take some pictures and talk with him, he was contentedly huddled over a pile of three strand line, most likely splicing, whipping or creating some undoubtedly awesome nautical craft.  He gave me a warm smile and invited me aboard.

There are simple boats, and then there are SIMPLE boats.  This boat is the latter.  When you go below, the sweet, musty smell of wood dances in your nose.  It's incredible, intoxicating and to a boat lover - is like nature's finest perfume.  There is literally no interior;  no berths, no galley, no head, no comfy settee, no book case, no pillows, nada.  In fact, when you go into the belly of this boat it's like being inside a whale; all you see are perfectly constructed ribs, and the sleek, simple construction of a classic Carricacou sloop.  There are a few floor boards to cover the bilge which is full of hunks of lead for ballast.  Actual hunks of lead that look like concrete blocks!  This boat is bad-arse.  While it does have an inboard diesel engine, "it's under pitched so really only useful for parking" he told me.  I liked that, parking.

"You should hear the sound she makes when she charges through the water," he told me, his eyes lighting up, "She rumbles and creates this amazing wave off her bow....I guess 'gnarly' is a good word to describe what it's like sailing her".  Before Denis was commissioned to bring her to Florida, she was - literally - bare bones and had no instruments, not even a compass.  "I watched wave patterns and the southern cross to get myself to St. Maarten" he told me.  This blew my mind.  Wave patterns?! Southern Cross?! Who to the what to the how now!?  "But I didn't want to sail any further like that" he laughed.  Once there, he got to work updating this sturdy girl.

While he prefers the simplicity of this beautiful, traditional sloop - he cannot deny that having a few gadgets aboard is wise.  So begins the love/hate relationship that is so common amongst purists.  He spent a lot of time meticulously designing her electronic suite for her owner and has equipped this basic beauty with a GPS with AIS (integrated with his iPad mini, which acts as a chart plotter), a Fusion stereo (also integrated to the iPad mini!), a compass and a couple DC/USB outlets.  There is also a windlass and some safety gear but, overall, this boat is staying true to her roots.  Denis, while enjoying this modernization, still wants to keep her traditional look so all of these systems are strategically hidden behind panels and out of the way so as to keep her aesthetics pure.  I can appreciate that.  Too many gadgets on a boat like that would be like seeing a satellite dish coming off a Masai hut (which, lets face it, probably exists).  In addition to these upgrades, he is also going to re-vamp the interior by making the living space a little more conducive to offshore sailing.  Right now, creating a quarter berth is top priority.  A place to sleep is kind of a big deal and, as it is, sleeping in the belly of that boat would leave you needing a chiropractor as a co-captain.

When that is complete, Denis will embark on his epic journey to Florida to deliver this proud vessel to her owner where they will go forth as a team.  She is a ship of dreams and this adventure  - this renaissance - has only just begun.

If you are interested, check out Denis's Movement Sailing Facebook Page (the incredible photography alone is worth it) and while you are at it, check out the page for Vanishing Sail as well.  Both are well worth a look and might just inspire the inner purist in you (For the record: I am not a purist.  Far from it.  But I appreciate them nonetheless!).

Boom Boat Name

We did a fun little project this weekend.  While it's pretty traditional to have a boat's name on the stern of a monohull , it's also nice to have the name somewhere on the side if possible since on a full-time cruising boat the stern is more often than not covered by the dinghy, hiding the name completely.  

Since we now have a roller furling main sail, our boom is the perfect blank canvas for such a thing.  After a little research, I found Captain John's Boat Lettering and created a set of heavy-duty vinyl stickers for it.  What's cool about this site is the name preview page where you can type in your boat's name in all sorts of fonts in all sorts of colors to see what it looks like.  Since I originally found the font we used for the stern (merlin) on this site, matching it was easy.

The application process is pretty simple and Captain John's provides great instructions. All you need are a pair of scissors, tape, a ruler and "application solution" (3-4 drops of dish soap mixed with 16 oz of water in a spray bottle).  Thirty minutes later we had our name on either side of the boom.  Looks pretty sharp, right?

First you clean the application area thoroughly (with acetone) and tape up name where you want it. 

Remove backing and spray "application fluid" liberally to stickers and surface

Smooth area with provided squeegee tool using significant pressure to remove any air bubbles 

Allow to dry for 10 minutes 

Peel off protective cover and let your name be known!

The Ft. Lauderdale International Boat Show

"Yeah, Joe?  Can you move a few million for me...there's a boat here I want to buy"...

If you are mega rich, it's only natural that you should own a mega yacht.  Yesterday, Scott, Isla and I took in the Ft. Lauderdale International Boat Show and holy MONEY...  Judging by this show I would say that life in the world of the filthy rich is...well, filthy rich.  I don't know about you, but I cannot even fathom having the kind of coin that would allow me to drop a cool six million on a boat.  Six million.  The expense doesn't stop there either - the yearly operating costs of these mega-yachts is enough to pull a small island nation out of poverty.  It's mind boggling.  Scott and I walked lazily along the docks (Isla was on my back) and were mesmerized by perfectly polished stainless steel, glossy hulls buffed to a mirror finish, and teak varnished to an impeccable lacquer.  Many a loafer was worn without socks and there was a lot of Louis Vuitton going on.  At one point as we were walking I stopped Scott's and said, "There are people actually shopping for boats here.  People are actually buying these boats!".  It's pretty hard to imagine.

What is also hard to imagine are the logistics required to pull a show like this off.  It is impressive.  Keep in mind, the average boat is probably - oh, I don't know - one hundred feet in length...and they pack these puppies in like sardines.  Like they're dinghies.  There must have been at least four hundred boats in an area that was smaller than a square mile.  BIG boats.  Some were no more than a foot or two apart.  They then brought in temporary floating docks to surround all these boats creating a veritable maze of opulence that was, admittedly, a little hard to navigate.

We had a great day wandering semi-aimlessly among the boats and imagining the lives of the people who were clearly shopping and not just ogling.  The tents that housed the vendors were interesting as well - particularly if you are in the market for a personal submarine, a jet-propelled water toy, and/or luxury bedding.  Unlike Strictly Sail , this show (obviously) caters more towards the mega yacht crowd and there's not much to offer the budget conscious cruiser.  Even so, we did manage to meet a few vendors and got some interesting contacts.  We even splurged and spent $60 bucks on new 16 piece set of Galleyware dishes while some other sucker out there spent $6 million on a mega yacht. Psh.

BIG thanks to our friend Dominik of UMT Marine for getting us tickets to the show! You're the best buddy!

Work Hard, Play Hard

It's been a busy couple of days here as we scramble to get the boat ready to launch.  As much as it pains me, Scott is pretty much a one man team while I stay back with Isla to make sure she gets all the attention she needs.  When you only have 2-3 hours of "wake time" in between "nap times" - there's little room for any significant boat work.  We were prepared for this.  Scott gets up early and heads to the boat, while Isla and I work on crawling, sitting up and eating organic veggies between slumbers.  Then we take a walk to meet daddy at the boat.  Pretty interesting stuff.   No, really, it is.  I can't wait to tell her she started crawling on astro-turf like carpeting of the Bali Hai Motel.

Anyway, yesterday was a productive day:  we decided where our new watermaker is going to go,  made our first (but certainly not last!) trip to West Marine, organized a meeting with the company who will create the vinyl lettering for our boat's name, lined up a few more big projects and installations, and Isla ate pureed carrots for the first time.  All of these indicate forward motion and forward means we're moving in the right direction!

When 4pm rolled around we decided it was time to call it a day so we headed to the beach and found a nice little bar to enjoy a couple happy-hour Coronas al fresco.  Turns out, Isla likes happy hour just as much as Scott and I do.  What fun is all work and no play anyway?

Love,
Brittany, Scott & Isla

Logistical Nightmare

"You do realize we are moving in a couple weeks, right?" Scott said to me yesterday as we were sitting in the kitchen, sipping on coffee and coconut water and working on really important things, like the re-design of this blog.  "I mean, we have nothing ready and a lot to do" he went on to say.  If I were an ostrich, I would have stuck my head in the sand right then and there.   You see, I have been riding in first class on the procrastination train for quite some time now and it's been pretty dang comfy.

I guess you could say we're a little overwhelmed.  We've been here before.  This time, though, the scenario is different.  We have a new boat, we have thirty-four boxes of our stuff being shipped from Trinidad to Ft. Lauderdale that we have to ensure gets to the boat somehow, we have an old boat we're in the process of selling, we have projects to coordinate on the new boat, and gear to order and install.  We have to change over our bank accounts because Chase is charging us up the wahzoo for foreign use, and Bank of America is fee-friendlier.  We have to pack up our life here in boxes and bags and figure out a cost-effective way to get it all down south.  Then, when we get to Ft. Lauderdale we have to find a cheap hotel to live in for a week or so while we install thru hulls for our new watermaker because the yard we are at does not allow live-aboards.  Once we've done that, we have to find a slip or marina* where we're going to live on the boat once we put her in the water for a yet-to-be-determined length of time while we finish up projects and installations to make Asante blue-water ready.  Oh, and we need to unpack all those damn boxes all while maintaining Isla's coveted nap schedule 'cause a baby's gotta sleep!

Did I mention we're up against a clock?  Scott has to report to Grenada for an eight week work rotation on s/v Diamant at the end of November.

Which leads us to our next round of logistics....

The way we see it we have two options.  One is that Scott assemble's a crew of buddies to sail Asante down to Grenada in "delivery mode" (i.e. non-stop, a 3 week trip) so that Isla and I can live aboard and see Scott once or twice a week.  This, however, means we don't have much time to get Asante ready.  The "Plan B" if we don't have enough time for "Plan A" is for me and Isla to be nomads.  We'll stay on the boat in Florida a couple weeks, rent a place in Grenada for a couple weeks, spend Christmas in Florida with my family for a couple weeks and come home for a couple weeks.  I prefer plan A.

Enter logistics round three...

Then there is the question of what happens after he completes his next work rotation which ends mid January if "Plan A" doesn't transpire.  Assuming we keep the boat in Florida, do we sail straight for the Caribbean and continue where we left off?  Or do we head over to the Bahamas and cruise those easy and familiar grounds for a while before making a bee-line for the windwards and leewards?  We just don't know.  Too many variables and unknowns at this point.  The whole thing reminds me of one of those choose your adventure type books.  "If you do x, go to page 18...if you do y, turn to page 24..."

Sigh.

See what we're dealing with over here?

None of this stuff is impossible, but it is a lot when all heaped together.  We'll figure it out.  We always do.  But at the moment, we're in the midst of a logistical nightmare and all I want to do is ignore it and see if it will magically work itself out.  Which I know it won't.  The Motivation Train, however, is right around the corner and there's a seat on board with my name on it!

Love,
Brittany, Scott & Isla

* Anyone down there in the Ft. Lauderdale area have/know of a slip we could use?  Know of any monthly-rate slips we could use?  This would be a huge help to us!  Email us at: windtraveler09 (at) gmail.com.

Our New Boat: A Brewer 44

We did it.  We pulled the trigger.  Scott and I are getting a new boat.  It was a LONG road to get to this point, the decision was not an easy one.  We went back and forth probably a million times.  In the end, however, we trust that this is what is best for our family.

Many of you suggested we keep Rasmus.  It seems you, like us, have a little emotional tie to our beautiful Rassy (okay, and some legitimate reasons as well).  Trust us, we get it.  We do.  However, our family is growing and Rasmus would have been very, very tight with the three of us and our respective gear.  Could we have made it work?  Of course we could have.  But the bottom line is this:  We were going to get a bigger no matter what.  It was simply a matter of time.  We found a great boat, in great shape, for a very good price (after negotiation) that would be perfect for our family.  After thinking long and hard we decided: why wait?

This boat, aside from the deck issue (which we are being compensated for after getting two quotes) is impeccable.  She is meticulously maintained (just how we like 'em!), and has just about everything we were looking for.  More space, two heads, cutter rig option, center cockpit, swim scoop, lots of deck space, low engine hours, decent canvas, and the ability to control all sails from the cockpit...in other words, the bones of a great family cruising boat.  She has a gorgeous interior with a nice, spacious layout, a U-shaped galley (something we really wanted), an aft suite with a king size bed, two heads and TONS of storage.  Did I mention how much we love her cockpit?  It is the very best feature of this boat because it is HUGE.  HUGE.  Perfect for entertaining and containing little rug rats.  We loved the Brewer 44 design from the minute we set foot on her and feel 100% confident that this is the boat for us.  In fact, she's kinda like Rasmus on steroids... Did I mention that the Brewer is considered one of the 10 Best Center Cockpit Cruising Boats?  No surprise why; they are strong, stout and fast.

There is so much more to tell you about the decision making process but I need to break it down into a few posts or else this one will go on forever.  I know many of you were rooting for Rasmus, and believe me we definitely considered going back to her.  We weighed all the pros and cons and looked at this from every angle.  The new boat won.  It was not easy.  In fact it was really, really hard.  Which makes the fact that this decision has been made all the better.  

Sigh.  Time for a new chapter to begin.

Hang on tight, and enjoy the ride!  We've got work to do!  If you want to check out some more pictures of our beauty, check out this post.