The Motherlode: Finding Balance Where There is None

It's 10:24 am and I have but one precious hour left of time before having to get the twins from their preschool. The minutes hang over my head serving as a constant reminder that I do not have enough time. I have a deadline to keep, I am writing about my trip to Nevis and going through hundreds of photos; editing and trying to organize my post so it's not too long, so that it stays interesting. This has been weighing on me for weeks, and I keep procrastinating. Must. Keep. Going. I have at least eight hours of stuff to do today, but they will not get done. I know this. And it adds to my frustration. Obligations, expectations, personal wishes, distractions, lists in my head, important decisions to make, a business to help run (but I don't because I leave that to Scott by default, causing him stress as well)... It's crazy hair day tomorrow and next week Isla needs to dress like she's one hundred years old. These sorts of things are icing on the cake that I do not want to eat. Do you know how hard it is for me to get out of the house with my kids by 8am!? And now I need to give her rainbow troll hair!!?? (Insert GIF of woman sliding down a wall slowly in exasperation) All of these things combine with about a million other tiny things - including my own personal struggles, wishes and desires (which get pushed to the side and ignored) - and chip away at my sanity, my peace. I freeze. I opt for an evening with friends drinking strong cocktails as opposed to tackling the contents of the overflowing cupboard or doing some much-needed yoga. I'm simply too tired. The devil in my mind shakes her head in disgust: "You are not enough."

Welcome to the motherlode.

***

I know I'm not alone. It's not a new concept; the mental load that a mother bears. It's well documented and every single woman who runs a household knows exactly what I am talking about. Lots of people see me and think that I have it pretty together. And sometimes, I do. But deep down, I'm just grabbing at straws like everyone else. Things that are currently bugging me (this just off the top of my head): my computer is a mess, files everywhere, 18K+ photos just floating around with zero organization, and in desperate need of a backup. Our lockers, cabinets and drawers? Dear GOD they are ALL overflowing and jammed shut. Hidden away. Is this a metaphor for my life? Tidy on the surface and a mess underneath? I ponder this question regularly. Our fridge needs cleaning and organizing, and speaking of the fridge, I really need to step up my cooking game because I'm failing there too. Must do more family dinners....I need purge some of our stuff; kids clothes, toys, extra markers and all. the. things. Living on a boat means it encloses around us much more quickly until I snap and just start grabbing stuff and throwing it in bags. Confession: I keep almost NONE of my kids art and crafts and when it comes home in their bags, more often than not it goes right to the trash. Am I the only one? TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE.

I want to take pictures of their creations and scribbles as keepsakes for them, maybe set up email addresses for them to act as a time capsule where I send them cute things about their lives and their days but FACT: I can't be bothered. Will I regret this? Thoughts like these keep me up at night. I yell at my kids too much and sometimes their attitudes make me see red. ACTUAL RED, people. Am I failing them? Kids are, after all, a mirror unto ourselves. Each day when they are mean or sassy or hurtful I think: "Did I do this to them?"...I spend too much, am careless with money, and have no idea how to do taxes or properly manage finances. I have approximately 4K emails in my windtraveler inbox, many of those from wonderful and loyal fans and followers who deserve a response, but I just can. not. do. it. I simply do not have the energy or the time to craft thousands of email. I have so much I want to say, want to write...but I'm blocked. I feel pulled a million directions and instead of it all lighting a fire under me to work work work and #getitdone, I freeze. Am I lazy? Am I a failure to launch? Am I living up to my potential? I don't like the answers I give myself. "You are not enough."

This is just the little mundane stuff. I won't even get into the fact that our livelihood and business still dangle precariously in front of us, our future almost totally uncertain. The next 18 months are critical. I push the thoughts out of my head...

And people wonder why I cannot sleep at night.

It's not one of my better traits, this tendency to stand like a deer in headlights in the face of a mountain of tasks. I get overwhelmed easily and my knee-jerk reaction - the carnal fight or flight instinct that evolution has fine tuned for us - is to run. I escape in many ways; some healthy (spending time with friends, talking, writing it out), others not so much (drinking in excess to distract, wasting precious hours on social media). But to tackle it is all too much. I want to take a photography course (my skills are so limited), get back into health and fitness (I'm a former marathon runner and medaled triathlete), I want to write at least once a week and resurrect this blog... I want to be a better mom, a better friend, better sister and daughter...I want to submit articles to magazines, maybe even start a novel and there are SO MANY books I am longing to read because one every couple weeks isn't enough.... These are just a sampling of a long list of wishes and desires I have but instead I let out a heavy sigh, lay down during my downtime hours and scroll on Facebook or find some other distraction. "Another day" I tell myself. My energy level is too low. My inspiration gone. I need more coffee... Which reminds me, I really need to drink more water.

On the flip side, I am also hyper aware that we are in an intense stage of life right now. Everyone tells me this and I get it. We are "in the trenches" as it were... We had three kids in less than two years (chaos is an understatement), are the parents of twins (well documented to add stress to a marriage), live on a sailboat (stressful) on an island where we are complete outsiders (and often made to feel unwelcome), and we run a (now fledgling) business. Our lives were completely overturned and future made uncertain by the largest recorded hurricane in Atlantic history, adding insult to injury. To steal a lyric from my favorite 80's rock ballad, we are "living in a powder keg." I still am looking for the spark. Maybe it will get my tush in gear?

We are lucky, I know that. I feel guilty for even winging about this because WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE? There are many people with real problems; terminal illness, family death, poverty, abuse...the list goes on. My litany of stresses and worries are of the first world variety and I know that (adding guilt to my self-deprecation list right now). I know that what matters most in life are people and our relationships with them. That our health is our wealth. We have three beautiful, healthy children and wonderful family and friends. We get to live in paradise, enjoy international travel and our lives are full of adventure. I am grateful for all these things, believe me. Will I be on my deathbed and wish I had written one more blog post? Most likely not. Will I sob at the mountain of email I never got back to or wish I had cooked more organic vegan dinners for my children or lament that my drawers were a mess? The dispatches I read of hospice nurses tell me unequivocally "no". I will wish for more time and maybe that I had spent mine wiser. I will think of my family and friends and hope I made a positive impact on their lives, in their worlds. I will lament hours wasted agonizing about things that don't matter, days like this. And this is what I think I need to keep focusing on. One foot in front of the other. Day by day. What is important right now is to make someone smile, help a friend, have a laugh, make a memory with my children... I remind myself that soon enough all three of our girls will be in school all day long and before I know it they will be grown and suddenly I will have many hours throughout the week. I will miss these days. I will look back and think how wonderful - maybe even how easy - it all was. And I will long to come back here.

But for now, it feels like the motherlode.

***

Yesterday, I bought three cans of colored hairspray for Isla's rainbow hair tomorrow. When I showed her she would be able to have the hair she wished for she jumped up and down with the biggest smile you could imagine, threw her arms around me and exclaimed, "Oh my gosh!! Thank you SO much mommy, you are the BEST! I am so excited!" In that little moment, I was winning, and everything else was just noise. This morning, I was more than enough. And that's good enough for now.

Newsflash: Our Kids are Not as Perfect as they Seem on Instagram

I had had it up to HERE with my kids. It was 4:30pm, I had played referee, broken up fights, dealt with unruly tantrums, yelled at the top of my lungs, cooked two dinners, cleaned the boat over and over and over again, picked up toys, broken up more fights... and I. Was. Done. I walked down the dock with two girls happily running ahead of me and one lagging behind and I had defeat written all over face and body. I was tired, I was angry, I desperately wanted a break... A nice man stopped to politely let Mira pass (the lagger behinder of our posse), at which point she scowled at him, planted her feet firmly on the pavement, crossed her arms and yelled, "NO!" Aren't they charming, I thought? I looked up to the sky in frustration. Why are my kids such jerks sometimes!?! Sigh. "I'm sorry," I told the gentleman wearily, "She is a stubborn little child." I stood, waiting for Mira and as the man passed me he said casually, "She doesn't seem stubborn on your blog..."

I wasn't quite sure how to take the comment as there was no follow up conversation after that, I believe more than anything it was an honest observation. But it got me to thinking, "She doesn't seem stubborn on my blog but...isn't it understood that my kids are ages four and two and, at the end of the day, normal kids with 'asshole tendencies'?" (Yes, I'm sorry to swear but toddlers definitely can have asshole tendencies and if yours do not, well...congratulations). After some thought I came to the conclusion that maybe based on our Facebook and Instagram accounts, our pretty pictures and sweet updates of our goings-ons, people really did think our life and kids are perfect and, well, I am here to tell you loud and clear: OUR LIFE AND KIDS ARE NOT PERFECT.

***

Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for our life and I love our kids more than I can possibly articulate, but should you ever meet them, you must remember that what I share in photos and blogs are snippets of time, and - yes - mostly happy times (of which there are many!) but do not expect them to be adorable little robot children who will run when you call and hug when you bend down to greet them. I mean, sometimes they do that, and sometimes they are absolute angels...but sometimes Haven will look you straight in the eye when you give her a friendly "Hello!" and say, "I. Don't. Like. You" with clipped, perfect articulation just to drive the point home. Sometimes Mira will stick her tongue out you as you wave to her and Isla might just have a little "diva" moment if you ask for a high-five. Believe me, we are working on squishing these bad habits (behavior charts for the win!) but in the meantime, understand that our girls are not always happy, smiling, perfect creatures doing adorable things in beautiful locations. PLEASE do not be fooled into thinking that our girls are any different than other kids simply because we live on a boat in the islands. For example, I have Googled the following over the last few weeks: "Am I screwing up my kids?" "Are my kids jerks?" "How to deal with a "spirited" child?" (Good LORD how do you deal with a spirited child!?!) "Do I yell too much?" and "Tactics of the Super Nanny" No real conclusions have been reached based on these rather futile searches, but what I did discover during these forays into the interwebs was a bunch of other moms on the same page as I; confused, a little lost and worrying that we might be dropping the ball.

But we are not dropping the ball, and I know that. We're doing a lot of stuff right and we're doing some stuff wrong. It's inevitable. This is parenting and nobody, NOBODY gets it right all the time. I have my mommy strengths; an extremely affectionate nature, very patient (to a point), and an instinctual aversion to helicoptering (to name a few)...and I have my parental weaknesses: a temper, a need to 'control', and an almost OCD-like need for order (kind of hard with three tots!). These traits (along with many more from both Scott and me) will play out in our children's lives in one way or another. Some will have positive consequences, some will have negative consequences some will just be. Our parents screwed things up, their parents screwed things up before them and our great-grandparents before that... the cycle goes back to the beginning of time. But with every generation, we learn, we tweak, we change tacks and do our best. We do our best. We have all turned out okay (well, most of us anyway) and our kids (most likely) will follow suit and do the same. They will not be perfect, but they will be okay.

***

Social media in a lot of ways is a wonderful thing; it's brought me a tremendous amount of satisfaction, joy, friendship and community to my life. But there is a yin to the yang and I think the one-sided nature of it is part of that. We share the prettiest pics, the happiest times and everyone's life looks pretty damn awesome. But the truth is, no one knows what is really going on behind the curtain and things are not always what they seem. We have our struggles just like anyone else. They might not be the same struggles you have, but there are bumps in the road none the less. Our marriage is far from perfect (have your read about the divorce rate for parents of twins? YIKES!), Scott has very little work/life balance, we run a business that is constantly eating away at family time (there's no such thing as time "off" when you own a biz), we live a very public life that can be open to scrutiny (both outspoken and covert) and we have three children ages four and under. Two of them are two year old twins. (It. Is. Intense). It's not easy and it is a lot of work. But along with all that are all the positives. We own our own business. We live on a gorgeous tropical island. We just bought a beautiful new boat. We have three healthy children who are the loves of our lives. We have wonderful friends. We have a loving family. We meet interesting people every single day. Our girls have a wonderful, adoring community around them. We spend 90% of our awake time outside, in nature. We have so, so, so much....We are very lucky. When I am sharing our happy moments, I am just that: Happy. I am grateful and it's my nature to see the positive in things in life rather than dwell on the negative. But there is negative, make no mistake. Just because you don't see it, does not mean it's absent.

***

So when you scroll through our blog and our Instagram account, or when you toggle through my Facebook posts, please remember: we might not be in the exact same boat, but in one way shape or form, we are all in the same boat, somehow, someway, it all evens out in the wash. Where you might thrive, I might struggle. Where I struggle you might thrive. And it might not be so obvious based on the tiny percentage of our life that I share. So if and when you meet our (adorable, spirited, slightly feral, strong-willed, beautiful, wild and precocious) little girls and they are less than charming to you, my sincerest apologies. And if you meet them and they are the wonderful little creatures I prefer to highlight and chronicle every day, know you caught us on a good day.

I Smell a Rat: Rodents and Boats Don't Mix

We have a rat on our boat. At least we think it's just one, I guess we can't really be sure. We've been told it's a "small" one, a "juvenile" to be exact. Not that this minor detail makes me sleep any better at night, because it does not. A rat is a rat in my book (I mean, the word itself is disgusting enough to make me gag), and in my boat - they are not only not welcome, but really, really bad news.

The first sign of trouble was when our lovely neighbor was packing up his boat to go home . "Hey there..." he seemed apprehensive and I got the sense bad news was coming. "I feel like I need to tell you..." he paused. "We have a rat or a mouse on board." He made a "sorry to be the bearer of bad news" face and I thanked him for the warning and bid him adieu. Rats are not an issue at this marina, there are marina cats everywhere and if a rat is found on a boat here - it's often brought from another place. Call me naive, but armed with this knowledge and a little of the "it won't happen to me" mentality, I didn't really consider his rat might become our rat. Unfortunately for us, that is precisely what happened.

***

For the record, I keep a very clean boat. All food is double bagged or in airtight containers. I wipe all counters with antibacterial surface spray multiple times a day. Floors are cleaned every couple days. I hand vacuum after every meal. I diffuse essential oil like a boss. Dishes are done immediately. No food is left out on counter. I have been told by more than a few people that I have OCD tendencies...Having three toddlers, however, means that no matter how hard I try to keep messes at bay, there's always a little morsel or two left up in the cockpit after any given outing. A nibble of cracker here, a piece of popcorn there... No doubt these little snacks are what lured our neighboring rat aboard, thus turning him into a resident. This is very, very bad for a plethora of reasons.

Not only do rats carry disease and are, in general, the physical manifestations of all things disgusting - they wreak a tremendous amount of havoc where they reside. They can destroy an astounding amount of property in a very short time. They have been known to critically damage infrastructure (by eating their way through integral pieces), sink boats (by chewing through essential hoses), and even start fires (by gnawing on wires, causing them to short). Yep. Despite what most people (who haven't had the pleasure of dealing with rats) think, a rodent's greatest weapon is not their significant 'ick factor', but their teeth. You see, one fun factoid about rats is that their beveled incisors, open-rooted and highly specialized for 'gnawing', never stop growing and in order to prevent themselves from getting 'long in the tooth' (literally), they must continuously chew and brux in order to keep their length at bay. What do they chew on you ask? Well, anything. Plastic hose, wire, and leather are all fair game. Just take a look at what our resident rat did to my favorite pair of (discontinued, formerly Grecian-style) sandals in a single evening:

This was literally my favorite pair of "fancy" sandals. Gone. This means war!

***

"I hear something," I whispered in a hushed tone to Scott. It was three a.m. and I was reading in bed, waving the white flat to my insomnia when I heard the distinct clicking sound of something chewing. "It's the ****ing rat!" I gasped as I grabbed his arm and finally shook him awake. "He's in our shoe cubby!" I said, laying completely still and horrified. This was the very first we'd heard of our rat. Sure, we'd seen signs. A few droppings under floorboards, a roll of paper towel with nibble marks and, the most peculiar, a half-eaten Mr. Clean magic eraser. All of these items lived at the bottom of the cupboard where we keep our garbage and it was, up until this moment, the only place we'd seen any real signs of a rat or mouse aboard. No indication whatsoever in our main living area, upper cabinetry or where we keep our food... a small relief for sure. After consideration, however, it's most unsettling because our rat resides out of sight in the under belly of our boat where pretty much all the important systems, hoses and wires that keep our boat working and floating *also* live. Suuuuper.

The next morning Scott emptied out our shoe cubby and we discovered that our rat does indeed love shoes. He ruined no fewer than four pairs. We cleaned out the locker, disinfected and Scott reconfigured our array of mouse traps because, prior to the shoe incident, we were pretty sure it was a mouse (which now seems so much less disgusting) and not a rat. I posted the shoe pic to our Facebook Page (to temper all the beautiful pictures of paradise I post!) and not only did our fans pretty much confirm the work was that of a rat, but that the traps we had set were not going to get him. Awesome.

Later that morning, I was walking down the dock with the girls, reeling from our morning of shoe destruction, when I noticed a man in dark shades walking down the dock with what appeared to be a rat trap in his had. Of course I stopped him. "Hi," I started, awkwardly. "Is that a rat trap you have?" I asked, hopeful. He looked at me, "Are you from the boat Asante?" He had the cool confidence of someone who eradicates vermin for a living. Confused, I replied that I was. "These are for you then, I hear you have a rat aboard. Bring me to the boat and let's see what we're dealing with."

I walked him down the dock, still confused at how he knew about our issue. "Did my husband call you?" I asked. "No, Brendan called me and told me to come down." Later that day I would see Brendan, the awesome marina manager here, and he would confirm that he saw my Facebook post and immediately called his guy to come help. I thanked him profusely, "It's what we do" he said with a smile (have I mentioned how much I love it here?) Anyway, I digress...

He came aboard, and after looking under a few floorboards and at some droppings gave his diagnosis: "You have a rat. But it's a small rat. A juvenile. And it's just one. Not a big problem..." he replaced a floorboard and started unwrapping the giant glue traps, "We will get him. We just need to be patient." I replied that I wasn't so sure how patient I could be, I mean - were my kids going to get diseased from this thing? "Only about one in a few hundred rats are actually diseased. If you get bit, that's bad - but as long as he's not in your food and contaminating what you eat...you're fine." He placed the glue traps strategically in a few areas we knew our rat had been, placed a glob of peanut butter in the big snap trap and stuck it in the bottom of garbage locker, aka "ground zero". He showed me how to work it, reminded me that it could break my finger, and said he'd check back in a few days.

That was a few days ago.

***

We still have not caught our rat. I've now moved from peanut butter to hard salami, which he appears to enjoy because he's been GETTING IT OUT OF THE TRAP. So I know he's still here despite the fact that I have not heard him or seen any signs of him since the shoe incident. But knowing he's here, living underneath us, and being all-too-aware of the damage that he is no doubt causing horrifies me. What if he chews through a thru-hull hose? What if he gnaws a hole in our propane line? So much about this keeps me awake at night. All the disinfecting of our bilge that has to happen, the fear of actually seeing him during my nightly bathroom break, the fact that we will probably be discovering his destruction for weeks and months to come...it. is. awful. The mind reels, and it's no fun.

But we'll get him, of that I am sure. If we could deal with (and successfully eradicate) cockroaches, we can deal with this stowaway. There's simply no other option.

Any ideas, tips and tricks are welcome! Stay tuned....

EDITOR'S NOTE: We caught him the night this posted. Blog post to come. Long story short: He is no longer of this world.

The kids thoroughly enjoy checking the traps.

The grab a flashlight and demand, "Mouse! Mouse!" because they want see it. #parentsoftheyear

There is Beauty in the Ordinary when You Carry it Within

As I prepare our girls for our move back to Tortola, my mind a frenetic ticker tape of thoughts, reminders, to-do's and lists, I also find myself reflecting on our time home and thinking of all the things I will miss. There seems to be this overriding thought in the cruising community that land life is sub-par in many ways; that it's predictable, mundane, lacks 'adventure'...etc. I've probably been guilty of perpetuating this idea as well and I'm sorry for that. I've even heard some cruisers say they'd "rather die than move back ashore", which strikes me as a tad dramatic. As someone who has had the luxury of being able to keep one foot in both worlds, I have a unique perspective and have learned that there is, indeed, beauty in both if you chose to see it that way.

Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to get back to our boat, it is what I prefer. I love living a 'life less ordinary' in a sailboat on the ocean and living in the sunshine amongst other cultures where the pace of life is slower. But I also understand that it's not the only way. I know for a fact some people couldn't be paid to live on a boat like we do, that many people really enjoy their 'ordinary' lives and the communities around them, and that many landlubbers might go positively mad living on 'island time'. A friend came over the other day and was so excited for us to head back to the boat. "It's great what you're doing!" she said. "It's such a better life!" she exclaimed. "You'll be so much happier!" she continued. It was obvious she had romanticized living aboard and, being the kind of person I am, I had to stop her and remind her that our life on the boat is far from perfect. "Oh, I know" she started, "But don't you think people here are just so...miserable?"

I didn't want to squash her obvious excitement or be rude, but I also had to be honest. "No" I answered. "I don't."

Because what I have learned after spending this past summer home is that 'ordinary' life is beautiful too. Sure, the scenery might not be as dynamic as that of a tropical paradise, but true beauty is so much more than a visual. It's making connections with like-minded moms who I meet during swim lessons, at the park, or in the library. It's seeing the excitement on our kids' faces as our neighborhood "big girls" come over, load our littles into the wagon, and take them all to the park trailed by giggles. It's old friends who, when they hear your kids don't have winter clothes, get together and collect some for you. It's packing a cooler of beer for an afternoon beach outing with family. It's spontaneous drinks with neighbors during a power outage. It's getting together with old girl friends and gabbing about life over wine and dinner. It's play dates with cousins who turn into best buddies. It's backyard bonfires with close friends and s'mores. It's rigging up a tire swing from the old black walnut tree. It's having a slumber party with your best friend of almost thirty years and laughing and crying about the craziness of life. It's a walk in a forest preserve to see the fall colors. It's skipping stones onto Lake Michigan. It's grandma and grandpa showing up every morning for coffee and playtime. It's the holiday traditions, village tree-lightings, toddler reading groups, summer concerts, and the birth of your dear friend's baby. It's about family and friends and fun and love. 

Right now, our life is taking us to the islands very much by choice. I do prefer to live somewhere warm and visually spectacular. I do prefer to avoid a Chicago winter at all costs. I do prefer to live on a boat as opposed to in a house. Believe me, there are absolutely elements of a suburban land life that are not for me, but there are elements of the island-hopping cruising lifestyle that aren't great as well. We make the beds we lie in and everything is a trade off. Community, friends, proximity to nature and honest relationships...these are the things that really matter to me, and as long as I can find them - I know I will be happy wherever I roam.

One things for sure, I will always, always enjoy coming home.

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not. 

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Expectations, Experience and Equipment: A Recipe for Successful Cruising?

A while back, I wrote a blog post about two separate boats whose cruising dreams came to an end for various reasons.  I received a comment on that post that rang so true to me and I have been ruminating about expanding on it ever since.  The commenter noted that the two misadventures I highlighted in my post could be attributed to three things:  expectations, experience and equipment.  While I don't know enough about the two boats and owners mentioned in my post to agree with him in regards to those situations, after much thought I absolutely do agree that those three "E's" - expectations, experience and equipment - are three key ingredients in the recipe for happy and successful cruising.

Expectations.
I have always said that realistic expectations are crucial to enjoying a life on the water.  If you think that sailing off into the sunset is going to be a magical cure-all for whatever ails you, well - you have another think coming.  Yes, it can be incredible, inspiring, beautiful, magical, eye-opening, empowering and wonderful.  But it's also very challenging and requires a lot of hard work and sacrifice.  It is not an "endless vacation" like so many perceive and it is certainly not easy.  People who sail off into the sunset unprepared for the stark realities of cruising often find themselves quickly disillusioned and lamenting out loud, "I had no idea it would be this hard!"  Realistic expectations are key to enjoying a life of cruising.  This is not to say that there is no place for positivity, because how you handle the ups and downs of cruising are also significant to success.  There is definitely something to be said for a "can-do" attitude and hoping for the best, but there is a difference between being positive and being completely naive.  Keep it real and you will enjoy the experience much more than if you idealize it.

Experience.
I have written before about what sort of experience I think is helpful for cruising, but there are plenty of folks who have cast off their dock lines with almost no knowledge of boating whatsoever.  Sailing is NOT rocket science.  We've met our fair share of folks on the water and some of these "cavalier" cruisers are incredibly impressive in their ability to learn on the fly and become excellent mariners while others have made us wonder how in the heck they are still afloat.  Then there are the truly experienced cruisers; circumnavigators, folks who've sailed oceans beyond oceans who will get struck by lightning, hit a reef or some other awful calamity.  No one is immune.  We all rely on a fair amount of good, old fashioned "luck" out on the water, but for it to be all you have on your side is not advisable.  While you certainly don't need spend gobs of money to complete every offshore sailing course, read a gazillion books on the subject of sailing and crew on every boat that crosses your path - a little know-how can go a long way.

That said, if you don't have much in the way of experience - I would recommend starting with baby steps...I have said many times that I think a large part of why Scott and I were successful in our transition from landlubbers to cruisers was because we allowed ourselves a very gentle learning curve (which I realize is an oxymoron when it comes to cruising) as we honed our skills.  Sure, we were experienced sailors beforehand, which helped a lot, but daysailing and racing are very, very different from live-aboard cruising and taking baby steps was really the biggest factor in making the transition smooth for us.  We left from our home port of Chicago, sailed the Great Lakes, traversed the ICW while also popping in and out to experience some Atlantic ocean sailing, cruised the Bahamas and every new "land fall" from there to Trinidad gave us opportunity to learn our boat, fine tune its systems and build on our skills at a comfortable pace.  Sure, there is something to be said for "just going for it" but when it comes to cruising, you will probably find you have a much more pleasant time starting small as opposed to trying to cross an ocean when you first head out.

Equipment.
Lin and Larry Pardey - two modern day cruising legends - have a very famous quote and give this advice to wannabe cruisers: "go small, go simple, go now."  While I do agree this is good instruction for some (but not all), I think it is often misconstrued.  I believe some read this quote and think it gives them license to buy the cheapest boat they can find (often ill-equipped for long-term cruising) and shove off.  Then the problems arise.  The engine fails constantly.  The sails tear beyond repair.  The halyards bust at the worst possible time.  Energy management is a constant problem.  The rigging gives way to the wind.  The electronics work only some of the time.  And then they learn the awful truth that fixing these things on a boat takes 2, 3, or 4 times longer than expected.  Sure, these things happen on even the most "prepared" cruising boats, but usually not all at once.

While there are some that truly enjoy cruising on spartan, simple boats with few to no integrated systems (other than the systems to make the boat move) - I don't believe the average person would enjoy living like Slocum or Moitessier (I certainly would not).  Scott and I are among the types of cruisers who believe that the more comfortable you are, the more pleasant the experience.  Yes, this does mean more money and more maintenance but it's a trade off that we are able and glad to make (having a very handy husband helps tremendously in this regard).  Of course this is our perspective;  like anything, what is "comfortable" to us might not be for you.  Our standards could be seen as downright basic and primitive to some, or maybe luxurious and unnecessary to others.  Everyone has different requirements.

We love our high output water maker and the ability to wash our boat or shower as regularly and freely as we please, we love having a cockpit mounted chart plotter with AIS overlay (although always carry paper charts as well), we love our sound system and the fact that all lines lead aft to our cockpit making our boat very, very easy to single-hand (a necessity if you sail with a baby on board unless you plan to take on extra crew all the time).   Our windlass has made life so much easier and we sure do enjoy the benefits of being able to re-locate without having to haul up over 300lbs of ground tackle manually.  We love our water toys and our RIB dinghy with powerful outboard.  We personally love our generator and the ability to make a bunch of power on the days our solar panels can't keep up.  None of these things fit the bill as "simple" - and many, many boats happily cruise without this stuff - but we'd be hard pressed to do without them.  To us, comfort is synonymous with happiness when it comes to cruising and sometimes that means having equipment.  It may or may not be the same for you.

Budget, of course, might dictate that you can have only a couple or maybe even none of the above systems/gadgets or toys - and that is okay too.  There are many ways to make your boat "comfortable" without having to spend a ton of money on fancy equipment and "bonus" gadgets.  But making sure the equipment you do have (sails, running and standing rigging, plumbing, wiring, engine, ground tackle etc.) are functioning properly and viable before you head out is key.  It is inevitable that things will break down so having the adequate spares for those systems (more equipment) and the manuals or know-how to fix them on the fly is also important. A big component of successful long-term cruising - in my opinion - is preparation.  Ya gotta have equipment, baby.

So there it is...

There's a business saying that clients can have something good, fast, or cheap.  They can choose two, but can't have all three.  You can have quality and speed, but it will not be cheap.  You can have fast and cheap, but the quality will be lacking.  You can have cheap and good, but it will not be done fast.  You get the picture.  I believe this can apply to other areas of life as well - including cruising - and perhaps the three "E's" fit into this somewhere.  Life is all about balance.  Perhaps if you have two of the three E's you'll be gravy, but if all three are lacking - you will suffer?  I don't have the answers but what I do know is that in order to follow and live your dreams, there has to be a little give and a little take.

Thoughts?  What would be your recipe for happy cruising? Can you boil it down to a few key attributes or is it more complex?

Yes, I live in Paradise and Sometimes I want to Complain

Cry me a river, why dontcha?

Bust out your teeny-tiny violins folks (or ukeleles if you've got 'em), because you're about to play 'em for me...you can also feel free to file this post in the cabinet labeled "first world problems".  You've been forewarned.

You know what really bugs me?  The fact that, because my husband and I live on a boat in the Caribbean, I have no right to complain about anything.  Because, obviously, our life is "perfect" and because of where our GPS coordinates place us on the map, we are allowed to be nothing more than grateful for the sweltering heat, torrential downpours, our ever growing project list and any other slice of life pie that doesn't sit right in our bellies at any given moment.  I mean, how dare we complain about these things, right?  We're living a life that most people dream of!

When I say that it's hot, I get emails and comments saying, "Well, it's certainly better than shoveling snow!" or if I mention I've been busy, I get a snarky "please" from someone who is (obviously) busier than I, or... when I complain we have a lot to fix, I get "well at least you have a boat to fix!"  I'm all for looking on the bright side (I mean, have you read my blog?) but sometimes, the dark side wins and a grievance slips out.  Once, when I lamented in a tiny Facebook update about the non-stop rainy and stormy weather in the BVI's, one follower called me "spoiled".  Whatever, I get it: we put our story out there for all to see and this gives people the right to talk back.  This goes with the territory of having a blog with a large audience.  People think our life is a dream and we should be nothing but appreciative for it.  Every. Single. Second.  After all, they are the ones who sit in traffic every morning, drinking stale coffee and commuting to the job they despise.   They are the ones who actually suffer (suffer being a very relative term here).  People like us?  We just sit around, twiddling our thumbs and wonder what tropical slushy rum drink to order next while we hang out in beach bars yucking it up with colorful folks like Jimmy Buffett.

Um...not so much.

First of all, I would like you all to know that just because we live on a boat in the Caribbean does NOT mean our life is "perfect."  Okay, so our backdrop might be a little more dynamic and dramatic than the average midwestern suburb, but that doesn't mean it's always beautiful.  Sometimes, islands are a mess... garbage is everywhere, heartbreakingly scrawny stray dogs play in the gutters, and buildings are anything but "quaint".  We've visited places where we wouldn't even jump in the water.  And, despite what it might seem in the brochures, not every local is welcoming us with open arms and big toothy grins.  Some are mean, rude, and don't enjoy our presence.  This is still real life down here, complete with good, bad and ugly influences.  People imagine that our life is one huge extension of their last all-inclusive vacation in St. Whatever-it-was.  Negative, Ghost Rider...  Rarely, if ever, are we in the manicured areas of the resorts.  Rarely, if ever, do we eat at the five-star buffets offered to week-at-a-time tourists.  We take public transportation, not just for a "thrill" or an "experience", but because we have to.  We eat at local places not just to be "adventurous" but because that's what makes sense for our budget.   I'm not complaining, it's just how it is.  We actually prefer it this way.  But I promise you,  not all of you would enjoy this view.  Travel the way we do it is an acquired taste, it's polarizing and not for everyone.  Sometimes, it's not even for us.  Sometimes, it sucks.  Sometime, (GASP!) it's boring.

The majority of our days are not spent lounging under waving palm fronds listening to waves lap up against the shore.  Despite what you might think, we work and those days spent hanging on the beach drinking cocktails are the exception, not the norm.  I spend a terrific amount of time on our blog and sponsorships and Scott is the relief captain for Island Windjammers.  "But your husband only works for one month every three" you say, rolling your eyes at the ease of this schedule.  This is true, but the reason this works for us is because we probably SPEND A LOT LESS THAN YOU.  We don't have cars, we don't have mortgages, we don't buy fancy clothes and shoes, we don't have school loans, we don't pay for daycare, our social calendar is collecting dust, we have hardly any bills, we don't pay nearly as much for gas and utilities...the list goes on.  We don't NEED to work as much because we live on a boat and have chosen to live with a little less than most of our landlubbing peers.  This was all part of our plan because to have me "stay at home" with Isla and not have to work was a priority for us.  What's more, when the "paid" work is finished, the unpaid work begins.  We maintain our boat almost exclusively by ourselves and this is no walk in the park.  Ever take apart a toilet and get human excrement on you?  If you sign up for this life, I assure you - this is in your future.  And that's not even the hard work.  Get excited, people.

The truth of the matter is, while many of you look at full-time cruisers and think "How nice! I wish I could live like that," I'd be willing to bet that only a very small percentage of you would actually WANT to live on a boat full-time when push came to shove.  In fact, I'd be willing to bet that after a few weeks of living on a boat as we do; dealing with the never-ending upkeep, living in cramped quarters, sailing in nasty weather, struggling to get the lay of the land, sweating your ass off in some dingy harbor, constantly dealing with broken systems and the fact that even the most menial chores take two or three times longer than they do on land - I probably couldn't pay some of you to live on a boat.  It is hard work and, while we might make it look easy, believe me - it is not.  Life on land is much, much easier.  I'm not trying to dissuade anyone, because most people who are gearing up to cruise full-time already know all this (at least, I hope they do) but - as incredible as this life is (and, yes, it is incredible) - it has its...moments.

We have our issues, just like you.  We have our bad days, just like you.  We have moments where we wonder why we're doing this, and some days we even wish we lived a "normal" life on land.  It's far from perfect, but it's our life and, for now, it's the life we want to lead because the positives outweigh the negatives for us.  But no life and certainly no person is "perfect" and this is important to be mindful of.  "If it looks too good to be true, it probably is".  I think it's crucial not to idealize full-time cruising because you are in for one hell of a shock if you are expecting your life to mimic a Jimmy Buffet album.  It's like that only some of the time...like, maybe 2%.  If you are childless, you might be able to eek it up to around 8 or 10%. Maybe.

So excuse me if I want to complain about the weather/my boat/my hair/cooking...etc. from time to time, but I'm only human.  And yes, I live in paradise.  But you know what?  I am still waiting for the day when I can waste away in Margaritaville.  So, how 'bout you play that tune for me on that teeny-tiny violin you're holding?  Thanks.