Our New Boat, Sonder, is Homeward Bound: How Hurricane Irma Took but also Gave

I got little choked up as I re-read Scott's last "I love you message" as he sailed out of cell reach this morning.  The culmination of six months of shock, anguish, gratitude, uncertainty, stress, exciting new beginnings and heart breaking disappointments suddenly bubbled up as it dawned on me that - finally - things are starting to come together. Part of the emotion, of course, is also a healthy dose of anxiety around the fact that Scott will be largely out of communication for the next ten days as he sails our new home offshore with his trusty crew of two. I will be getting daily "we are okay" or "send help" messages that will come through our basic but effective satellite communication system on board, but not much more than that. Long time readers know I am, and have always been, a professional worrier when it comes to boating. The trepidation is compounded after having been affected so completely by Hurricane Irma; we are now closely associated with loss and intimately aware of how quickly things can change. I'm trying to push those thoughts out of my head and keep a positive outlook, but I'd like the next ten days to hurry up and be here.

***

Anxiety aside, my heightened emotional state was also out of sheer joy that finally we will have our very own home again and, after spending almost half of the last six months apart, ours will be a (more consistently) two-parent family. While I am very accustomed to solo parenting our three girls, it's not always easy and sometimes can get downright ugly (ask me about how many balls I drop on a daily basis). Daddy being a regular presence and influence around here will be SO welcome. The fact that Scott is also sailing our dream boat (and home) back to us is also quite incredible and surreal. Scott and I have been dreaming of owning a Hallberg-Rassy 46 since we owned our very first Hallberg-Rassy, Rasmus. The other week, in fact, a blog follower wrote me with the screenshot of a three year old Facebook post in which I had posted a picture of a Hallberg-Rassy 46 and wrote, "One day we *will* have this boat". I have no recollection of putting it out there like that, but I did, and if that isn't a point for how the Universe works and manifestation, I don't know what is. 

The truth is, for as much as Hurricane Irma took from us and all the stress she bestowed on our family, she gave us so much as well. Not only do we now own the boat of our dreams - an ironic turn of events that is not lost on us - but we have made some truly incredible new friendships that began and grew because of the storm. We are under contract on a new boat better suited for our daysail company, and every single day I am so grateful that we are able to live on the island we love, slowly putting the pieces of our life and business back together with some amazing people in our corner. People hear our story and often express sorrow for us. I am the first one to say, "NO! Please do not!" While obviously we'd have preferred Irma to have not upturned our life and those of so many others, we are some of the really, really lucky ones. We had insurance for both our home boat and business boats, we were paid our claims in full, we had a nice chunk of money saved in the bank, did not have to endure the horror of a Cat 5 hurricane with our kids, and we had the open arms and incredible generosity of friends and family to fall back on when we were lost...we were and are FINE. There are others who were - and continue to be - way worse off. Our hearts go out to those people who continue to suffer and who's lives have been changed irrevocably. We are not those people. We took a hit, for sure, and our path and inner-selves are forever altered by the events of the 2017 hurricane season, but we are back and - ultimately - stronger for it. Irma, it seems, might just have changed us and our lives for the better...

***

Our new boat, after much research and deliberation, has been named Sonder; the suggestion of my good friend Christel from Stell and Snuggs (the merry family of roving sailboat musicians). We loved it immediately. Our criteria was 1) one word 2) easy to read and pronounce 3) unique and 4) a great meaning behind it. Sonder is a sort-of made up word from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows (fascinating and worth a gander) and means:

Sonder: n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

In short, the word means everyone has a story. As both a writer who loves stories and someone who, particularly after Irma, is hyper aware of the fact that we all walk around with a well of stories and scars within us that are not apparent to the naked eye - it just made sense. So s/v Sonder she is.

This story is ours, and today marks the start of a brand new chapter. s/v Sonder is finally homeward bound, and we are so excited for what lies ahead.

The Annapolis Boat Show: A Salve to My Soul

I am currently coming down from the high that was the Annapolis Boat Show. To think I almost didn't go...it blows my mind because, for me, it was more than a boat show; it was a cathartic salve to my soul. It was long embraces from friends, tears shed with longtime blog followers, and deep belly laughs over too much tequila with my sailing brothers and sisters. It was meeting online pals in real life for the first time, being stopped when walking from A to B  by blog followers just wanting to say hi and express support and it was raising money and awareness for our beloved British Virgin Islands...The Annapolis Boat Show was so very much to me but more than anything it was a reminder of one of the main reason's we love being sailors and living aboard: the community.

***

Going to the boat show was not even on my radar. A few weeks ago, however, I got a message with the generous offer to stay at the home of some friends of friends, free of charge. They had extended the invitation to a few other folks in the form of a group message, mostly bloggers and vloggers (all of whom are dear friends, Tasha from Turf to Surf and Cat and Will from Monday Never to name a few) and finished the note with "It will be great to get you all together." I agreed. It was uncertain how Scott and I could make this happen (child care for three littles is not easy, thank you to Scott's mom for saving the day!), but, due to a nagging gut feeling of "needing" to go, we did make it happen and the weekend was marked on our calendar.

As often happens with plans in the sailing world, things changed and less than a week before we were to fly to Baltimore, our friends at Nanny Cay found our boat at the bottom of the marina. A tailspin of sadness and heartbreak washed over us as we saw the pictures of Legato being hauled from the sea, and despite knowing her fate, the pictures were salt on our very raw wounds. "I need to go to Tortola" Scott solemnly told me two days before the show. "I have to go down and see it all and try to figure out how to get our life back on track." And with that, it was decided that he would go to Tortola, and I would go to Annapolis by myself.

We had been housing Puerto Rican evacuee-turned-friend Diana Margarita since Hurricane Maria, she and I met online immediately after Irma and had been coordinating relief efforts together. In an incredible and very serendipitous turn of events, she not only became our roommate here in Chicago after being evacuated pre-Maria, but also became the Executive Director of the relief group Sailors Helping. As such, she had a very relevant place at the show. We traveled together, two hurricane displaced and emotionally drained island girls, and we emerged from the show buoyed by the love and support of our community.

***

There was much work to do at the show and it started almost immediately upon landing. I had over 400 t-shirts to sell and when I saw the multitude of boxes my heart sank, "How on earth will I sell all these?" I thought to myself. It seemed impossible. Luckily I had some friends and volunteers help me out, not the least of which is one of my most favorite longtime sailing/blogger friends Tasha, from Turf to Surf and Chase the Story. Together we were a dynamic duo, and with the help of my neighbor Claudia and her family, as well as the awesome duo behind Sailing Lunasea and Diana of Sailors Helping, we sold out of everything in under four days. I could not believe it. Humongous thanks to our good friends Mia and Andy from 59 North Sailing for letting us squat in their booth when the BVI Tourism Board was unable to accommodate us (apparently it did not have a 'sell' license). Our booth was "the" booth and was always hopping', the love for the BVI is legit!

I was also invited to speak on a Cruising World Magazine panel geared toward boats heading south and what was to be expected. My Puerto Rican friend Diana was on the panel with me, as well as fellow boat mama, circumnavigator and longtime online friend, Behan Gifford of Sailing Totem. Meeting her was amazing. We squealed, embraced, and both shed a few tears out of sheer joy of finally meeting in person, as well as some tears in solidarity. As a fellow boat mom and live-aboard, she completely empathized with our situation. The panel was a great success and the message was clear: the islands will prevail! "Our beaches are still golden, our water still blue, and our drinks are still cold!" The subject matter requires a separate blog post, which will come, but all in all, it was a great discussion and another chance to share the stage with and meet some amazing people.

After being on our feet and talking all day (I have a whole new respect for anyone that does trade shows like this for a living!) we'd retire as a group to the "Casa de Bach" where we ate, drank, and talked about everything under the sun while being surrounded by like-minded sea-gypsy souls. I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to be sitting on a porch enveloped by people who "get" you; people with whom you already share so much in common that friendship happens instantly. We all stayed up way too late, drank way too much, but the laughter - oh the laughter! - it was so, so good for my soul. I am smiling ear to ear thinking about it.

***

By the weekend's end, I'd lost my voice, was completely exhausted and felt like my legs had run a marathon, but what was depleted from me physically during my four frenetic days in Annapolis, was replaced ten-fold emotionally. I was as high as a kite leaving that place... Hopped up on joy. Walking on sunshine. On cloud nine.... Bonds were deepened, new friendships forged, and I was again reminded that if we have good people around us to make us laugh, hold us tight and empathize with our hurt, we have everything we need to move forward.

Community by definition is: a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals, and Annapolis showed me that we not only have this, but we have it in spades.

*

Thank you again Jeff and Cam for forcing me out of my comfort zone and bubble of post-Irma-ness (for lack of a better word) - and opening your home so generously to me and all the others. We love you both so much! Your kindness and generosity will never be forgotten!

If you like the shirts and hats you see in these photos, PLEASE BUY SOME! 

All proceeds go to the VISAR BVI Relief Fund. Thank you so much.

We are also still accepting donations for our BVI relief efforts HERE. 

Help us reach our goal of $200K!

Diana and I working the Virgin Unite Fundraiser party on our first night.

These two. Seeing them was SO emotional. They are our neighbors at Nanny Cay. Here they are, working to rebuild our amazing Nanny Cay community from afar...they are back on the ground now and we cannot wait to see them soon!

The sailing badass Andy Schell of the 59 North Podcast. Not only a super nice guy, but a super accomplished sailor. His wife  Mia is equally bad ass.

C is for Community! Mia Karlsson of 59 North Sailing (love her!), and Nanny Cay neighbors Claudia, Ted and Anne.

My partner in crime in all things. Tasha from Turf to Surf. An amazing human and friend.

REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD! Terysa and Nick of Sailing Yacht Ruby Rose.

Party people. We work hard, we play hard. Tasha of Turf to Surf, Will from Monday Never, and Me.

LOVE THESE TWO. Seriously meeting them was a highlight. Jennifer and Mark of Sailing Lunasea.

How long have I known Carolyn Sherlock from The Boat Galley? A long time. She replaced my sunken copy of her amazng cookbook for free. Because she's amazing like that. Love her.

I love these two. Cat from Monday Never, Terysa from Ruby Rose, and me.

Old friends Paul and Sheryl Shard of the television show Distant Shores

After hours shenanigans. The shenanigan game was strong with this posse. Megan from Missing Vissers was another highlight new friend.

So. Much. Laughing.

Bad-ass boat girls who pretty much make my world a better place. I love them all.

My partner in crime, Tasha, at the end of the show. Photo courtesy of the Annapolis Boat Show.

A Special Day in Trellis Bay: An Artist Community and A Magic Morning

We don't get to East End, home of the eccentric and eclectic Trellis Bay, often. For one thing, it's quite a drive - which I realize is laughable on an island that measures twelve miles by three - but as the car drives, it's a solid 30-40 minutes one way. With three little kids, and a mid-day nap that I will only forego for extremely special occasions - it's hard to justify an hour or more commute for an hour or two of fun. But when our friend, Cem (pronounced "Jem", like the jewel) invited us to see a special artist friend of his, I thought, "Why not!"

The North Swell Rolls in, and I am Grateful

“The waves broke and spread their waters swiftly over the shore. One after another they massed themselves and fell; the spray tossed itself back with the energy of their fall. The waves were steeped deep-blue save for a pattern of diamond-pointed light on their backs which rippled as the backs of great horses ripple with muscles as they move. The waves fell; withdrew and fell again, like the thud of a great beast stamping.” 

―Virginia Woolf, The Waves

Tortola is known more for sailing than surfing... for the most part the trade winds blow out of the east, our waters are (fairly) protected by an archipelago of beautiful islands, and waves on the north shore are mediocre at best most of the time. It's why our beaches are so popular and perfect; they are calm and serene... perfect for swimming and lounging. Great for kids to play and splash. Perfect for paddle boarding and just kicking back... Until a north swell, rolls in, that is. Then Tortola becomes a surfers paradise and people come from around the world to surf here. When I asked my friend Aaron (a big wave surfer who live's on Hawaii's North Shore), if it really got that good here he replied, "Oh Brittany ... when it goes off - it goes OFF. It's a world-class wave".

So when there was talk that a North swell would be rolling in (they always know when it's coming due to weather patterns up north) - the biggest in eight years - I started getting excited. Partly because it's something different (yay, waves!), and partly because I am both in love with and awed by the power of the ocean (remember my review of The Wave?). If you have never had the pleasure of standing next to a beach where six to ten foot waves are crashing, let me tell you, it's incredible. The fury with which the sea hurtles itself toward land is one of the most humbling experiences to behold. The sound it makes when it crashes is almost deafening, you actually need to yell a bit to speak over it, and to see that same wave gently recede away back to the ocean...well, these magnificently and perfectly chaotic natural occurrences serve as a reminder about our place in this world. Quieting my mind is not something that comes naturally to me, but I am in my most meditative state when watching waves crash into the shore, one after another, after another... There is tremendous peace in the chaos of it all.

I am always up for a little adventure with our girls and when my dear friend Meg asked if we wanted to go "wave sighting" - I jumped. I had been thinking the exact same thing when she messaged me. We all piled into my car, cameras and kids in tow, and embarked on a spontaneous 'round the island' wave-hunting adventure. We hit all the major bays on the North side, starting in Apple and finishing in Josiah's. The drive, despite a couple fussy kids from time to time and the crazy island drivers who give me heart palpitations at every corner, was spectacular. Every turn offered a new view and I must have said, "I love it here SO much!" ten times. To live in a visually spectacular place is important to me, and holy moly, do we live in a visually spectacular place.

We stopped outside Bomba Shack and that's where we first saw the massive waves rolling in. The beaches had already all been closed because of this massive swell and the red "Do Not Swim" flags were flying in the stiff breeze. We drove along further and caught a glimpse of a "seaspraybow" - a rainbow created by the large amount of spray coming off the top of the waves glistening in the sunlight - the girls (expert rainbow spotters, in fact) were the first to see it from their view from the back seat. Pure beauty. We drove on further along the coastline, a couple waves crashing onto my car, up to the ridge road, where we continued our tour around hair-pin turns, up steep climbs and down swift slopes...we drove and drove, stopping to take pics, to tell the girls to take it in, to revel in the immense beauty of our adopted island, Tortola. The waves were roaring, powerful and magnificent from every angle. With every crash they screamed the sheer energy the ocean beholds. She can be calm, but she can be fierce. She is a force to be reckoned with.

Our final destination was in East End, in Josiah's bay. We were hoping to see surfers on the water but they weren't out this morning. The waves - we were told by some female surfers on a yoga/surf retreat that we'd just met - we're "too gnarly" in the bays we visited. Something about the period between them and the direction of the wind. We settled down at the beach, watching quietly and decided to get some snacks at Naomi's Place, a little snack shack right there on the beach.

If there is one thing that is quintessentially Caribbean to me, it is the local eatery run by a beautiful West Indian mama cooking her heart out. Naomi did not disappoint...her restaurant, a handful of tables with shell chimes dangling from every window, is as picturesque as can be. The kitchen is open and would pass no FDA test in the US, but it doesn't matter. It feels more like you are in her home than in a restaurant, and patience is the name of the game. Pots, pans and cooking utensils are everywhere and there is order in the disarray. Naomi, with her gentle demeanor and warm smile makes it that much lovelier. She shuffles around in the kitchen, tending casually to bubbling pots and spitting frying pans, her timing as natural and effortless as that of the waves to the shore.

As we waited for our food, the girls checked out Naomi's shell collection and played barefoot in the sand outside her place, we brought no toys and they were perfectly content to explore and play using their minds.  The tingling of shell chimes blowing in the wind combined with the dull roar of crashing waves and the tinny background drone of Naomi's alarm clock radio set the scene. I looked around, surrounded by people I love, and felt a humongous wave of gratitude wash over me. What began as a little spontaneous island adventure had shaken my senses, awakened my creativity and reminded me all that I love about island life.

And my God, do I love island life. For all the challenges and struggles it presents, the beauty it brings forth - for me, my family - is worth it all. Like the waves crashing into the shore, there is magnificence in the chaos.

“[The waves] move across a faint horizon, the rush of love and the surge of grief, the respite of peace and then fear again, the heart that beats and then lies still, the rise and fall and rise and fall of all of it, the incoming and the outgoing, the infinite procession of life. And the ocean wraps the earth, a reminder. The mysteries come forward in waves.” 

―Susan Casey, The Wave

Flying Solo with Three Kids Under Four or: That time I felt Like a #BossMom

It's difficult to know the potential for utter mayhem and chaos that three small people (two of them being twins) can bring unless you have/had three small children and/or twins. We can go from zero to pandemonium in .02 seconds flat, I have three relationship dynamics to manage at any given time, and did I mention my twins are two? So when it was decided for me through the workings of fate that I would be flying, solo, with my three tots age four and under to my mom's for our annual visit, I began having heart palpitations.

Many people offered words of wisdom and travel suggestions to me via >>Facebook<<, but almost all advice from other parents with a similar adult-to-child scenario replied with, "WHAT!?! ARE YOU INSANE?" because, like I said, these people get it. They know. They have tasted defeat by way of child terrorists and know how physically, spiritually and mentally crushing it can be.

But I thrive on a good challenge and despite the fact that there was chance I could have sent my eldest home with my mom so I would only fly with the twins, I decided that - nope - I was going full Monty. It was all or nothing. Once I'd gotten it in my head that I was doing it, my commitment to the challenge of a full day traveling with my three girls took on an almost Olympic quality. One puddle-jumper plus one layover plus one Boeing 737 and over ten hours of travel door to door would equal the ultimate mom test. I went into it with the attitude of "GAME ON".

***

We've flown a lot with our girls, and had both >>good<< and >>traumatic<< experiences, so I knew - in a way - what to expect on both ends of the spectrum. The only difference was this time, I would not have an extra set of hands to help me from losing a child and/or my sanity. No biggie, right? (insert emoticon with wide eyes). "Deep breaths, stay cool, and think like a ninja" - this was the mantra playing in my head as I mentally prepared for the day.  And prepare I did.

I spent almost a week of sleepless nights visualizing the task at hand, chatting with my trusted advisors (my fellow mamma tribe) and making lists. The night before the flight I was up from 1am till dawn running through scenarios (and worrying my ass off) to be sure I had everything in line. This might seem like overkill and possibly a little dramatic, but it's how I gear up (cue: Rocky Music). Preparation is key to successful travel with young children and I know too well that all it takes is one epic diaper blow out, one kicking and screaming tantrum, or one projectile vomit to really ruin a day. As much as I wish I was kind of person who flies by the seat of her pants by slapping on some lipstick, throwing a few things into a bag and strutting out in the world with her head held high, I am not. I err toward "Type A", make an insane amount of lists and am anything but haphazard when in travel mode with kids in tow. I've learned the hard way that being unprepared does you no favors when your kids are as young and as close in age as mine are.

***

Yes, I was prepared for it all. Blowouts (extra diapers, wipes), tantrums (lollipops, gummy bears), puke spillage (extra clothes for kids, layers for me), boo-boos (bandaids, antiseptic wipes) and sleeplessness (hello, dramamine!). My carryon was loaded with entertainment, food, drink and meds. I was a modern day Mary Poppins and my bag was packed to provide. While I had absolutely envisioned the day going smoothly in several versions of my mental trial runs ("hope for the best, expect the worst", right?), I wasn't prepared for the day to go...well, almost perfectly.

Okay, "perfectly" is a stretch. Our two hour layover turned into a five hour layover (thank God for the $32 sky lounge!! Best. Money. Ever. Spent.) and there was that moment going through security where I was on the verge of a very unfortunate/desperate potty mishap that came dangerously close to disaster (tmi??) and although I dosed my kids with dramamine, none of them slept a wink until the final two hours of our travel day meaning I was ping ponging between defense and offense all. day. long...but despite these minor glitches, the day went as good as I could have possibly wished for.

There were many moments when things could have taken a turn for the worse, but we managed to stave them off with lollipops (thank God for the lollipops!), new toys, and straight-up bribery.  I did whatever I could to keep my little sleep deprived babes at bay and all 'rules' went out the window. Sure, they ate pure junk all day (high fructose corn syrup and sodium, anyone?). Yes, I was utterly exhausted by the end of it (fourteen hours of travel door to door and running on almost zero sleep, yeah!) And, yep, we were a full blown spectacle to anyone who paid any attention to us, particularly in the (very long) security line ("Are you traveling alone with those three little girls?!")...but, we made it. We were grimy, sticky and punch-drunk at the finish line, but we made it. I even got few high fives and some kudos along the way.

We've been incredibly lucky with our travel karma (thank you Universe!) and our girls always seem to win over some strategic people during our journeys. During this day, our karma presented itself as an airport security woman who let the girls and I leave the security line (and come back to our same spot) so I could do the afore-mentioned desperate run to the bathroom. It manifested itself in an extra seat for Isla (who was across the aisle), and provided us with two Puerto Rican teens who entertained the twins for over an hour during our four and a half hour flight. The icing on the cake was a sweet flight attendant who was so impressed with the girls that she comped me not one, but two mini bottles white wine. Catching a slight buzz at 35,000 feet never felt so good.

***

By hour three of our final flight my girls were sound asleep around me, their angelic faces softened by the dim sepia-toned lights of the plane, their little bodies sprawled along the seats...We were on the home stretch and I thought to myself "we made it." Gazing at my girls nestled around me, my heart bursting with love for them I could not have been more proud of their behavior. And as this combination of love and pride swelled up in my solar plexus somewhere over Georgia, I started crying. The pressure in me released and I silently cried tears of joy and thanks. We had made it, and while a lot of luck was on our side, the girls and I were an awesome team and at that moment, I thought I could tackle just about anything. I took a sip of my wine, adjusted myself in my seat, and lifted my head to the screen to enjoy the end of the in-flight film.

***

Traveling with kids is hard. Parenting is hard. Like Olympians, sometimes our work pays off, sometimes it falls short, and sometimes we simply get unlucky. We don't always get the gold, but when we do - we owe it to ourselves to celebrate. On this day I got the gold. I was a boss mom. My babies were boss babies. And I was grateful.

Maho Bay, Where Magic Happens and Serendipity Rules

Magic happens in Maho Bay, St. John. Maybe it’s the turquoise water, the pristine stretch of white sand beach, or perhaps it's the fact the famously calm bay is situated on one of the Caribbean’s most beloved islands and smack-dab in national park... but every time we come here - something extraordinary occurs.

Last year Maho played host to the >>>twin’s first birthday party<<< , as well as one of my >>>best friend's birthday parties<<<, which also happened to serendipitously coincide with the meeting of a couple of blog followers who were in the area on charter. Before the aforementioned festivities went off, Lauren and Brian dinghied up to our boat, introduced themselves, and a friendship was very quickly born. We talked all things boats and cruising; they were keen to check out of the rat race and join the cruiser set, but still apprehensive on some fronts. After the weekend with us and our friends from It's a Necessity and Where the Coconuts Grow, they put their plan into high gear.

***

Just over a year later, we are back at Maho bay. But this time, Brian and Lauren are on their own boat, a beautiful Whitby 42 (a sister ship of ours, no less) and are now full-time cruisers with some serious street cred (and a blog!) of their own. One year. In one single year they completely changed their land-lubbing New Yorker lives and became un-tethered cruisers of the sea. Magic. (...and a lot of hard work, blood, sweat and - most likely - tears too, but for the sake of the post - we're gonna call it "magic"). Either way, that's a pretty incredible timeline.

But it's doesn't stop there...We are also in the company of a whole slew of fellow bloggers and friends who happened to descend upon this little slice of paradise at precisely the same time. While it might seem that a multiple-day blogger-rally like this was the result of lots of email and planning, this weekend gathering occurred rather haphazardly and with very little preparation. As our friend Bo of Sailing B+ A so aptly wrote on his blog post of our incredible weekend, “this kind of epic cannot be planned or anticipated”. It just sort of...happened.

It all started when our friends, the Sunkissed Soeters, mentioned they were going to go to St. John for the weekend and that we should come with. I jumped at the chance and immediately alerted, Genevieve of It’s a Neccesity, knowing that this little jaunt would be easy for them being based just across the channel in St. Thomas. When that plan materialized, we knew that Jody and Peter of Where the Coconuts Grow would want "in" as well...And so it went down the coconut telegraph with every boat contacting another and another...and before we knew it, in less than 24 hours of "planning", six boats, twelve live-aboards, and seven boat kids converged on Maho Bay for one fateful weekend of fun in the sun. 

It was an amazing time with wonderful friends, new and old. The weekend has been well documented on social media and has been dubbed "Lobsterfest 2016" thanks to a bounty of seven "bugs" the men (and Lauren!) caught one day that turned into - quite possibly - the most logistically complicated yet perfectly executed cruiser pot-luck meal in history (See >>>Lauren's post<<< for full details of the amazingness!) The lobsters were cleaned on one boat, parboiled on another, grilled on yet another, all while Lauren (a bonafide chef and self-proclaimed foodie - ohmygodsheissogood!) prepped pizza dough and fixings for seven - COUNT THAT SEVEN - lobster pizzas. Once assembled, Eben collected and dispersed the pizza's to every boat where we cooked them ourselves and brought the finished products - along with some delicious sides - aboard a beautiful power boat who's caretakers, Amanda and Justin, we had met (again serendipitously) on the beach that afternoon. After meeting all of us and getting to talking, they generously offered to play host to our massive pot luck which was a good thing because no monohull cockpit is comfy for twelve adults and seven kiddos!  

I'm missing steps of how the meal materialized for sure, but let me tell you - it all somehow went off without a hitch.

The weekend was amazing, and most certainly the highlight of this season for us. Laughs, day drinking, hiking, swimming, paddle-boarding, kiteboarding (Eben and Scott), laughing, late nights, early mornings and - in general - all the goodness we love about the cruising lifestyle in the highest, most concentrated dose ever. While weekends like this are no longer the norm for us as full-time marina dwellers in the British Virgin Islands, it's serendipitous rarity made it that much more special to us. 

***

And that couple we met on the beach? The one's who so graciously hosted our motley crew and fit right in like they've been our friends forever? We've been writing back and forth because now they are "seriously looking and talking about buying a boat and cruising the islands" just like Brian and Lauren before them. "Maho Bay, the place where dreams are discovered...." Wonder what this next year will bring? 

Magic.

Want to read/see more about the weekend? Check out these videos and blog posts by our friends:

>>>Maho Bay Lobster Weekend 2016<<<

>>> This Kind of Epic Can Not Be Planned<<<

>>> One of our Favorite Weekends of the Year (Lobsterfest Video)<<<

>>>Illegal Alien in St. John<<<

And now for a photo dump of our weekend...

Sailing from Tortola to St. John is almost always a pleasure, down wind and smooth. Perfect for the littles.

Isla taking it all in. She's always been a very zen little sailor chick.

Ritz crackers were the snack du jour. 

Under full sail. St. John in our sights.

This is a typical moment underway for us.

When you make the Virgin Islands your home, these sort of sailing scenes are normal. #lucky

The girls having fun and getting excited to see all their friends.

This is what Haven does when you ask for a "thumbs up". I find it hysterical. 

Maho Bay, full steam ahead! 

As soon as we got our mooring ball, friends started to show up. Here is Bo and Allie of s/v Selah. 

And Eben, Genevieve, Arias and Ellia of s/v Necesse.

Our view of Maho Bay. It's bliss, not gonna lie. 

Lauren and Allison promptly came over during nap time for a little gab fest and some day drinking. Love these two. 

When Genevieve's girls woke up, they headed over too!

Darcy, Luuck, Stormer and Rio arrived too...

And there's the stern of s/v Nightengale Tune, Brian and Lauren's boat.

A gathering of friends and a little day drinking in our cockpit. Our garbage bag was FULL after this day! haha!

Luuck of Sunkissed Soeters took all the kids tubing, SO MUCH FUN! Here's Isla and Stormer. So many smiles!

Our good friends Jody and Peter of Where the Coconuts grow were there too!

Because, twins. They are just the cutest;

Lauren learned very quickly that giving a toddler a phone is an easy and quick way into their good graces! 

"Oh, yeah. You're going to find a few selfies of Mira and I on your camera" - Allison. Love her.

Snorkeling with daddy.

Scott taking the kids for a little spin around the neighborhood. 

Sunset in Maho.

Party boat! Or are those Pirates!?!?

The collecting and dropping off of lobsters and supplies for the epic Lobsterfest dinner.

Breakfast time at anchor is our fave. We are up and out with the sunshine! 

Oh, Haven!

Little Mira-belle and her sneaky grin.

Again, twins. The best thing ever.

Steely eyed wild child.

Our little mermaid. Sweet as pie.

Maho is full of sea turtles, all you need to do is watch for a while and you're sure to spot them.

Watching the sea life and bird life is standard practice when at anchor.

Beach time before we shoved off.

Homeward bound full of great memories from an incredible weekend.

My little sea gypsy. Love her so much.

Upwind sailing with three toddlers is a different ball game! More challenging for sure!

Girls were over tacking at this point, but man - Scott was thrilled we got to sail the whole way back. 

Captain of our ship.

Haven, thoughtful.

Family photo of our boat from B+A's drone.

Thanks for an amazing weekend, friends! Cannot wait to do it again! xoxo