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.

What Does it Feel like to Drown?

"What would it feel like to drown?" This is a question that just about every person who spends a good deal of time on the water wonders.  I've heard that it's actually a pretty peaceful way to go when it's all said and done; after all we came from water in the womb, so it seems perfectly natural that to water we would return...I guess there's some poetry in that.  I once saved the life of a drowning woman off the coast of El Salvador.  She was unresponsive by the time I got to her, but had suffered an asthma attack in the huge surf and then, after putting up a (panicky) fight, she said she just "let go" (went unconscious) and everything was "calm and peaceful".  That was until I got her to the beach where CPR was frantically performed and she "came to" again.  But anyway, that's besides the point...

Luckily, few of us will ever know intimately the experience of drowning, but one French filmmaker set out to show people what it might look and feel like to drown.  It's an interactive web movie and pretty intense.  I lasted about 4 minutes before I succumbed to the watery depths - but then again, I had two babies crying for me so I was distracted.  How long will you last?  See for yourself.

A couple takeaways from the video that are worth noting:

• How quickly things go from hunky dory to hellish (such is life on a boat)
• How fast the boat disappears on the horizon despite it being a pretty calm day
• The importance of making sure every crew member knows how to control the vessel
• The importance of having man overboard procedures in place

This video really drove those points home for me.  

What do you think?  Ever had a close call on the water?

A New Horizon: Thoughts on Change

So here we are.

Scott went off to work last week for the next five weeks - his last rotation with Island Windjammers for the foreseeable future (the door to return remains open) - and Isla and I are on the boat, prepping her for our impending departure, a date that is hurtling towards us despite my attempts to ignore it.

We leave on Friday.

We fly back home to Chicago and leave the tropics, our boat, our home for the next fifteen to twenty months, give or take.  That's right.  We're moving back to land.  We're going to become C.L.O.D's (cruisers living on dirt, though I really hate that acronym).  And oh yeah, and I'm going to give birth to twins in the next couple of months.  Our lives are about to do a major, major about face.

Ironically, it's the whole 'moving back to land' thing that's the biggest pill to swallow for me and I have been procrastinating writing about it because writing about it makes it real.  I don't want it to be real.  Don't get me wrong, I know that this is what we have to do and I know that this is what is best for our family right now.  I am excited to spend the holidays with loved ones, I am happy that I am going home to my amazing friends and I am beyond grateful to be welcomed with open arms into a home that is full of happiness, laughter, support and love.  Wonderful, amazing things are in store for us, and I should be counting my blessings that we have so much to look forward to and be thankful for all the options that are before us, but I just can't shake this feeling of melancholy that sits like a pit in my tummy.  I can't seem to get excited about moving back to land, even with all the benefits that doing so entails.  Each day I pack up more and more of our boat, I get a little more sad.  You see, I don't want things to change.  I am really, really sad to end this chapter.

I know, I know...Change is part of life.  Change is good and necessary for growth... But despite being a person who's life has more or less been defined by coming and going and living pretty unconventionally, I have never been one to take unplanned life changes in stride with my head held high.  Oh no, as much as I hate to admit this rather large character flaw (namely that I am a control freak), change that I have not been the master of has to pull me forward by the scruff of my neck while I kick and scream in protest: "But I LIKED the way things were!" "Leave me be! I was happy where I was!!!"  When my best friend got married - as thrilled as I was for her to have found an awesome life partner, father and husband - I grieved for the duo that we used to be (and let me tell you, we were - and still are - quite a pair!).  When I left Africa after three incredible life-altering years, I came home in a fog that took months to come out of.  When summer and sailing season ended each year in my former land life, I mourned and went into a funk.  When we part ways with buddy boats, I get weepy.  In other words, when my little world is rocked, it takes me a good, long while to get my bearings again.  Seems out of character, right?  Guess I am not as "go with the flow" as I might like to think I am.  I'm a walking, talking paradox at times.

Part of this current resistance, no doubt, is the fact that it is winter right now and (despite loving to ski), I never have and never will be a "winter" or cold weather person.  I will be going home to temperatures in the single and possibly negative digits.  Up north where I come from, is not unusual for the sun to remain in hiding for days at a time this time of year.  It's dark a lot and, obviously, really cold.  For a sun-loving, beach-going, warm-weather-lover like me, it's hard to get excited about those things.  For someone like me, weather like that is just a tad depressing.

The other part of this resistance and sorrow is that I kind of feel like we're breaking up, you and I.

Sharing this adventure with you all has been a pleasure, you have brought me tremendous support, joy, insight and, sometimes, even friendship.  You have challenged, inspired and pushed me.  And while we have no plans to sell this boat (unless we buy another one) and are prepping to resume cruising again in the 2015 season (we plan to be based in the BVI's where it will be easier to island hop and adjust to life aboard as five, more on this to come), this hiatus will be a long one.  I am still going to write during this land-based period, and when I feel inspired or have reason, it will be boat and cruising related... But for the most part - I'm going to be a landlubber embarking on a new adventure.  Namely one of the "three children under three" variety.  I have no doubt that being a mama to a toddler and twins (a situation likened to the 'decathlon of parenting' in a book I read) will provide me with plenty of fodder for amusing and insightful stories and blog posts, sporadic as they might be for a while.  But I also know that reading about adventures in twin rearing is not why many of you are here...

And while I welcome with open arms the new followers of this blog who are reading to follow exactly that stuff ,  I also know that I will be parting ways with some of you - and that is totally understandable and okay (this began, after all, as a cruising blog).  But do me a favor and refrain from actually telling me that you will be no longer be reading or that you are so sad we are moving back to land you can hardly stand it or that you just know we won't be happy ashore and that we should really reconsider our options (yes, emails in all three categories have been received).  Right now, I need to focus on the positive and hearing those things makes me sad.

Regardless, as sentimental as I am about this chapter ending, I am ready to embrace this new adventure (yes, even despite the cold weather).  It's time.  The past couple of months have been challenging for us in ways that I have not shared.  We need to re-charge our batteries and focus on what is the most important thing right now:  our family and healthy babies.  Scott and I were texting yesterday about this very subject and he reminded me that every major change in our life has lead us to something even better than before: from buying our first boat, to quitting our jobs to leaving Chicago, to sailing to Grenada, to Scott getting employed by Island Windjammers, to coming home for eight months to have Isla, to getting a bigger boat and resuming cruising again...all of these major shifts in our life were not without some yin and yang type emotions and growing pains...but every single time, and I mean every. single. time. we came out the other side better than before.  Each and every transformation cultivated us into something greater, whether or not we knew it at the time.  So, while I might be resistant to this big change upon us and lament the end of this amazing chapter, I know in my heart of hearts that this slash mark on the timeline of our lives will mark the beginning of something even greater than before...

And we'll be back on the boat, back in the islands, back to living our dream.  Of that I am certain.

We have committed ourselves to a life less ordinary, a life where adventure is the rule and not the exception.

But for now, we'll take pause.

Swimming at Anchor: You're Not Always Safe in the Water

And, no, I am not talking about sharks here.  Bad things seem to be happening to folks around us which, I must admit, is slightly unnerving.  First, there was the attack on the cruisers in the anchorage next to us, then our very good friends had their dinghy stolen (miraculously it was recovered), and - to add insult to injury (or visa versa) - one of those same friends was a potentially deadly accident while swimming in a popular anchorage.

Most boat folks love the water.  The two sort of go hand in hand.  Our friend, Mario, is no exception and everywhere he and his beautiful partner, Karine, sail they take to the water to either spearfish, swim or snorkel.  They also happen to be supremely awesome and kind people so when mutual friends of ours anchored nearby, Mario offered to dive their anchor for them (a good habit to get into each time you drop the hook to make sure your anchor is properly set and dug in, we do this every time we anchor).  As he was swimming over to the boat, another cruiser's dinghy came zooming through the anchorage at top speed, oblivious to the fact that Mario was in the water.  Our friend, Eugene, who was on the bow of boat who's anchor was being checked screamed at the dinghy to tell them there was a swimmer in the water - but it was too late.  They never saw Mario and ran over him with their boat.  Luckily, Mario was able to dive down far enough to ensure the hit was not lethal (this sort of accident can absolutely be deadly) but he still suffered lacerations on his back from the propeller, and recieved several severe bruises on his head and shoulder as a result.  It is truly a miracle it was not worse and we are so happy he will be fine.

There are two very important lessons to take away from this near tragedy:

1. Be a cautious and watchful dinghy driver at ALL times:  but especially when you are driving through an anchorage.  When you are motoring through a crowded anchorage, do not go at top speed and be very mindful that there might be swimmers in the water.  Proceed with caution and keep a watchful eye.  Same goes for driving your big boat (though they rarely hit the speeds that dinghies do).
2. As a swimmer, do NOT assume you can be seen.  If you are swimming in a busy/crowded anchorage do not assume other boaters can see you, it is surprisingly difficult to see a lone swimmer or snorkeler in the water, especially during certain light.  Take precaution and use some sort of personal safety buoy (no affiliation) to alert dinghies and local boats to your whereabouts.  You do not need to buy anything fancy, a simple white milk jug or an old (brightly colored) life jacket attached to a tether could do the trick as well.

The swim buoy Mario and Karine will tow from now on to help ensure they are seen in the water.

Big thanks to Mario and Karine of The Good Life for letting us share their story in the hopes of helping others.

Photos courtesy of Mario and Karine of The Good Life catamaran.

Boat Karma and the Cruiser's Code: Helping out a Vessel in Trouble

The other night as we were coming back in the dinghy from our provisioning run, Scott and Luuck noticed a boat was dragging, with a lone sailor at the helm.  We all were in one dinghy (women and kids included), so they dropped Darcy and I off on our respective boats with the kiddos and immediately went to the boat in trouble to assist.  It was dangerously close to dragging into the unattended boat behind it (and, beyond that, was a reef; Clifton Harbor is not an anchorage to drag in) and time was of the essence.  The boys sprung right into action; Scott getting behind the helm and Luuck and the owner heading to the bow to raise the anchor and re-set it.  The whole ordeal lasted about an hour from start to finish and the owner (who was alone) was very, very grateful for the help of Scott and Luuck.  Our guys even got a couple cold ones out of the deal.

While the story isn't exactly gripping, what it illustrates is one of the cardinal rules of cruising:  when you see another boat in trouble, you help because one day, it will be you on the other side of the coin.  While those of us lucky enough to live this lifestyle enjoy the ability to reside "off the grid" and outside mainstream society, what this also means is we don't get to enjoy some of the conveniences a developed society affords.  We rely on ourselves, and each other, when things go wrong.  There's no AAA, no water-based fire department, and no 911 on the water to come to our rescue so when bad things happen - you must rely on yourself and, if you are lucky, the kindness of strangers to get you out of a jam.

Which brings me back to another story.  You might recall my post from last week about how some fellow cruisers were brutally attacked in the anchorage next to us.  Not 24 hours after that post went "live", I received an email from a close friend of the woman attacked.  Apparently Tina (the victim) was curious about the boat I mentioned in that post that had come into our anchorage during dark.  Tina had recalled a boat being in their anchorage, but never heard them on the radio (to be fair, it turns out they were on different channels) and saw them shine a light on their boat only to watch them leave immediately after hearing their cries.  From Mark and Tina's vantage point, these mystery cruisers had done a "runner" and abandoned them in their moment of need.  Reading her email confirmed my initial suspicion, which was a hard pill to swallow.  How could someone just leave another person in trouble like that? In landlubber life, this happens all the time.  We all pass stranded motorists on the highway and turn a blind eye to the homeless in our cities.  But on the water this sort of behavior is taboo.

When we went back to Chatham Bay the next day that boat was still there and Luuck went over to tell them the unfortunate fate of s/v Rainbow, the boat they left after hearing screaming.  While they were very upset to hear that there was indeed serious trouble (and not, as they otherwise thought, a domestic dispute), the response of the male was incredibly disturbing.  He mentioned that he knew deep down something terrible was happening and he just wanted to "get out of there."  Apparently when he was in Brazil, a cruiser on a boat next to him was murdered and, after bearing witness to that, he now believes it's best not to get involved.   He made zero apologies for this logic (the woman, on the other hand, was emphatic that they should have done something and was very distraught over the news).  To be fair, this man broke no law and was in no legal way obligated to help out, but what he did do is break a deep seated cruiser moral code.

I am not here to incriminate anyone or create a mob against this boat (and it shall remain nameless because I intentionally did not get the name to avoid such a thing), but rather to start a discussion on the subject and get people thinking.  What would you do?  While we never know exactly what our reactions will be if faced with a similar situation, we can speculate.  We all agreed that simply abandoning fellow boaters in peril would not be an option.  We went around and around discussing this issue from every angle and we all came to the final conclusion that if the tables were turned, we'd hope that someone would help us.  If there was ever a case of "treat others the way you want to be treated", this was the holy grail.  We would have assisted in any way we could and certainly wouldn't have left in the midst of screaming.

It should be noted that the cruising community as a whole did come out in droves for Mark and Tina.  While no one was physically there to assist them during this tragedy, over the magic of the radio and the substantial Grenada cruisers net, Tina was given immediate medical advice over the radio for her wounds and when they got their boat to safety a few hours later in the neighboring island of Carriacou, medical services were waiting to take them to the hospital.  The cruising community has continued to come to their aid in just about every way, shape and form imaginable.  Most of us understand that this could have happened to any of us and empathy runs deep amongst cruisers.

So how can we move forward from this?  How do we ensure anchorages remain safe for cruisers?  How can you help if faced with a similar scenario?  Here are a few things we came up with:

1. Always, ALWAYS keep your radio on: Especially at night.  Monitor channel 16 and possibly scan other channels if there are popular cruisers' stations in your area.  Mark and Tina were hugely assisted by channel 66 which is the Grenada Cruisers channel that many people monitor.  Luckily, due to it's popularity, a repeater was added which meant they could reach people all the way in St. Georges from here in the Grenadines (without the repeater this would not have been possible).
2. If you hear trouble, call on the radio first:  If there are signs of distress and trouble, try hailing the boat in question on the radio over and over.  Try several stations as not everyone only monitors 16.  
3. If you don't get the boat in question on the radio, try other boats in the area: Other boats might be aware of the situation as well and able to help.  The more boats that can get involved in one way or another - the better.  There is safety in numbers.
4. If you know for certain there is trouble, alert every station on the radio:  Make a "Pan Pan" (or a "Mayday" if imminent danger is certain) announcement on every major station in your area (starting with 16).  The boat in trouble might have their radio on (but not be able to get to it) and a thief or attacker might be scared away by hearing alerts over the airwaves. To do this, follow this radio protocol:
1. "Pan pan, Pan pan, Pan pan ALL STATIONS"
2. "This is sailing vessel 'x' (repeat three times slowly and clearly)"
3.  Report position, urgency message, type of assistance required.
4.  Listen for acknowledgment.  Repeat if necessary.*
5. Have your air horn, spotlight and/or pepper spray handy:  We now have all three in our cockpit when we are up there in the evenings and by our bedsides.  Criminals do not like loud noises and bright lights.  (Please, let's NOT turn this into a gun debate, we do not have guns on board and do not ever plan on having guns on board.  Period.)
6. Have flares handy and be sure they are not expired:  The boat in trouble might not be able to help themselves if there is a struggle, so setting off a flare for them can be a big help.  As an aside, some flare guns can also house shotgun shells and flares themselves can be considered pretty devastating weapons.  Our flare gun is stainless steel and can, quite literally, pack a punch - though I am not suggesting that shooting anyone is the answer as sometimes that can just exacerbate a situation.  This is a tirelessly debated subject and one I don't care to get into at this juncture.
7. If you are of able body, go assist:  It has been decided that if we are ever faced with a situation like this, the men of our boat would assess the situation and assist if possible while the women would stay back with the kids.  This option might not be for everyone, and that is okay, but know that there are many ways to help aside from physical intervention. (Tina mentioned that the boat that left their anchorage could have really helped them get their anchor up and get out of there as she was very seriously injured and severely bleeding.)
8. Do what you can in the aftermath:  Offer a medical kit, medical advice, make calls on the radio to line up further help and do what you can to soften the blow, so to speak.

What else can be done?  Any veteran cruisers' have protocol you would suggest or follow?  Please share in the comments so we can all learn some safety standards of procedure (again, let's stay above the "shoot 'em up" debate).  The more prepared we are as a whole community, the better equipped we will be to help each other out if and when the time comes.

If you want to read some of the scuttlebutt around this recent attack, you can read this thread on Cruisers Forum.  You can also hear more about the attack first hand from Tina through this blog post by her good friend, Lynne.

* Many thanks to our friends from Kaleo for sharing this procedure with us. We have a laminated sheet with all call protocol; securite, pan pan, and mayday laminated and taped in our navigation station.

When Bad Things Happen in Paradise: Cruisers Attacked

Last night, while we were enjoying post dinner laughs and conversation with our friends in our cockpit, two fellow cruisers were being brutally attacked in the anchorage next to us.  According to reports, the boat s/v Rainbow was boarded by two men wielding machetes around 8:40pm.  Both crew members, a husband and wife, were badly injured and received lacerations during the skirmish and, after fighting off the thieves, both are now safe and the woman is receiving medical care in Grenada.

While "pirate" attacks have certainly been occurring in this area of the world for quite some time, this particular assault was a little closer than we have ever been to something like this.  In fact, around 9:15 pm a boat ghosted into our anchorage.  They called on the radio, asking for "the American boat anchored in Ashton harbor at Frigate Island".  Scott answered their call, thinking that maybe they were referring to us and were just confused as to what anchorage they were in.  They replied that they left Frigate Island after hearing screams.  Before leaving, they tried calling the neighboring boat several times on the radio to see if they needed help and after getting no reply, they figured it was a domestic dispute that had gone awry and decided to leave the anchorage to avoid listening to fighting all night.  It is horrible to think that what was happening was far from a domestic dispute.  It's even more horrible to think that as we were laughing and talking in our cockpit with our friends, there were two fellow cruisers fighting for their lives three miles away.

While there are many arguments that state how this sort of thing happens anywhere (and it does) and that we shouldn't let "fear" rule our lives (and we shouldn't), the fact remains that this particular cluster of Islands - St. Vincent and the Grenadines - has, in recent history, been on many cruiser's radars as being a place where crime against boaters is undeniably on the rise.  Because of this, these islands have very quickly gotten a reputation as being a place to avoid all together which is a definite lose/lose situation for all involved - yet another example of how a few bad apples can spoil the bunch.   Unfortunately, the "bunch" we're talking about is the tourism industry that so many of these islanders rely on for their livelihoods and cruisers who will chose to skip this lovely island chain,  a true gem of the southern Caribbean, because of these "bad apples".  While we have no plans to leave here based on this incident alone, it certainly has us thinking.  Yes, we are traveling with a buddy boat, and yes, there is some safety in numbers - but we also have babies on board which makes us even more protective and safety conscious.  I cannot even begin to imagine what we would do if faced with a similar situation, and I hope and pray we never have to.  The sad truth is that no one is immune - not us, not anyone - and all we can do is make our own judgement calls based on the information we have and weigh the risks involved.

We - along with our friends - will be considering our options closely in regards to our next steps and we will most certainly be coming up with a plan of action should this sort of event happen to either of our boats.  It is entirely possible that we will leave these beautiful islands much faster than we would have otherwise to sail for a place where violent crime is less of a threat.  Crimes like these won't stop sailors from sailing to far off lands - we're a pretty tough bunch and we love our lifestyle - but what it will do is make us think twice and possibly avoid some of those beautiful lands all together.

Our thoughts and prayers are with Mark and Christina of s/v Rainbow.

Update:  Not 24 hours after the incident, it has been reported that there are three suspects in custody.  Major props to the Saint Vincent and Grenadine officials for acting incredibly fast and taking this incident very seriously.

Lazy Days and a Harrowing Reminder

Isla, decked out for the beach

Since we decided to turn on our air conditioning, we have become hermits of sorts.  Honestly, if it wasn't for Isla, I doubt I'd leave the boat for much more than a shower and some food.  Thankfully, her happy, excited little face cannot be cooped up in a boat all day so I take her on walks to the beach, outings to the mall, and afternoon swims in the pool.  She's turning into quite the little fish lately and it's pretty awesome to see her become more and more fearless with each passing day.  She is now at the point where she'll jump in and fully submerge without screaming bloody murder.  A month ago, I couldn't even wash her hair without primal wails of protest.  It's incredible how fast they learn.  Just this morning, in fact, Scott taught Isla how to scratch our backs.  We consider this a milestone.

Anyway, there's nothing much to report other than the fact that the millions of projects we had such high hopes for accomplishing here remain undone.  No varnishing.  No polishing.  No replacing the halyards.  No cleaning out our heat exchangers and changing our generator oil.  The untouched list goes on.  Since we're plugged into shore power and not moving for a little while the impetus just isn't there.  Not to mention Scott is working so his time for our boat work is practically nothing.  We'll get it all done...eventually.  We plan to haul the boat out in a month or so when we go back to the states for a visit, so we'll get our butts into "work mode" then.  In the meantime, we just keep adding to the list while we do menial chores from inside our nice, cool, 85° boat.

In totally unrelated news (and because I have nothing really interesting to say at the moment), my bloggy friend Holli wrote a very poignant piece on some friends of hers who recently abandoned their boat off the coast of Spain.  Thankfully, nobody was hurt, but it is always good to be reminded that no one - no matter how much experience, how strong your boat, or how well prepared you are - no one is immune to the powers of the ocean.  It pays to be humble and always remember that.  I wish the crew of s/v Serena all the best in getting their life back as they recover from what must have been a devastating loss.

In Darkness we must seek Light

I had a different post scheduled for today.  It was about the power of positive thinking and the effects of having positive people in your life.  It was edited and ready to go, and just as I was about to hit "post", the news of one of the deadliest shootings in US history began to roll in.  Connecticut.  26 dead.  Elementary school.  Children...suddenly, my post on positive thinking just didn't seem right.  The fate of the little children who lost their lives today had nothing to do with positive people or negative thinking.  No "attitude" brought this on these families.  What happened today was an unspeakable tragedy that simply cannot be fathomed by anyone with a heart and soul.  Being a new mom this news hit me hard.  It was impossible not to shed tears as the details unfolded.

So many people ask why Scott and I want to take off on a boat with our baby.  Days like today punctuate the reason.  Days like today make me want to sail away forever and keep our baby far, far away from here.  What is wrong with the world today?  What has become of our nation when we cannot send our kids to school without fearing for their safety?  What sort of society do we live in where a twenty year old man is so irreparably broken that he can kill innocent little children?  I know that violence has always existed.  That there are and always will be outliers.  It's statistics.  But doesn't it seem that tragedies like this are happening more?  That somewhere, somehow we have taken a turn for the worse?  That the moral fiber of our society is thinning out at an alarming rate?  I don't know if it's media, violence on television, chemicals in our food or the breakdown of the family unit - but something isn't right and something must be done.

Now, more than ever, is a time to focus on the good in the world.  We need to turn our eyes to the everyday, unsung heros who do NOT make our world ugly.  They are everywhere.  They might not be on the news, and they won't get famous for their deeds but there are millions of tiny acts of kindness and love happening right now.  Raise them up high and sing them from the mountaintops.  There are wonderful things happening that are making this world a better place.  Despite the unspeakable, inhuman crimes of people like the monster today, this world is still a beautiful place.  Do something kind.  Help someone in need.  Lend an ear to a friend.  Smile at a stranger.  In the wake of this tragedy, let's all shine a little light of goodness in honor of those innocent children who lost their lives today.  Are you with me?

You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty. 

- Mahatma Ghandi

Have You Checked Your Rig Today?

Put this into the "Things that make you go BOOM!" category. Photo courtesy from this site.

No sooner had I hit "publish" on my last post when I got a call from Scott;  "Cancel everything,"  he said sternly, "The sea trial is off".  We were supposed to be on a southbound plane tonight at 7:51pm and sailing tomorrow by 10am.  Point for travel insurance!

This morning, our rig surveyor (separate from our marine survey, which was scheduled for Friday after the sea trial) found cracks in a swage terminal at the top of the mast.  This is not good and must be fixed before we sea trail.  For those of you who do not know what a swage terminal is, I have included a picture above (the arrows point to a hair line crack).  To put it very simply: swage terminals house the shrouds which, in turn, hold up the mast (aka the 'rig').  When swage terminals go bad, rigs fall down.  When rigs fall down, it's a very, very bad very, very expensive day.

Upon first hearing this news I was pretty bummed.  Not only was I excited to go down and sail our potential new boat, I was anxious to move forward and either solidify this deal or move on.  Now it seems we'll have to postpone another two weeks.  Sigh.  After a little more thought, however, I realized this is really good news.  Better to find this problem now (when the owner must pay to fix it) as opposed to later when we are underway.  I shudder to think.  Typically, when cracked swage terminals are discovered, the entire standing rig must be replaced.  This is very good information to know before we buy this boat!

Which leads me to my next point:  The importance of a rig survey.  Most of the time a regular marine survey will only inspect the rig from the deck of a boat, they will not go aloft.  Because we are buying an older boat our wonderful broker buddy, Allen, highly recommend we get the rig fully inspected separately.  We (thankfully!) took his advice and the few hundred dollars the rig survey cost has now paid for itself two fold.

This information isn't only relevant to folks buying boats either!  If you have a boat and cannot remember the last time your rig was properly inspected, it might be time to think about it lest you end up with a boat without a stick.  Typically, they say standing rigging should be replaced in full every 10-15 years if a boat is used in the tropics and cruised extensively.  If you feel confident doing it yourself, you can check out this article which highlights what to look for.  If you would feel better having an expert, there are plenty of rigging companies that will do it for you.

So, while this does put a little wrench into the schedule of things, this also puts a little wrench onto our potential new boat's rig, and THAT is a good thing!

Love,
Brittany, Scott and Isla

Personal Location Beacons

Just one of our very expensive items that we hope we never have to use.

We literally have thousands of dollars worth of gear on our boat that we hope we NEVER have to use.  It's crazy, really.  EPIRB, life raft and our extreme offshore medical kit just to name a few of the biggies.  Not to mention all the flares, fire extinguishers, and life jackets we have as well (as required by the coast guard).  None of this equipment is cheap. In fact, all of this equipment is quite expensive which is why lots of boaters on a budget forego some of it.  We're in the conservative camp of cruisers.  We like to have our bases covered.  In our minds, it's better to be safe than sorry and we were lucky that we could afford some extra peace of mind with these safety measures.  We've met lots of boats who are not in our camp for various reasons and some who believe that things like EPIRBS and life rafts are a waste of money - to each his own, as they say.

The other night over drinks with some new friends who just completed an Atlantic crossing, we talked about their uneventful journey and they told one pretty harrowing tale of a crossing that occurred a few years ago that didn't fare so well.  Pretty much the worst thing that can happen on a voyaging boat would be to come up for your watch to find the person who should be on deck, gone.  It is my own personal nightmare and I know it is shared by many other cruisers as well.  This is exactly what happened to this particular boat.  This story was told to me second-hand so the details are fuzzy, but apparently when the one friend came up for his shift, the other was gone.  There was no sign of him but the broken shackle where he had been tethered.  The skipper had no idea if his friend went over 10 minutes or three hours prior.  For those of you who aren't familiar with boating and man overboard situations, finding a person in the water in any condition is very, very difficult.  Add in waves, wind, currents, and pitch-black night and it becomes almost impossible.  This friend eventually gave up hope and continued on his trip devastated and alone.  Luckily, this particular boat had left on their crossing just before the ARC rally and had a slew of boats coming behind them.  Unbeknownst to the skipper, his friend was picked up by another boat and they were reunited in the Caribbean.  It should be understood that this is nothing short of a miracle.  Most people would not be so lucky.

I tell this story because it got us talking about man overboard situations and ways to protect yourself and avoid them.  First and foremost, the number one rule on our boat is:  STAY ON IT. While Scott and I have an impressive array of quality safety equipment aboard Rasmus in the event of an emergency, one thing we do not have are personal location beacons (PLB's).

The Echopilot caught my eye because it acts differently than most other PLB's I have seen.  This one is attached to AIS so in order for it to work for you, you must be set up with AIS (we have this on Rasmus and it is for sure one of the best systems we installed).  It works like this: instead of notifying the Coast Guard (which is on land and could take many, many hours to organize a search and rescue - days if you are in the middle of the ocean somewhere) or simply sounding an alarm on the boat, it sets of a very loud AIS alarm on your boat and any other AIS boat in the near vicinity and (thanks to GPS technology) gives the exact position of the person in the water, right there on the chart plotter.  There are several advantages to a system like this, first of all - the boat that is most likely to rescue the person who has fallen overboard is the very one they fell off of (assuming there is another person on the boat to pilot it).  Also, giving that boat the victims exact position doesn't only greatly expedite rescue, but increases the odds of rescue tremendously (never underestimate the power of currents, wind and waves and their ability to make things disappear on the ocean!).  The other advantage is that it will also notify all other boats equipped with AIS within a four mile radius.  There are several other types of personal recovery systems - but this technology is touted as the "wave of the future" in terms of the evolving sophistication personal location beacons.  We shall see.

Like I said, we don't have any system like this on board Rasmus yet, but before we cross an ocean I'm sure we will spring for something similar to the Echopilot.*  When it comes to safety at sea, money spent on safety gear can be replaced.  Life cannot.

Love,
Brittany & Scott

*As I mentioned - in order for this system to work for you it assumes a few things:  1) That you have a chart plotter equipped with AIS and 2) That there is someone else on the boat who can maneuver the boat to the victim.  Therefore, as stated on their website, this system is not ideal for a solo sailor.  For a single hander, personal EPIRB is probably the best.  After not falling off the boat, of course.

Seasickness

Conditions like this can cause "mal de mer"

Mal de mer, or seasickness, is one of the worst side effects of boating...it has been known to turn people from sailing for good, can range from mild to severely debilitating and to the sufferer, anything - sometimes even death - can seem to be welcome relief from it. It's pretty much the most miserable feeling you can ever imagine.

I'm not sure why - but I don't suffer from seasickness aside from mild nausea from time to time in very rough conditions and I have never in my life actually been sick because of it.  Scott has only thrown up from being seasick once and that was very early in our trip.  But we have dealt with enough seasick people and read enough accounts to know just how awful and incredibly serious it can be.  I read one story of a man who had to lock his wife below during a particularly rough Atlantic crossing because she was so ill and delusional that she was seriously threatening to jump off the boat for relief.  My dad has also had to lash a severely sick friend to the boat for the same reason.  Seasickness is very real, and if one or more members of your crew gets ill - it can make for miserable passages fraught with anxiety, fear and lots of icky clean-up.

Luckily - there are lots of great ways to treat seasickness, but first, what are the signs?

A good captain will always be keeping an eye on crew to make sure they're feeling okay.  For some reason or another, people don't like to admit to being seasick.  I don't know why people get prideful about this, because denying it only makes it worse, but they do.  So if you are the captain, it's important to look for signs on passengers that might be too stubborn to admit it.

The first sign is sleepiness.  When we are out sailing with friends I'm always looking for the tell-tale yawn.  Frequent yawning is usually the very first sign.  This doesn't mean the person will be sick, but it does mean they are on their way.  For this individual - it's important they stay above deck and in fresh air. The next symptom is usually headache which is soon followed by nausea.  Once the nausea hits, people will usually start to fess up.  It is around this point that they will turn green.  And I'm not joking, truly seasick people will actually change color.  Unfortunately for them, it is usually too late to take any medication.  If it's mild enough - I'll always tell people to lie down and try to go to sleep.  Sleep seems to ward off seasickness and I think if you catch it early this can prevent losing your cookies.

What are some other ways to ward off mal de mer?

1. Eat Ginger.  Ginger is a natural cure.  We keep candied ginger on the boat and ginger ale (even though it's not cold, it'll still settle a queasy tummy).
2. Stay hydrated.  Before you head out to sea avoid acidic drinks like coffee or tea and make sure you drink LOTS of water.  Pre-hydrating can greatly help fight motion sickness.  Also, if you do become afflicted - it is very important to keep taking small sips of water to avoid dehydration.  If you are prone to seasickness, it's also probably wise to avoid the wild booze infested send-off the night before.  A hangover is really un-fun on a bouncy boat (trust me on this one!).
3. Eat something.  Believe it or not, having something in your stomach will also help you to avoid seasickness.  Don't go crazy, but something bland like a bagel with butter or some toast with peanut butter is a great way to start a day off at sea.  Also - if you start feeling sick - best to nibble on something very simple like saltine crackers, as this too can help fight the nausea.  We keep Rasmus stocked with saltines for this very reason.
4. If you are prone to seasickness, stay above deck in fresh air.  Some people will be fine while they are on deck and the minute they go down below, they will quickly return ill.  If you can avoid going below, do.  Trust me.  
5. Avoid reading and anything that requires small motor skills.  On a boat that's bouncing around in rough seas is no time to play scrabble on your iPhone.  This is like an instant puke button for those who are prone to seasickness.
6. Lay down, on your back, near the center of the boat.  For some reason, I think laying on my back is always best if I feel a little queasy.  Also - you want to try and stay toward the center of the boat if you can as that is the steadiest part of the boat.  Stay away from the v-berth!  You will be bucking and bouncing like crazy up there.  Find a nice sea berth and close your eyes.
7. Avoid strong fumes.  Nothing will take a person from nauseous to puke like a good whiff of burning diesel.  Try to avoid!
8. Steer the boat!  A good captain will always hand over the helm to someone he thinks might be suffering from seasickness, it's an almost instant cure.  For some reason, staying busy and concentrating on something simple like steering does wonders for a ill tummy.
9. Swallow your pride.  Denying that you feel sick is NOT going to make you feel better, in fact, you will only slowly get to the point of no return.  The minute you think you might be getting ill is the time to tell the captain and ask for a remedy.  What will hurt your pride more, asking for some dramamine or loosing your lunch over the rail?

As I mentioned, there are many great medications available nowadays and from what I hear from cruising friends who need/use them - they work great.  Some are available over the counter, others via prescription.  Here are a few of the best according to our research:

• Dramamine - this is the one medication we have aboard and it works great for mild cases of seasickness.  Take it about 30 minutes before you shove off and you should be good to go.  It does make you a little drowsy, but drowsy is a lot better than pukey.  Dramamine is widely available at drugstores and marine chandleries all over the US.
• Scopolamine Patch - Scott and I have never used these, but apparently they work well - especially for people who suffer more severely and for whom Dramamine doesn't work.  You've seen these before - they are the little round patches that go behind the ear so they work well for someone already sick since nothing must be ingested (once seasick, pretty much nothing will stay down rendering any oral medications useless).
• Bonine (Meclizine) - Again, Scott and I have never used this either - but we have friends who swear by it and love it.  This is also available over the counter and seems to be slightly more effective than dramamine.

There are also non-medicative solutions such as wristbands, but according to Mythbusters, these do not work well at all so I have not included them here.  Although we do have four ReliefBand's on board and have had people use them, I can't really say they have been super effective.  I also very strongly believe that, by and large, mild motion sickness can be dealt with mentally.  When we would take out friends, the ones that looked out and said, "Oh man, I'm going to get sick" did, in fact, get sick.  Try to think positively and remember the power of suggestion!

It's also important to note that some of the greatest sailors in the world are prone to seasickness.  For most people, the nausea will work itself out after you get your "sea legs" after a few days - and for others, there are ways to deal with it so you are comfortable!  Don't let seasickness keep you land-locked, just find what works best for you (it might be a combo of any of the above) and stick with it.

What is your best remedy for mal de mer natural or otherwise?

Love,

Brittany & Scott

Hurricane Ivan

The face of Grenada was forever changed when Hurricane Ivan slammed into the island with winds that reached up to 120 mph on September 7, 2004.  Obviously we were not here at that time, but if you ask a local about it - they'll recount it with a sorry shake of their head like it was yesterday.  It absolutely devastated the island - demolishing 90% of homes and leaving most of the population homeless.  It ripped away trees, land, and the livelihoods of even more.  The damage was not only physical, Grenada suffered terrible economic effects as a direct result of Hurricane Ivan as well and still to this day the country, particularly the agricultural sector, is trying to regain it's footing.

Being from the midwest where we don't typically deal with or pay much attention to hurricanes (or tornadoes, tsunamis, earthquakes or landslides), it is hard to imagine this kind of destruction.  While, on the surface, Grenada has bounced back very well - there are still plenty of reminders of nature's wrath on every street.  Piles of cinderblock rubble where a house once stood, a roofless abandoned store front with blown out windows, the outline of structures that once stood proud now overgrown with foliage. The church pictured here is one of my favorites, proving that there can still be beauty in mayhem and destruction.  Buildings like this are everywhere in downtown St. Georges.  While many think Grenada is far enough south to be considered "safe" from the hurricane belt, Ivan is a solemn reminder that nature doesn't always follow the rules.

The "Hurricane Belt" compliments of The Advanced Aquarist

"Nature understands no jesting. She is always true, always serious, always severe. She is always right, and the errors are always those of man." 

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Love,

Brittany & Scott

Top 10 Tuesdays: Top 10 Worst Nightmares of Cruising Sailors

A run-in with one of these is definitely something you want to avoid at all costs.

It is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles; if you do not know your enemies but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one; if you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperiled in every single battle. - Sun Tzu

As I've mentioned on this blog before, I've read my fair share of "disaster at sea" books.  You name it - I've probably read a book about it: dismasting, sudden sinking, slow sinking, losing power, losing crew members, losing limbs, hurricanes, rogue waves, and more.  More than anything, I think I learn from books like these.  I think they give me that very healthy, very necessary respect for the sea and what it is we are doing.  I think that respect is vital to successful cruising.

These books also made me wonder, "What are the very worst things that could happen at sea?"

This question, coupled with a little help from John Vigor, brought me to today's Top 10 List:

Top 10 Worst Nightmares of Sailors

1. Dismasting - losing the mast on a sailboat is bad.  Very bad.  It usually occurs in inclement weather and usually due to rigging failure (which is why it is so very important to spot check your  stays, shrouds, turnbuckles and all other connections regularly for any signs of disrepair).  A mast can also be lost during an aggressive 360-degree roll and, depending on your type of mast - can also occur due to rot (in the case of wood) or a weak spot in the aluminum or whatever else your mast might be made of.  Unfortunately, it can also happen seemingly out of nowhere.  Scott and I carry heavy-duty cable cutters for no other reason than to cut free the stays and shrouds that hold the mast to the boat, because if a mast goes in the water in heavy seas, it has potential to punch a hole in the boat and make a very bad situation worse.  Read here on how to be better prepared if faced with dismasting and to read a story about an actual dismasting and what the crew learned, read here.
2. Dragging anchor into a lee shore - I'll never forget the site of a 35 foot sailboat completely crushed on the rocks in the Berry Islands in our first days in the Bahamas.  Apparently, the gentleman who owned the boat got caught at anchor in a nasty gale coming from the "wrong" direction and ended up dragging into a (very rocky) lee shore.  He scrambled on deck to set another anchor while simultaneously trying to start his engine.   They say the worst disasters are not when one thing goes wrong, but when a series of events go wrong.  My dad always says one problem can be dealt with, two is more difficult but throw in a third?  You're in trouble.  In a horrible twist of fate, this man's new anchor line got wrapped up in his propellor, rendering his engine useless.  Anchor Dragging + Lee shore + Engine Failure = Tragedy. He dragged onto the rocks and within minutes his boat was holed and sunk, a total loss.  It was devastating and haunting to see a boat that had been sailing only a week before, derelict, abandoned and broken on the rocks.  Lee shores are not your friend.
3. Losing your keel - This is also in the very, very bad category (especially for a monohull).  The keel (the 'fin' underneath the boat) is the part of your boat that keeps it upright - it's what prevents the pressure of the wind on the sails from pushing your boat over into the water.  When newbie guests come on board and ask "are we gonna tip over?"  it's your keel that is making sure you don't.  There are many different types and styles of keels out there, but (in my opinion) the most susceptible are the bolted-on fin keel boats.  Running hard aground, hitting a large submerged object (like a whale or a container - more on these later) electrolysis around the bolts or a poor attachment can cause the keel to fall off and when it does, most boats will immediately capsize.  The keel on Rasmus is a "modified full keel" (meaning it runs nearly the full length of our boat) that is structurally built into the hull of our boat.  It's also 6 inches thick.  While our keel can certainly be damaged, it won't "fall off".  We know, we hit a submerged rock going 6 knots and barely put a ding in it.  To read the tragic account of a boat that did not fare so well, read here.
4. Hurricane - Scott and I (on this trip) have been in 35 knot winds.  Maybe 40.  Let me tell you, it's not fun.  The seas are usually very big, visibility is compromised, the wind howls through the rigging making the most anxiety producing sounds, the boat becomes very difficult to control and you can feel the power of every gust trying to knock your boat over...I honestly cannot imagine what being in wind that is 80 knots or more must feel like, and I hope that I never have to.  I read a book a while back called "At the Mercy of the Sea" by John Kretschmer which is a heartbreaking true account of three separate boats that got caught in hurricane Lenny in the Anegada passage here in the Caribbean in 1999.  It paints a very vivid picture of what it is like to be in such a storm.  No bueno.
5. Leak in the water tank - This one applies only to boats who will be offshore for weeks at a time, but it still bears mentioning.  Fresh water on an ocean passage is just as critical for survival as a sound boat.  Run out of food, and you can survive weeks - even months.  Run out of water and, if your lucky, you have a week.  If it's really hot, days.  Water is secondary only to oxygen in terms of survival essentials for the human body and if your water tank springs a leak or gets compromised mid-atlantic, you are in trouble with a capitol T.  If doing an ocean passage - it's best to have an emergency back-up bladder of water enough to give each crew member an adequate amount of drinking water per day and NEVER rely solely on your watermaker!
6. Lightning strike - few things cause as much unease to an offshore sailor as lightning on the horizon.  When you are a sailboat on the water, you are pretty much the tallest thing around and we all know how opportunistic lighting is - it prefers to travel the shortest distance.  The mast of a sailboat is the perfect conductor and will essentially become a lightning rod.  Depending on how severe the strike, a myriad of things can occur:  your boat's entire electronic suite will (most likely) be completely fried beyond repair (no more chart plotter for you - hope you have a sextant or backup GPS!), it can blast a hole right through the boat, start a fire (more on that later) and/or it can cause death to any unfortunate crew member who came in contact with the voltage.  In other words, it ranges from bad to worse.  Try your very best to avoid it and, if you find yourself at sea in a lightning storm, take the precautions listed in this article.
7. Life-threatening injury - There is no 911 on the water.  You are, literally, taking your life in your own hands when you venture offshore.  I know that sounds a little dramatic, but it's true.  There are many potential hazards on a boat and I've read and/or heard first hand personal accounts of everything from heart attacks to lost limbs, massive head injuries to severe burns.  All are very bad.  Back in the old days, around-the-world sailors used to get their appendixes removed before the journey just in case it was a ticking time bomb waiting to burst at sea.  Pete Goss had to operate on his own arm during the 1996 Vendee Globe race (his book, Close to the Wind, is excellent).  Getting to medical help while sailing can be days or even weeks away and even then, it will probably not be the kind of care you are accustomed to.  Extreme caution must be taken for your health and your well being.  Scott and I carry an Offshore Marine Medical 3000 kit and Scott is trained in basic first aid and CPR, but a more comprehensive medical course would be best.
8. Fire - I've written a little about fire in an earlier post - but it is still worth mentioning.  Unfortunately, boat fires are not uncommon at all.  In fact, Scott and I saw a boat burn right down to the waterline due to a citronella candle back at our home marina in Chicago.  But candles aren't the only thing causing fires.  Over half of the fires on boats begin because of faulty electrical wiring and/or poor installation.  Considering most boaters totally mystified by their electric systems this is no surprise.  While it certainly doesn't make us immune, we are very grateful to have had a certified Marine Electrical Engineer help us throughout our refit process to make sure we did everything the "right" way.  Rasmus is completely up to code and if we keep a close eye on her, she should remain so.  For more on what causes fire on boats, check out this article.
9. Collision/Hole in the boat/Sinking -  This is the trifecta of 'bad' on a boat and I've combined them all because they seem to occur together (but not always) and collisions at sea, particularly with submerged animals and/or containers that you cannot see play on the imaginations of most cruising sailors I know. I recently read an account of a boat sinking after a run-in with a pod of whales.  Luckily, everyone on board survived.  The boat?  It sank in about seven minutes.  I also read 10 Degrees of Reckoning by Hester Rumberg which is the devastating story of a women who lost her husband and two young children when their boat collided with a tanker during a storm.  Her boat sank in under five minutes.  Ever read Steve Callahan's Adrift?  He has no idea what his boat hit when he was in the North Atlantic, but he knows he hit something and he barely had time to get up on deck before his boat went down.  Bottom line:  Boats that meet objects below the waterline can sink scary fast.  Be vigilant with your watch schedule and have emergency plans in place.  We have a life-raft as well as an Epirb ready to deploy in a moments notice in our cockpit.  Hopefully, we'll never need them - but they are better than nothing in our opinion.
10. Falling off the boat - My very worst nightmare is to come up on watch and have Scott not be there.  Even typing that is difficult and I can't think about it without getting choked up.  In fact, this very thing recently happened to a couple sailing in NARC rally from Newport to Bermuda.  Absolutely horrific.  The first (and most important) rule on our boat is: Don't fall off.  It's that simple.  Whatever you do - stay on the boat.  If you do fall off, you can probably assume you are dead.  When underway, Scott and I never leave the cockpit without waking the other and we have jack-lines and tethers that we can use to attach ourselves to the boat if necessary.  If you fall off the boat it could be hours before your sleeping partner realizes it and by then finding you is near impossible.  And falling overboard during a storm?  Even if your partner knows you have gone over - finding a person in six foot waves in the dark is like finding a needle in a haystack, trust me.  Stay. on. the. boat.

Well, that was depressing.

I don't know about you but I am spent from this energy-sucking morbidness, but like I said, I think it's important to know these things, we can learn from them and hopefully benefit from those lessons.  

I promise to post a more lively and funny blog tomorrow to make up for this. 

Love, 

Brittany & Scott

Top 10 Tuesdays: Top 10 Lessons Learned during our first BIG Caribbean Squall

Not "our" squall, but a squall - just off St. Georges, Grenada

Scott and I have sailed in our fair share of nasty weather - if you want to live at sea, it is nearly impossible to avoid completely and knowing that we will have to weather a few storms is the price we pay for a life less ordinary.  This past week we think we might have sailed in our nastiest weather yet when we got completely clobbered by two monster squalls on our return trip home between Carriacou and Grenada.  Luckily, we are both much better sailors than we were even a year ago, and we took it in stride, largely because of our solid boat and Scott's expert boat handling skills (and -okay - I'm not too shabby myself).  A separate post will be up tomorrow morning describing the squall in greater detail, but for now - here are some things we learned:

Top 10 Lessons Learned During our Worst Caribbean Squall

1. The old adage of "don't be on a schedule" still rings true!  ...but sadly, when it comes to having guests it doesn't always work to abide by this rule.  Scott's Mom had to fly out Monday and Sunday's forecast was the same as Saturday's so we decided to go for it on Saturday.  We knew we were taking a risk, and prepped the boat accordingly.
2. Caribbean Squalls come up on you fast and don't always blow right over.  We have been through a bunch of squalls over the course of this last year, some last 5 minutes some last 25 minutes.  This particular one seemed never ending and I recall thinking at the apex of it, "later tonight, this will just be a story when we are at our slip, this will end...later tonight this will just be a story..."  but 25 minutes of really nasty weather is like an eternity!
3. Prepping the boat for heavy weather is important.  Like I mentioned, we knew we were heading into some weather so our boat was stored with extra care.  Everything battened down, any items that might fall in an extreme heel were pulled down and put away, our veggie hammocks were bungeed securely so they didn't swing wildly and so on.  We checked all items on deck and made sure they were lashed down properly.  The last thing you want when you are going through a hellish squall is to have your boat become a disaster area when all of your belongings go flying.
4. Having safety gear within arms reach of the cockpit should be a necessity.  We put on our life vests after we realized the severity of the first squall and we have all our safety gear right in the cockpit, within arms reach of the helm.  Trust me, the last thing you are going to want to do in a nasty squall is go down below and rifle through a locker to get what you need.  Better to have it near, better yet to have it ready ahead of time.
5. Shorten sail early.  Again, because we have the luxury of forecasting assistance from Chris Parker  we had a good idea of what we were in for and went out with our main double-reefed (our main has two very deep reefs, not three like some other sail plans).  It would have been near impossible and INCREDIBLY dangerous for us to reef when that storm hit us (our lines do not run aft, meaning one of us has to go forward to the mast to reef).
6. Driving rain can be blinding.  We experienced almost total white-out conditions.  The tops of the waves were blown right off and, at one point, the sea went almost flat.  We were SO thankful to have AIS and radar to know that we were not in the traffic line of any other boats.  If we had been, there would have been no way to see them until it was too late.  Not to mention in those conditions, controlling the boat becomes difficult at best.
7. Heaving-to works.  Though I hate to admit this, we had actually never done this drill until we had to.  This is not ideal as some boats do not heave-to well and it can actually take quite a bit of practice to master.  During a squall like the one we were in is no time to practice, but luckily for us it worked perfectly and our boat speed was reduced from 7 knots to about a half of a knot (which is more or less the point of heaving-to, for more information check this out).
8. Severe squalls are scary, no matter how good of a sailor you are.  They just are.  And it's not scary because of what is happening, necessarily, but because of what could happen.  A boat in winds of 30 knots and over is under an incredible amount of stress.  You pray that you don't lose your main sheet, that your jib car doesn't give, that your stays don't snap, that someone doesn't slip overboard...in a situation like we were in, any of those circumstances could be dire.  A squall we can handle, but a squall with a boom wildly swinging in the wind or a line wrapped in the propellor is another story all together.  If you aren't concerned with any of these things in a severe weather situation, you are either more confident than I am or stupid.
9. A boat really can lay on her ear.  At several points we had our entire railing in the water with salt water gushing into the cockpit and, while we were not completely on our ear, we were closer than we've ever been before.  I think it was at this point that Scott made the call to heave-to.  The next morning, Scott's arms actually felt a little sore from the workout he got to keep the boat in control.  
10. Having a crew who knows what they're doing and a boat you can trust is everything.  The fact that our boat has proven herself again and again, and the fact that we put so much TLC into her and maintain her with such care really pays off in a rough weather situation.  In addition, I trust Scott implicitly and he is truly a fantastic sea captain - I cannot imagine being at sea in a severe weather situation with someone with less expertise.  We work very well together as a team and as long as we are in our sturdy little boat, we feel confident and safe.  I've said it again and again, but take care of your boat - and she will take care of you!

Love,
Brittany & Scott