Monthly Archives: October 2020

Day Dreaming

Sometimes it feels like our years traveling in the Caribbean were just a dream. The present, with its mundane tasks, disrupted community, bad news, and “stuckness,” seems very real, while the life of adventure, beauty, and travel, far away. Therein lies the danger of nostalgia: to feel discontented in the present by glorifying the past. But I know that there were hardships, boredom, and loneliness there, too. That’s just life, the good with the bad. I woke up to a fourth day of rain, so no doubt my mood is affected by the wet, gray days. 

Rainy Days, Marathon
Rainy day, Marathon, 2020

I feel like Puddleglum in C.S. Lewis’s book, The Silver Chair, a prisoner of the Queen of Underland:

“Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things-trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we’re leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that’s a small loss if the world’s as dull a place as you say.”

I know there is More. Bigger. Brighter. I’ve seen it, I’ve been there, and I’ve communed with other travelers in the Sunlit Lands. As I work on a second revision of my memoir (which feels as if it shall never be complete), I am reliving the memories, and whether I dreamed them up or not, I will allow myself to spend some time looking at pictures and longing for the beauty of the world. The rain will no doubt pass, and sunny days come again. I stored these memories for just such a dreary moment.

Rainbow, Prince Rupert Bay, Dominica
Rainbow, Dominica, 2016

Some random adventures mined from our flickr photostream

Bubble Bath
“Rachel’s Bubble Bath,” Bahamas, 2016
Mahi Catch
Sam with Jay and fresh-caught Mahi, 2016
Rachel, Leaving Anguilla
Rachel, sailing past Anguilla, 2016
Perch
Eli, St. Lucia, 2016
Sarah
Sarah, passage to Colombia 2016
Tanya with Big Tree
Tanya, cloud forest of Panama, 2017
Stingray City at Sunset
Family, sunset in Grand Cayman, 2018
Swimming with a Whale Shark
Swimming with whale sharks, Utilia, 2018
Waterfall Aaron 1
Aaron, waterfall in Jaguar preserve, Belize, 2018
Hiking Pacaya 1
Pacaya Volcano, Guatemala, 2019
Wakeboarding Lake Isabal
Wakeboarding, Lake Izabal, Guatemala 2019
Cenote Fun
Cenotes of the Yucatan, 2019

Galley Refit 2020

In the spring of 2008, we bought a custom wooden catamaran built in the Netherlands in 1991 named Take Two. This is what the galley looked like:

Original Galley (2008)
First view of galley, December 2007

We lived with it for a couple of years so we would have time to think about what we really wanted/needed in a galley. I love food preparation and spend hours each day in the galley cooking homemade meals and baking bread and goodies from scratch, so this is an important part of our life afloat. It’s why we chose a boat with a galley-up instead of galley-down (in the hull). If I’m going to be in the galley, I still want to be a part of the action.

What we loved was the light and space; what we hated was the Bosch electric cooktop (50 hz) that required a generator run for cooking, the small marine fridge and freezer, the dishwasher, and the grey formica countertop. After our first cruise to the Bahamas in 2010, we came back to Florida for a refit after Rachel was born in spring of 2011. We switched to marine plywood/teak veneer countertops, standard-size propane gas stove/oven, and AC under-counter fridge and freezer. We got rid of the dishwasher, build storage drawers and installed a washing machine under the chart table. It was a significant improvement.

Galley (since 2011)
Galley Refit 2011

It was beautiful and functional, but not as durable as we needed. The appliances lasted 9 years before rust started to affect the stove’s safe operation, and the moisture around the sink caused the countertops to rot. I was sad to see the pretty wood go, but the new solid surface countertops are really beautiful! I love the new stainless outdoor-grade refrigerator and freezer, the new stove/oven with extra safety features, and the undermount sinks with integrated draining board. This will (hopefully) be our last upgrade!

Galley (refit 2020)
Galley Refit 2020
New Undermounted Sink
Undermount stainless sinks, integrated draining board to the right
New Fridge/Freezer
U-Line Stainless Fridge and Freezer
New Stove/Oven
Unique Stainless Stove/Oven with Cast Iron Grates

For more photos of the demolition, before-and-after shots, and details, click here (or any photo) and it will take you to our flickr photostream. So far, so good…I’m really enjoying the new galley!

New Oven Interior
First batch of cookies in the new oven!

Pep Talk #22: Shelter From the Storm

What is peace? And where can it be found? Maybe you, like me, are asking these questions a lot right now. We certainly know what , and where, peace is not.

Tobago Cays Squall
Approaching squall, Tobago Cays , SVG

I’ve learned a lot about peace from the ocean. If we have a “peaceful” passage, it usually refers to the sea state: a gentle swell, a nice breeze and smooth sailing, sunshine sparkling on the water, maybe a pod of dolphins playing in our bow wake. Or it might indicate the condition of our crew: no one suffering seasickness, everyone occupying themselves and getting along well with each other. Likewise, a peaceful anchorage is a quiet respite from the motion of waves, the promise of a good night’s sleep at the end of a long day.

But sometimes “peace” is what we have despite circumstances. In the middle of storms at sea, I have felt an amazing inner calm (after the initial panic, of course)—I understand that the situation is dangerous and that my life is fragile, but can accept with tranquility whatever may come. Peace can also mean running from a storm and finding an anchorage in the lee of an island. The wind still howls, the rain pelts, the lightning flashes all around, but our anchor is buried in the sand, the motion of the waves is stopped by the island, and our boat is still afloat. Despite the noise of the storm, we can relax.

For me, inner peace is a supernatural occurrence—a state contrary to my normal, anxious, internal monologue. It’s a sense that no matter how bad a situation is, I don’t face it alone or without hope; I have an anchor for my soul. It takes conscious effort not to focus on the outward circumstances, but to take a deep breath, pray, and change fretting into meditating on the positive. This has helped me access this peace-in-the-midst-of-chaos. I still have an embarrassing tendency to freak out, but I’ve learned to pause and find this place of peace with a little concentration.

Many times over the last few months I have had to draw on this well of peace—as I see and hear of turmoil both around the world and close to home. Chaos reigns on personal, social, and political fronts, but I have not lost the hope of peace. Sometimes after receiving bad news, it feels like my anchor is dragging, but in life, as on the water when we experience a sudden shift in wind or tide, I reset the anchor in a firm place, pay out some chain, and go back “inside” to find rest.

Take Two Anchored in the Bahamas 2016
Take Two at anchor in the Bahamas, 2016

I don’t know whether you are experiencing a personal crisis, whether you are feeling isolated or afraid, whether the country you live in is experiencing disasters natural or man-made, but I know that we are all touched by the storms of life at one time or another. We can seek and ask for peace—inside our own hearts, with God, in our relationships, and in our spheres of influence. We can pray that our leaders will seek peace. Maybe circumstances will change, or maybe we can effect change ourselves, but if not, then the only thing we can control is our response. Let these words anchor your soul as they have anchored mine:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” –Jesus, in the gospel according to John (14:27)