You may not have known it when you woke up that morning—the day that was different from all the rest. If you had somewhere important to be, you may have suspected its significance, but without the benefit of hindsight, you may not have known that it was one of those pivotal, life-changing days. Later, you’ll look back and point to that day as the day it all started.

December 8, 2007 was just such a day for our family. We drove to Fort Lauderdale to look at a boat. Just that, nothing more. We had convinced ourselves that it was risk-free to go look. Anybody can fill their gas tank and drive across Alligator Alley. We don’t have to actually buy a boat, we said, or sell any of our belongings, or take any big chances. These are the white lies that dreamers tell themselves. 

What we did not know then, but can see looking back over the last three years, was that that day began a chain of events that led to all the major changes we have documented here. Three years after we innocently went to look at a boat, we are living aboard full time and cruising in another country. It all seemed so slow while it was happening; sometimes we seemed to make so little progress it even felt like we were moving backwards. But if hindsight is twenty-twenty, then it is also compressed. We see perfectly how very quickly that one day began to change everything.

From the moment we stepped aboard her, Take Two began to work on us. She has endeared herself more and more with each passing day, with each memory we make as we become more and more at home on the water. It is true that anyone can “just go look”—anyone can have a dream, but not everyone follows through. We did, and we have no regrets.

Yesterday I got to do something I have always wanted to do. I can’t say that I keep a “bucket list” per se (i.e. things I want to do before I kick the bucket), but I definitely have an unwritten list of things I want to accomplish in my life. Some are realistic goals, some fantasies.

I have always wanted to go kayaking. It seemed like something mysterious and difficult, something done by adventuresome people who climb mountains and go backpacking. Our friends Amy and Ken in Marathon found a leaky kayak adrift and left it in a trash/recycle pile on their property until they could figure out what to do with it. It was Amy who first demystified kayaking for me—it’s pretty simple, as long as you have the right equipment. She will be happy to know that the discarded kayak has found new life aboard Take Two.

Jay towed the kayak behind the dinghy and dropped Eli and me inside a shallow bay to go exploring and we met up with them later a couple miles further south. It was hard work at first, as we were paddling against a current on an outgoing tide, but after awhile it got easier. Aside from dropping the camera overboard at some point—an irretrievable loss—it was a beautiful and perfect day. Eli and I saw lots of upside-down jellyfish, starfish, rays, hermit crabs, and miles of lovely wilderness. The best part was at the end, when we found the exit. The current that we fought at the start carried us right out—we drifted silently over a shallow garden of coral and multi-colored seaweed. Jay was waiting at the other side and we enjoyed an effort-free ride back to the boat.

Today after my chores were done, I launched the kayak by myself (usually Jay helps) since the kids were off with their dad exploring a cave. I had a great time puttering around in Little Harbour, going places a dinghy with an outboard cannot. It is so quiet here, so peaceful, and so beautiful. I feel so unbelievably thankful for the opportunity to be here. And for that old, leaky kayak!

I may be playing a little “he said, she said” here, but I just read Jay’s post about future plans (see "Go South?") and was simultaneously writing my own post.

My greatest fear at the moment is not shipwreck or shark attack. Ironically, all my fears before going cruising have turned out to be silly, and the things I thought were trivial have turned out to be important. Connecting with people has turned out to be a big one. I never realized how much a place is about the people and not the geography. What if we don’t make  any friends here? (And why are most cruisers middle-aged—having grown children or none at all?) I knew I would miss friends and family, but didn’t know how much, especially when there is some kind of crisis going on at “home.” What if something happens while we’re away and I can’t be there when I need to be? The big one, though, is about going backwards. We’ve made so much progress in so many areas. We see the children’s growing sense of responsibility, the closeness of our family as we go exploring together, and our own expanding competence and confidence. Plus, we've covered a lot of miles. What if we allow the birth of this baby to ground us, and we never make it back out here?

These “what ifs” have answers. Usually they never come to pass. Of course we’ll make friends; we always do. We just have to commit to sticking around long enough to do so (as Jay already said). The second fear is a very real one, as we do have family members in crisis, and I can’t be there to help. It’s very frustrating. There are other family members who can pick up the slack, and I can do some very important “prayerful work” as my friend Betty used to say. But I have to choose. Saying “yes” to one thing always means saying “no” to a thousand others. We are following a dream, and that costs something. Nobody said it would be easy.

The last fear, and most often on my mind these days, is that if we go back to Florida, we may never leave again. Life has a way of sticking it to you, and we barely escaped last time. How can one ever be truly ready to leave on an open-ended voyage? And how much more difficult can that be with a baby in tow? But it we’re already out here and add a new crew member, we’ll be forced to adjust. Ironically, I am not really afraid of having a baby in a foreign country without friends or family present. I probably should be, but I’m not. Maybe as delivery draws near and I have to figure out the logistics, that will hit home, but maybe not.

The truth is, we’ve been so busy basking in the success of buying the boat, living on the boat and actually cruising (not to mention getting used to the idea of a new baby) that we haven’t thought much about the big picture in a long time. We used to talk about sailing around the world, but that was back when this whole boat thing was a pipe dream. Now we’re just happy to be out here, but adding a crew member adds urgency to our future planning. We have a dilemma: go back where it’s comfortable and we have a support network, where we speak the language and can find anything we want in stores, and risk getting stuck; or travel indefinitely, have a baby on the go, and possibly do great things we might not otherwise do.

Fears are not easily dismissed. I manage to get a good night’s sleep because I refuse to worry—allowing God to take my days’ worries and giving Him tomorrow’s as well. Only He knows all the answers, anyway. But fear has a way of nagging when you least expect it. The dilemma we face is one we will pray about, think about, talk about—and write about—for some time to come. Who knows how it will turn out? Like many what-ifs, time usually reveals the answer. In the meantime, peace comes in daily doses, and that’s something for which I am grateful.

So far our favorite settlement in the Abacos is Hope Town. For me, it was the grocery store and coffee house that did it. After searching for healthy foods in small shops on every island, I found things like brown rice, whole wheat flour and even (my favorite from home) Springer Mountain chicken (a roaster was $20, but compared to eating out, that’s not bad). I made it on a day when the ship had just come in and found fresh produce. Best of all, Harbor View Groceries is right on the water, so I can pull my dinghy up to their dock and load up easily. I went for a bike ride and got to see a lot of the area. I found the coffee shop in an old house that had been beautifully renovated, so I stopped for refreshments. It has a beautiful view of the candy-striped lighthouse on the other side of the island, and their menu rivaled any Starbucks.

For the kids, it was the park, complete with a newly-built playground, climbing tree, and lots of other playmates. Within minutes of arrival on shore, the older two were involved in a game of tag with local boys and Sarah and Sam were on the tire swing. Jay went to scope out dinner joints and I just sat and chatted with other moms. They also liked the Sugar Shack, where we had ice cream after dinner, a rare treat.

Although there was no large hardware store (like in Marsh Harbor), Jay also liked the feel of Hope Town. If we go back to spend more time there, I think we would anchor outside the harbor, so we could have a little more privacy (and a great place to swim) with the benefits of civilization just up the channel.

This is a brief overview of our trip so far:

Day 1: In transit, lovely sail through the night.

Day 2: Arrival on the Bahama Banks, quick (cold) swim. Spent the night somewhere in the middle of a shallow, watery desert.

Day 3: Motored through glassy seas, greeted up close by dolphins. Arrival at Great Sale Cay, explored by dinghy and spent the night.

Day 4: Wild and wonderful sail all the way to Green Turtle Cay. Double reef in the main, 20-25 knots of wind. Often 8-9 knots of boat speed. Listened to loud music and generally had fun.

Days 5-8: Checked in with Bahamian official and explored Green Turtle Cay by dinghy and on foot. Found a great little grocery store (Sid’s) and met Sid and Martha, proprietors. Went to the museum and sculpture garden; got a different perspective on the American Revolution as settlements here were established by loyalists who sided with King George instead of George Washington. Had ice cream and bought our first loaf of Bahamian coconut bread (yum!). Walked to the Atlantic side and found beautiful beaches with unusual shells and sea life (star fish, conch and sea cucumber among the finds.)

Days 9-11: Move to Great Guana Cay, north end. Disappointed to find mega-yacht in man-made cove and big construction projects on pristine beach. Very pleased to find small, uninhabited island with good beach, tide pools full of sea life, and nice hiking for small explorers. Snorkeling on reefs on the Atlantic side—the best we’ve ever experienced. Thanksgiving Day spent playing in water and on beach, eating turkey and having family movie night.

Days 10-12: Investigated Marsh Harbor. Found coin laundry—perfect for washing the comforter soiled by seasick cat. Appointment with Dr. Minnis, O.B., and got ultrasound of new baby girl. Jay found a great hardware store, but Tanya ran out of time for re-provisioning at big grocery store. Went to Curly-Tails Restaurant and ate great sea food (but lousy steak).

Days 13-14: Move to Man-O-War Cay to check out protected harbor. Decide it’s too crowded, but kids had fun playing in ocean waves on Atlantic side. Successful shop at grocery store on Monday—right on the water so the groceries went straight into the dinghy. Cool. Moved the boat to more protected anchorage to the north. Rest of the day rainy and windy, excellent for movies and baking cookies. Kids hoping for better weather so they can swim again. Me too.

She says she already knew that God answers prayer, because that’s how Eli got Sam for a baby brother. So she never doubted for a second that if she prayed for a sister, eventually she would get one. We had our 20-week ultrasound this afternoon at a clinic in Marsh Harbor, Abaco, Bahamas. The baby has a four-chambered heart, two-hemisphered brain, two legs and two arms, and all the organs are developing as expected. In fact, there is only one thing missing from this baby—a certain “extra” that is only given to baby boys.

That’s right—Sarah has gotten her wish for a baby sister. Until the end of April, there will be many a debate at dinner time over what to name the newest addition, but I think at this point we can cross off Tom, Dick or Harry. We may pick one boy name on the off-chance that the technician was wrong (she says the predictions are usually about 80% correct), but Sarah has her hopes up, and a smile on her face. She came with me to the clinic and was the first one to shout out, as the dinghy approached the anchored boat: “It’s a girl!”

I, for one, feel relieved to have accomplished the feat of finding an O.B. in this remote place, making an appointment (he only comes to Abaco Island from Nassau once or twice a month), finding the office and walking there, and getting the ultrasound done. I feel like I can now relax and enjoy myself more as the weight of that responsibility has been lifted. It is always a relief, as well, to hear that healthy heartbeat and to see that everything is going well inside there. What an incredible mystery! And what a privilege to be the bearer of a priceless gift—and an answered prayer, for my daughter.

It was an unusual Thanksgiving here for us on Take Two. The food was traditional, but the surroundings were definitely different! This was the first year in as long as we could remember that we were far from family and close friends…you were all missed! Sarah helped with all the preparations, including a pumpkin and an apple pie, and beautiful decorations. All had a hand, though, as everyone was required to peel at least one potato if they wanted to eat!

We spent the day relaxing and preparing, but mostly relaxing. The kids were off school for the day, so they played while I baked. In the afternoon, Jay inflated the pull-toy. This was a new diversion, and a popular one at that. It looks like a giant covered inner tube with a long tow line. Jay would zoom out in the dinghy across the smooth, crystal clear water pulling one or two kids behind him. I sat on the beach under an umbrella and watched the fun from afar.

We are thankful for so much that it is hard to name just one or two things, but the big ones are life, family, the ability to pursue our dreams, and the amazing beauty we see around us. We, like the pilgrims, are thankful for another years’ “harvest,” as God has again provided Jay with the income it takes to fuel these adventures. He has brought us safely into this new place and with good health to enjoy it. Though they are far away, we know we have family who love and support us, and that is no small thing in this crazy world. Every day brings new wonders and surprises—and more for which to be thankful! We hope you all had a very Happy Thanksgiving, too!

Typically, when people move, they pack up their belongings, load them into a truck and drive to the new house. They then unload their stuff, put it all away in the new location and get to know the neighbors. When we move house, we mean that our house is actually moving. “Packing up” has a different meaning for us. (Chiefly, it means packing every square inch of storage space with food and spare parts!)

One major difference between a catamaran and a monohull is basic stability. Catamarans want to be level, which is to say that they have a strong righting moment. To reach this balance, they may make shorter, jerkier movements than a monohull, but the end result is that they are a basically stable platform. My countertops don’t have fiddles, for example (the raised edges to keep things from sliding off.) That doesn’t mean things don’t slide, though. I’ve figured out through trial and error what must be put away and what I can leave out. (Cantaloupes have to be put away.) A monohull can spend hours, or days at a 30˚ angle or greater. They have things like gimbaled stoves and pot clamps. Not only do they heel, but they also roll. Their movement is often more rhythmic and predictable, though, so some people prefer them to cats for that reason.

How does this affect the house when it moves? If you live on a monohull, all the cabinets and lockers have locking mechanisms. Everything must be stowed carefully and locked away before leaving the dock or anchorage. If your boat is your house, this can be daunting. For us, although there is a place for everything, not everything is always in its place. If we want to go somewhere with our boat, though, we just make sure nothing is precariously balanced or poised to cause injury or damage. Then we go.

When we left Boot Key Harbor, the seas were a bit rowdy. I did more than one walk-through of the boat trying to make sure we had stowed anything that might become a projectile. I was pleased to see that the shelving Jay put in my pantry keeps my mason jars safe in pretty rough chop. We had neglected to completely stow everything in the cockpit and on deck, but after things calmed down a bit, we were able to do some last-minute tidying-up.

So now the house is moving. When we get to the next anchorage, we won’t have much unpacking to do, so we can skip straight to exploring and getting to know the new neighbors.

It is true that our kids have the benefit of being raised in a spontaneous and fun environment, with opportunities for adventure and exploration. However, the predictable and routine activities of childhood are sometimes missed—things like boy scouts, gymnastic classes, music lessons, or team sports. They may get these “extras,” but they will have to be on our schedule and fit with our family rhythms. Sometimes this works out perfectly. For example, we took a ten-week beginner ice skating class for homeschoolers when we lived in Clearwater. Sarah had the opportunity to take riding lessons last spring as part of her birthday present. Here in Marathon, we found free music classes for children at the United Methodist Church, and that has been great as there is little obligation.

But doing a team sport is a horse of a different color. Firstly, the practices inevitably overlap the dinner hour, a sacred time for us, and eat up weekends, preventing spontaneous boat trips. Then there is the expense of specialized shoes and uniforms. Of course, every kid is on a different team and you end up running around like headless chickens. Finally, the atmosphere of competition can make something intense which should be (in my opinion) fun and relaxing for children. We don’t need any extra stress at the end of the day. So, until now, we have steered clear of things like soccer, basketball, and football. But when the opportunity arose to join in “pick-up” games of kickball on Friday nights at the local park, I ran it past the children and they responded enthusiastically. There is no sign-up, no cost, and no record-keeping. You just show up and play.

It has become the highlight of my week! With the bread baked, boat clean, and dinner prepared early, our day of rest has begun. What better way to start the weekend than with a time of family fun? The first week, Sarah bailed out after the first play of the game, and since they were short a few players, Sam joined in. The players are supposed to be ages 6-11, so, at 3, Sam is a bit young. I stayed nearby to coach him on kicking, running and stopping at the bases. After he got the hang of it, he was unstoppable. Literally. The adults helping out never let the kid be “out.” If he kicked it and ran, it didn’t matter who tagged him, the umpire shouted “Safe!”  All he talked about for the rest of the week was how much fun kickball was and when could he play again?

The weeks since have brought much improvement in play. As all the kids get the basics, the game moves a little quicker and everyone seems to have more fun. Our kids have the added benefit of having extra practice time at Homeschool P.E., another program the Marathon park puts on during the week. Last night, there were lots of kids and the game was fun to watch. Sarah joined in and got three runs for her team, plus a great play when she tagged someone out at first base. Eli and Aaron both got in some good kicks and runs, as well as fielding the ball, and Sam kicked well and made it safely to every base.

I usually laugh myself silly in the stands, and cheer the kids on, but last night had us rolling and crying. At some point, Sam got tired of playing infielder and started making his own fun. He started by turning circles until he got dizzy and fell down, then moved on to headstands and forward rolls in the grass. By the end of the game, he had corrupted another small player and the two of them were rolling around by the pitcher’s mound, occasionally impeding play and being told to “roll back over there.” Then they started building sand castles out of red clay, completely oblivious to the game going on around them. At one point, the ball rolled right between them and someone made a comment about kicking the ball between “the two goal posts.” In a culture where children’s lives seem so scheduled and organized, it’s good to find a time and place where kids can have some spontaneous, old-fashioned fun.

We typically eschew the un-holiday of Halloween. Although I recognize the pagan roots of other holidays, like Christmas or Easter, they have at least been tamed down and been made meaningful. Halloween, on the other hand, holds absolutely no spiritual meaning for our family, and has even lost its usefulness as a “cultural” holiday. We did the trick-or-treat thing for a couple of years when the boys were small, but we even stopped taking trick-or-treaters when truly gruesome creatures started coming to our door. We don’t really like things that celebrate fear and death, not to mention gorging on sugar. So we have ignored the holiday, spent that night out at anchor, or gone to “Fall Festivals” that have nothing to do with Halloween.

But this year, we decided to start our own tradition. People all around us expect a boatful of children to be dressed up and going out begging for candy, so we did the unexpected. We baked pumpkin cookies and putted all over Boot Key Harbor in the dinghy delivering treats to friends’ boats. They were so surprised and pleased—the kids got more pleasure out of the happy responses than they ever would have out of a bucket of candy. Really.  They didn’t come home empty-handed, either, as one friend ducked back into his cabin and came back with beads (leftovers from Fantasy-Fest in Key West) and candy and granola bars for the kids. Nothing’s better than an unexpected treat.

It was fun, took the focus off of what everyone else was doing, and gave us an opportunity to leave things better than we found them, so I think we’ll do it again next year if we’re in a place that does Halloween. I have included the cookie recipe here, but I take no credit for it—I owe many thanks to my sister-in-law in Atlanta for her yummy treats.

Soft Pumpkin Cookies
Prep time: 1 hour
Makes: 3 1/2 dozen

1/2 c. sugar
1/2 c. brown sugar
1 c. butter (or 1/2 c. butter + 1/2 c. coconut oil)
1 c. cooked, puréed pumpkin (canned is fine)
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 egg
2 c. flour (whole wheat is fine)
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
3/4 c. chopped nuts

Cream butter and sugars. Add egg, pumpkin, and vanilla; mix until creamy. Whisk together dry ingredients; add all at once to pumpkin mixture. Add nuts if desired. Bake at 350˚ for 10-12 minutes. Frost when cooled completely (or, for a glazed cookie, frost when warm).

Cream Cheese Frosting: 1/4 c. cream cheese, 1 c. powdered sugar, 1-2 T. milk. Soften cream cheese, add sugar/milk alternately until mixture is spreadable.