“Have you sold your Cruise-a-home yet?” someone asks me. “YES!! Yes we have! And let me tell you how all the puzzle pieces fell in to place for our new sailboat!!”
After almost three years of living aboard our amazing 1976 40’ tiny floating home, we finally transitioned onto the next phase of our adventure. Patience and timing have been everything. After waiting three years on a list for an end tie slip, our turn finally came. The day before we put an official offer on the sailboat, we acquired a 58’ end tie slip in South Marina! Amazingly and thankfully the whole boat buying process went smoothly for us. The vessel had been on the market for a year. We actually walked through it the previous May, and had been patiently waiting for life’s puzzle pieces to fall into place. January 26th, almost three years to the day we started this nautical lifestyle, we cruised home in our new Transpacific 49 we’re naming, Royal Way. Immediately we moved aboard and are enjoying making her our new home. She’s beautiful with solid teak and 1980’s craftsmanship. We now enjoy three staterooms. Joy and Arianna share the forward split V-berth stateroom, which creates a bunk for each of them. Felicity and Caleb share the midship bunk room with extra vanity and hanging locker. A spacious wet-head rounds out everything forward of our generous saloon. My favorite amenities include the warm glow of our Dickenson propane fireplace, a ginormous fridge and separate large ice chest (later freezer), and my new galley drawers. Ryan now has a navigation/office station and walk-in engine room complete with workbench. Lastly, besides enjoying a boat with two heads, Ryan and I finally have a Master Cabin to call our own!! Sleeping on the kitchen table is now reserved for the one day occasional guest instead of nightly for us!
In my previous post I mentioned a poem called “Love grows in Little Houses.”
“Love grows best in little houses with fewer walls to separate. Where you eat and sleep so close together, you can’t help but communicate. And if we had more room between us, think of all we’d miss. Love grows best in little houses just like this.”
Interestingly enough, with the addition of separate staterooms with walls and doors between, our children became more short tempered, grumpy and possessive than when they all shared a common space. For three years we were so used to working together literally on top of one another, the current personal separation into ‘rooms’ still feels a little awkward. Change feels that way though…awkward.
I remember telling Ryan, “I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I feel like a part of our adventure will begin sooner than we expect.”
And then the COVID-19 crisis happened.
I always wondered what emotions I would feel when the momentous moment finally came when I unwrapped the lines from the cleat, climbed aboard, and Ryan pulled our vessel away from the dock.
Honestly, with the current situation, as we pulled away from the dock, I felt my anxiety blow away with the wind, replaced with deep breaths of fresh salty air. I had peace. I had confidence in my husband’s ability to captain our vessel and keep our family safe. I had confidence with my adaptability to use our provisions appropriately. I had confidence our family would adapt gracefully to whatever came our way. I had confidence we were finally in a vessel that could take care of us anywhere we went.
For forty peaceful days we stayed home, on anchor, away from mass population. Ryan was able to work from home on reduced hours. Our kids continued their homeschooling, like normal. Thankfully the biggest change was climbing aboard our dinghy morning and night to take our dog to shore since he refuses to go on our boat. We were on our own little isolated island of peace. Through this time, we bonded with our vessel. She became a heartfelt, safe-haven, home.