Demon the Cat. Far and away, Demon has been the quickest to adapt to boat life. She’s happy in her cat-bed, has found joy in exploring all nooks and crannies, is enjoying the view and the night-time catting on deck, growling at passing boats and seals, and settling in quite nicely. Granted, she has spent more than half her life aboard boats, but after so many years away from the water, she found her groove awfully quickly. Which is much more than I can say for the rest of us.
The past almost-two-weeks aboard has not been easy and has had a lot of ups and downs. I have, admittedly, focused more on the downs than the ups, because they are all-consuming, but out of ashes lush forests and new flowers can emerge. Here is a fair attempt to lay out a balanced synopsis of weeks 1 and 2 (from my perspective) and some words of hope for what lays ahead.
Most Challenging Thing: A three year old with poor listening skills, no sense of self preservation, a class clown personality, and a tendency to push everyone’s buttons. Maybe I should rephrase that: A three year old. Period. Andy has been hard. And spending so much time disciplining, teaching, reprimanding, reminding, scolding, reminding again, disciplining again WEARS ON THE SOUL. But this is not unique to a boat; this is parenting a three year old. One big difference now is that we’re doing it 24-7, whereas before we only had morning/night/weekend duty. The other difference is that on a boat it might be a matter of life and death. When he stands on his tiptoes and leans over the side of the boat because he wants to see the bow wave more closely or grabs the pilot house steering wheel while you’re undocking, not listening to calls to STOP is not an option. So, we’re doing a lot of teaching. That word seems too gentle to convey the tone of our voices and the exasperation we feel. And yet, when I asked Andy what was his favorite thing so far about living on a boat, he said “all the love.” And so I melted. And so I will do my best to be strict and unswaying, but make sure that “all the love” is still there. Because sometimes it has felt like it isn’t.
Most Rewarding Thing: Seeing Dylan come into his own on the boat has been incredibly rewarding. Despite a few difficulties, he seems to be at home here and is absorbing everything, including nautical terminology, sea animal behavior, and even moving around on deck. And seeing the kids’ imaginative play is wonderful; they pretend that lines have been cut to the radar, they rig up nets to catch bad guys in, they practice tying knots and building boats boats with wings. It’s also rewarding to seeing them exploring ashore. No beach goes left unexplored, and every beach-fort is supplemented with the kids’ drift-wood tillers and solar panels. For my own part, I am enjoying reading. I haven’t done as much as I wanted, but I am rediscovering print books and enjoying the relationship with the printed page again.
And: ORCAS! We got to see a pod of orcas, which, yes, even if you are from the Pacific Northwest, is still a very special treat. This is the first time that we have been out on Korvessa and seen them, and we couldn’t have been more happy to catch a glimpse of the beautiful creatures. And, in truth, I also got a lot of joy out of seeing a flock of little goslings and a family of huge river otters, so the reward and joy is not reserved solely for the large animals.
Most Surprising Thing: Despite all the frustrations, I feel good being back on a boat. I like the warm, cozy spaces. I don’t mind the limited space in the galley. I like having varied views and new neighbors with every move. On the negative side of surprising, I simply thought I would have more time. I thought I would have more time to write. I thought I would have more time to read. I thought I would have more time to study Spanish or organize the boat or make lee-cloths or study cook books or exercise. None of that has happened. I seem to spend all my time cooking, cleaning, and disciplining in between shore trips. Yes, that has to change, and that will take my own self-discipline.
Most Frustrating Thing(s): The first few days of overloaded, unorganized boat mode was very frustrating. We didn’t know where anything was, struggled to figure out where everything would go, and were tripping over bags, shoes, and clothes every fifth step. Now that we have organized the galley, the bedrooms, and the sauna (our storage room), and taken a large load of unneeded stuff back to Anacortes, we are in a much better (and much less frustrating) state.
Second, boat heads (toilets) are notoriously difficult, and we are all struggling with the tight spaces and residual smell that we just can’t seem to kill. It took the kids some time to get used to boat head, but I think we’re there. Similarly, we are having growing pains with our kitty box and its perpetual smell. It currently lives under the settee in our dinette, which is a good place for it, but we have discovered that the pads that come with the Breeze litter system do not last a week as advertised; we are luck to get three days out of them. Maybe our cat is just really well hydrated. And so, we will continue to experiment. Instead of using cat pads which produce lots of trash, we’re hoping to use a corn-based litter as a base that is excellent at soaking up liquid and will control odor better. Stay tuned.
Third, our ice box is deep, and though we now have it much better organized, it is still a task to retrieve something from the bottom, which involves not only sticking your head halfway into the icebox, but getting icebox cooties all over whatever piece of clothing you’re wearing. Something to get used to. There are many things to get used to.
Ahh… speaking of which, there have been a lot of head bumps, and back bumps, and knee bumps, and (frighteningly) two eye bumps, because moving around on a boat is simply harder than in a house. Plus, it moves. None of us has been immune to those bumps, though Andy has suffered the most, and I only hope he will acclimate soon.
And then there’s the regular everyday parts of cruising: We’ve enjoyed some beautiful anchorages (Cypress Head, James Island, Deer Harbor, Echo Bay on Sucia Island, Patos Island, Friday Harbor, and on to Reid Harbor on Stuart Island tonight. We’ve met so many people along the way and love talking with them about their own passions and plans. We’ve started a little boat school (officially just an hour a day at this point for the sake of having a little structure), but of course the kids are soaking up much more than that. We’re still trying to figure out our timing with how often we’ll need to dump trash and recycling or head into a marina. It’s a little more often at this point because we have not caught our stride yet. We’ve had otters play on board at night (not welcome), crows get into our trash on deck (also not welcome), and seals poke their curious eyes up to follow us (very welcome).
It’s been a hard couple of weeks. I can’t pretend there haven’t been moments where I haven’t questioned what we’re doing. What I’m doing. There have been tears. But in the depths of frustration, anger, and, frankly, fear, I have learned a few things and reflected on a few things. I’ve learned that I need to do a better job to take some time out for myself – especially for exercise, but also for my own quiet time. I’ve learned that the kids need at least a little screen time to help calm their over-stimulated brains and emotions. In conversations with friends, I’ve been reminded and have reflected on the fact that change isn’t easy for anyone, 3-year-olds included. I’ve learned that habits don’t change all at once, even if you want them to. It takes time, it takes discipline, it takes patience in yourself and others. So, we move on to the next few weeks and months with some hope, a few deep breaths, lessons learned, new perspective, and lots of support and understanding. Let’s do this.
