Being Aware of Wares, Where, Wear and Tear, and just how Little I Wear….

After spending only a week on the mainland, we skipped along the southern coast of Puerto Rico to Vieques to meet up with my sister and our good friends Sean and Shea.  This was the first time anyone has come visit us on this trip, and the first time we've had anyone else on the boat aside from Ashley.  There's nothing like having visitors come and live with you, and inviting them into your world,  that makes you realize just how different your world has become.  I guess it never dawned on me just how much things have changed, how I have changed, because every time I go home, I'm transported back into my old life, my old world, and quickly re-adapt  One of the biggest things that has changed, is that I've become more aware.  Sounds a little silly, but living this lifestyle, you have to be hyperaware of everything.   Something as simple as being aware of a hatch being open, or even something left on deck.  Being in the hands of nature, you start to see that there is a direct consequence for everything that you do… or don't do.  You leave a hatch open, chances are you ruin anything under that hatch when the daily tropical rainstorm comes along.  You leave something unstrapped on deck, odds are in favor of you losing it when the wind picks up, or when the waves build and rock your boat.  Having guests over makes you realize just how much you subconsciously do to avoid these little "inconveniences."  (Hmmmm….ironically as I'm writing this post, I'm hearing a pan-pan from the coast guard on the vHf of someone's 51' sailboat being thrashed on the rocks on western Culebra because his mooring ball drug while he was having lunch down below, shit…)  

Explaining to your guests things that need to be done and fearing that you are sounding a bit like a neurotic control freak when you're telling them how to properly flush your Lavac toilet, not to throw toilet paper in the bowl, not to leave things on countertops in case it gets rolley, to put everything away from deck before going to bed, and to shut off fans when you leave the room to save power.   Keeping things neat and orderly has become a priority for us as there has been more than a night or two where we have been nearly  thrown out of bed at 3am because of a sudden onset of a violent squall with stuff we left out, like dirty dishes, flying all over the boat.  Realizing that we are now so much more subconsciously hyperaware, that we wake up at any unusual sound or movement, and tripping over our guests sleeping soundly as we get up instinctually to check for the source of the mystery sound.  It's funny, we are so much more in touch with nature now that we are even able to gauge the windspeed just from the sound of our wind generator with incredible accuracy.   We have routines in which we get up every morning, shut off the anchor light, check  our power consumption, go up on deck, look around and see our surroundings to see if we dragged, check on the dinghy…so on. Being responsible for all these little things as well taking ownership of your actions and inactions deeply changes your perspective and relation on things.  You start think about things more thoroughly, not just in terms of your living space, but you start to apply that notion to other parts of your life as well.  In a way, you simply take more direct responsibility over your life.  That's not to say that this is necessarily a good thing as it can just as well turn you into a paranoid, anxiety ridden nutcase. I suppose, just like everything else in life, there needs to be a moderate balance of awareness, as well as care-freeness.  Speaking of care-freeness, having guests on board also made me realize just how often I am naked without even realizing it.  Oops, haha.  I suppose that's just another side effect of living on a boat…

Aside from all that deep philosophical stuff, we had a great time with our friends and my sister.  Sean ended up staying for about 10 days, while Shea was only allowed a brief 4 day stay.  My sister was with us for close to 3 weeks.  In that time, we took Sean and my sister to Culebra as well as St Thomas, where Sean flew home from, and my sister stayed on an extra week, while we sailed back to Vieques to meet up with her boyfriend (now fiancé…he proposed on the trip :)  We took them on some dive adventures where they got to got see coral that they wouldn't have been to access without a dinghy.  We showed them what it was like to sail from island to island.  We did some spearfishing and found some conch.  It was awesome to see my sister  adapt to this life so quickly, and take to it.  She really loved the simplicity of our life as well as being surrounded by nature, and says that she already misses the boat.  I'm happy as that means that she will be wanting to join us again in the near future.  Yay!

Sailing to Vieques…

Shea and Sean

Sister sister...

Goofing off in St Thomas...

Island hopping

Diving under the pier in Vieques

My sister the mermaid

Uni

Freediving

First pic of Frank and I both spearfishing

Sean spearfishing

Octopus Frank speared and I cooked…(first time ever
preparing octopus!)

Culebra

The Black Box

Have any of you heard of this idea of the Black Box?  No, no, not that box.  The box I'm referring to is an old mystical, sailor theory that every boat possesses an imaginary black box.  Every time a sailor does something seaman-like, he pays a coin into this box.  An aquatic, karmic bank account of sorts that one can draw from when shit hits the fan.  Now this box accepts an infinite amount of coins, and the more you pay into it, the more you can draw from it when you really need it.  This can be anything from changing the engine oil when it's due, to doing engine checks before starting it, to keeping the lines neatly coiled on deck, to climbing the mast to check your rigging, to varnishing your teak, there are countless ways to earn coins.  This explains why some people go through huge squalls with no injury to their beloved boat, while others suffer dis-mastings, torn sails, and so on.  

Since owning Moitessier, we have rigorously abided by this idea.  Well, Frank more than I as his personality tends to lean more towards obsessive compulsion than mine.  But regardless, we have tried at every opportunity to put coins in our account and so far it's really paid off.  Now this leads me to think about how this idea can be applied to so many things in life.  That perhaps there needs to be different Life Boxes of sorts.  In this case, a piggy bank for relationships.  More often than not, living in a such a small space, Frank and I fight over what is important to us in terms of Moitessier as a whole.  We have different ideals as to what level of messiness we can handle on the boat, how we like our space to be, and so on.  We get so caught up with being seaman-like and paying into the black box, that we forget that we also need to pay into our Life Box.  This can be anything from random acts of kindness, like picking up after someone without nagging them about it, saying thank you when they make you a meal, a back massage when they are tired, a hot chocolate when they are on watch, letting them sleep an extra 1/2 an hour during your watch.  These things after 13 years of being together are sometimes overlooked.  This theory primarily goes back to mindfulness, being mindful of how your partner feels, being aware of the things that your boat needs in order to keep you safe. The more mindful you are of their needs, both your partner and your boat, the more coins you accrue in your boxes.  The more coins you have, the more likely you are to weather some emotional squalls when you need to. The more "lifeman-like" things you do for one another, the stronger your love and the stronger your bond.

With the new year ahead of us, and most of us setting impossible resolutions, I found that this is a very interesting way of looking at life in general; whether it be your personal goals, fitness, career, whatever it may be, the more little things you do towards these goals, the more likely you are to succeed.  Ultimately, it comes down to the basic principle of taking responsibility for the things you value and the things that are important to you.

Friends with Benefits

Midnight here at Staniel Cay, never thought I'd be back here again so soon after our last epic adventure.  We've spent the past couple of weeks with our new friends on Sailboat Furminger.  We met them back in St Augustine, and like us, they are a young couple that sold everything to live on a boat to learn the invaluable lessons that Poiseidon grants us all when we decide embark on this lifestyle.  We had convinced them to join us in the remote Berry Islands, and what fun we have had.  Weeks have been spent spearfishing, partying, laughing, talking, and getting to know one another.  I often forget to mention this on our blog, but one of the most glorious things about boat life are the people you meet.  The friends that you make on boats are none like the ones you meet on land.  Somehow, no matter where you are from (they are french canadian), you almost always instantly bond.  Perhaps it's because those you meet out here are often times like-minded wanderlusts who understand that though this life may seem like paradise at times that it's always a challenge.  Maybe it's because we are on remote islands and we have no one but each other.  The closeness you feel to these friends, even when you've only spent a couple weeks with them is indescribable. This feeling of community and understanding, of what's mine is yours, and no matter what I have your back is so rare that it makes you want to continue to meet more like-minded folk.  We give to each other what we have, and likewise, and there is no counting who paid for what, who's food is who's, who did this and who didn't, because out here, none of that matters.  It's odd to be thinking about these things because in our western society, we all have a proclivity to keep tabs on what we gain from one another, but in this world (at least how Frank and I live), there is no such thing.  Don't get me wrong, not everyone is this way, but when you do meet others that have the same philosophy of communal living as you, it's like taking in a deep breath of air after a 30 ft dive.  

This lifestyle can certainly take a toll on you, the constant hangups, the shit that breaks, the weather that is incessantly challenging your testicular fortitude, the loneliness, the isolation of not having people around you that care about you, the feeling that no one understands, the loss of who you think you are because suddenly you are this tiny little speck of a unit in a little home you call your boat on the big, bad ocean.  I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful little shit, but sometimes, I just want to be normal.  I want to want the things that everyone else has…stability, a comfy salt-free bed, cable television, access to a supermarket. These aren't things that you would say to your landlubber friends who seem to think that your life is a dream come true.  These aren't the things that you would say because let's face it, we are living a dream, waking up every day in paradise, but who's to say that living your dream is necessarily a fairy tale?  These things your boat friends understand because, well, they've been there.  They've been scared shitless, they've vomited into a bucket during watch, they've had petty little fights, they don't think you're crazy for wanting to put a gaff hook in your partner's throat…they understand.  I often bring this topic up in my ramblings, but it's so very true that living in this way forces you to face up to you and who you really are and make you question every thing about your life and what you want from it. There is nothing here to hide behind, and every day you are faced with the choices that you make and the things that you do or don't do.  You simply have too much time to face up your own demons, and sometimes who you think you are is not exactly who you are at all.  You discover that you can't overcome everything, that you can be weak and troubled, and sad, and that it's ok.  That you can be an ungrateful little shit in paradise, because well, that's just who you are.  

Gotta love the Berries….

Trigger, grouper, grouper, grouper, testosterone…

Love this couple...

Dinghy rides…..

Nurse Sharks at Staniel Cay 

Another one bites the dust…

Thunderball Grotto

Another young couple we met in St Augustine on
 a boat…..meet Cameron...

Me, Jackie, and Dani….boat ladies

Our version of Xmas lights this year…

On a side note….I got the most touching email the other day from a complete stranger that simply warmed my heart and brought tears to my eyes…hello Phil.  It made me realize just what I have and how far we've come, and though I may bitch and whine, it made me realize how different I am from 5 years ago, and how much I'm just the same. Same old optimist, same old over thinker.  Thank you for reminding me of how much I have and how far we've come.  It's readers like you who inspire me to continue to be candid about my life and honest about this journey.  I try hard not to candy coat things because we all tend to do that when we write about our lives, and perhaps it's a coping mechanism, but thank you for encouraging me to continue to write about the "gritty truth"…Thank you for making grateful once again for the life I have and the life I chose.