Author Archives: Melissa

The Top Five Fears

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When people find out we are planning to move aboard Galapagos and go sailing on the ‘big water’ across oceans, the first thing people generally say is, ‘Wow’, frequently followed by, ‘Aren’t you scared?’.  And the answer to that is, ‘Oh, hell to the yes!’.  But probably not for all the reasons they might think.fear-clipart-clipart-fear-face-icon-512x512-92a3

The fears generally listed by these well-meaning folks include whales, the boat sinking, rogue waves, storms, pirates, sharks… you know the routine. I like to remind them that due to the fact that I live in an urban area with freeways more congested than a smoker’s heart, I play odds worse than any of those things every day when I drive my car. I also fly to distant lands on airplanes even though…9/11. Go figure. So while those kinds of fears can pop up, they are fleeting at best and my ability to put things into perspective tamps down any panic that might try to surface. No, those things do not deter me particularly. We’ll be as prepared as we can be, as careful as we can be, and we’re already good at turning tail and running from bad weather and things with large teeth, so our self-preservation skills are high.

And yet, I live with a certain amount of trepidation, if not fear and loathing, about this huge life change. These fears are always hanging just out of reach over my head. I cannot seem to put them to rest completely, although I do have plans that mitigate these fears. These are the things that could keep me up at night if I gave into them. Since people are always asking, here are the top five of my inner most secret fears and the steps I’m taking to mitigate them.

See this guy? I’m not afraid of him. Not even a little bit.

Number 1:
Getting out of my comfort zone. And I’m not talking about sailing. I’m talking about being a dumb American. Truth is, I am a dyed in the wool American with deeply held beliefs that reflect that heritage. I am an individualist to the core, I love my Starbucks, I have a very comfortable middle-class existence that, on the whole, is pretty easy.  I speak only English. I am a walking stereotype in so many ways and don’t I know it.

Mike looks forward to learning Spanish. We are planning to do Spanish language school down in La Paz.  It would be politically correct to say that I look forward to this, too.  But that would be a lie because languages are not really my strong suit. On the other hand I do not expect people to speak English in a country where that is not their native language, so I’m going to have to put on my big girl panties and just do it. Why can’t I just get some kind of Spanish language chip inserted into a slot in my head?

Also, although I am an American, I am smart enough to know that means that the most basic things I believe to be true about life are not necessarily shared by people in other countries whose cultures are less ‘individual’ based and more ‘group’ based, less ‘throw caution to the wind’ based and more ‘mitigate all probable outcomes’ based. I don’t want to be that crass and egotistical American that always expects things to be just like at home. (I mean, why bother to travel if it’s all going to be just like at home, right?) I am just smart enough to know how ignorant I am. So I’m listening to a university course on using cultural intelligence to adapt to being in other countries. It’s a great course which I would recommend to anyone who is interested in learning some of the basic differences between world cultures. Maybe I won’t embarrass myself too much.

See that little door? It’s narrow. For small people.

Number 2:
Gaining weight. That’s right. What is actually worse to me than being culturally obtuse is being physically obese. My body and I have not ever worked well together. Several years ago, when we first started planning for this phase in our lives, I decided I needed to become more comfortable in the old bod because living on a boat is no fun when you literally have to squeeze through the passageways. I had to give up many of the foods that people rely on around the world, like wheat and sugar. I can eat wheat on occasion now, but if I eat it regularly I’m in trouble. (It causes physical symptoms beyond weight gain for me.)

Thus began a long period of learning, healing, and working with this physical thing I live in and through.  For the first time in my life I am at a weight that pleases me, I can wear clothes that please me, and I have the tools I need in order to maintain this overall happiness with the body I was given. Some people would think that this fear is frivolous and vain. They would say ‘just accept yourself as you are’. But ‘accepting’ this tendency of mine is how I ended up 50 pounds heavier than I am now  with plenty of joint pain to boot so no thanks.  No, if I want to live a long and healthy life and not have to give up the things I love to do, like easily fit into a kayak, and climb around on a boat, then the weight must remain off the body and my diet must remain clean with an occasional indulgence.

I have worked very hard at this for many years, and yet each time we take a trip on the boat, I gain weight. This is because I see it as a ‘vacation’ from my normal life,  eat crap food filled with carbs and sugar, and drink beer. This will never do.  I cannot be a cruiser who lives on rice, beans, tortillas and beer. All those cruiser social functions you read about on blogs? They leave me with a horrible mixture of excitement for the social aspect, and dread for the ever-present foods involved.

To make my physical self happy, I  depend on walking at least 2 miles every day, and doing yoga in a sweltering hot studio a few times a week. (Should have no trouble in the South Pacific, right?) My body is a finely tuned instrument. I have begun honing my “weight maintenance while traveling skills” and I am ready to put them to the test during our cruise in July. I’ll blog more later about what has worked for me and what hasn’t and this will help keep me on track.

The one important trick your doctor doesn’t want you to know about if you want to maintain your weight anywhere you go and still live a full and interesting life filled with delicious foods? Take your scale with you. Use it every day. I have this Nature Spirit travel scale. It works and it doesn’t take up much room. It is my best friend.

Our son, Andrew, graduated from Western Washington University last week.

Number 3:
Missing my family. This is pretty much self explanatory. My darkest scenarios include something happening to a child or my mom when we are in a remote area and can’t easily get to an airport.  I soothe myself by calculating the odds in my head. Calculations will put me to sleep every single time. And we keep a high balance of travel points on the credit card in case of emergency. That’s all I can do. Because out of all the fears, this one would actually keep me at the dock if I let it, even though the kids are grown. Even though our daughter is only in this country 6 months out of the year. Even though our son lives in Bellingham. It’s not rational. It’s maternal.

Mr. Sun.

Number 4:
One or both of us not being able to tolerate the sun. I actually worry about Mike in terms of this more than about myself because he has had some symptoms that I worry are reactions to too much sun. Yes, we know how to use sunscreen, we have a hard dodger that will protect us from sun and weather, etc. We will invest in good sun prevention. I still worry.

On our Cal 34, Moonrise, I felt like a confident partner. I remind myself that it took awhile for that to happen.

Number 5:
Not being an equal partner on the boat. At home, we are pretty equal partners in terms of decision making, spending money, all the day to day things. Our roles in the house are both clearly defined and fluid as the situation mandates. We both have our projects and interests, and we do very well at parallel play.

Being on the boat changes things. Mike is truly in charge on the boat and that means that I am…not.  As much as I love our boat and love sailing, this trip is pretty much Mike’s rodeo in terms of the day to day operation of the boat.  I worry know that I am not a good follower, even if he is a good leader. Being a ‘follower’ is not my nature. We are two leaders, sometimes both trying to lead and getting in each other’s way, usually because the fact that I should be ‘following’ doesn’t even occur to me. So while Mike can step easily into the role of Captain on the boat, I’m not yet sure what role I will be stepping into. I need time on the boat – continuous time- in order to flesh this out and get comfortable on her and learn her systems before I can do much more than set a course, steer, and tweak a sail or two. I think that was starting to happen last year during our vacation, but then we had to come home.

Fortunately we have a good marriage from which to begin this trip, and for both of us the marriage is more important than pretty much anything else. So we’ll work through these things. We got a heads up on what our challenges would be during our trip last year bringing Galapagos home. We’ve gone over a few of our experiences with each other since then and worked out solutions to those problems. We’ll get a chance to practice a lot during our July cruise.

We’re counting down the days!

The Home Stretch

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It is June 2015, a month that, on paper,  appears to be mild-mannered; a month during which we should be gradually moving into my most favorite of seasons: summer. But this appearance of casualness on the month of June’s part is a fat lie. Underneath its soothing, floriferous veneer, there is nothing at all sedate about this month of June. This June does not clutch an iced drink with languid fingers.  No, this year June is life in fast-forward. It is the roaring fiery furnace of an early summer. It has come out fighting with weather in the mid 80’s and a garden that is so confused it thinks August is on its way out. I guess that is nothing if not poetic.  Things are coming to a boil in the Little Cunning Plan house.

It’s like this: We have 12 months before lift off. Twelve. Months. Crap. That was fast.

Typical Scottish weather at Newark Castle

We are seriously freaking out just a little. A shit lot of things have to come together in the next year in order for us to gracefully leave the dock for this trip. Please recall that due to Suddenly-We-Feel-Old Syndrome, we’ve moved up our departure date by an entire year.  I would like to feel excited about that, but what I really feel is overwhelmed by all the things that need to be done to dismantle a life and create a new one. I’d make a list here, but why should you be overwhelmed, too? Things like writing Last Will and Testaments come to mind. Still, ready or not, it has begun.

Onward!

Life in the fast lane started while I was away in Scotland playing tourist with my mom. (And please enjoy these photos from our trip because, why not?) Mike disconnected the land line for my fax machine (for my business) and our home phone.  He didn’t cancel the number, he just lived without that land line for awhile, trying it out for size because we’ve had the same home phone number for 25 years and he felt weird about canceling the line. Our son Andrew has never had a different home phone number in his life. Mike finally cancelled the account completely and we have, of course, not missed it. The small pain we felt was an emotional attachment to something that gave us a perceived feeling of permanence. Now we can multiply this process by 1000ish to get some idea of what is in store for us as we disconnect ourselves in the coming year from the life we have been living for decades. Ugh. I guess if it were easy everyone would do it? So they say.

Orchard House, on the estate where we lived for 2 glorious weeks.

Claire and Dan are coming home from Scotland for the summer so in getting their room ready, I was forced to reckon with clearing out a chest of drawers and the buffet. This produced several boxes of stuff for the estate sale. It was a dandy good feeling with only minor qualms as I included a big box of professional books that I used to keep in my office. Some of them are out of print now, that’s how long I’ve been around. Whatever. Out they go. However, when it came to the box of momentos from Claire’s birth 30 years ago, I was stuck. Didn’t even open it. I’ll have to do it, but not this particular minute. That box is seriously different than a lousy phone number. It remains in the middle of the floor, unmolested.

By January I am going to have to seriously consider retiring because I will need that time to focus on getting the house in order. Why didn’t anyone tell me how hard it was going to be to retire? I’ve been toying with the idea of retiring from my long career as a psychotherapist for the last 2 years. But when you’ve done something for 28 years, it’s not that easy to just walk away. Just when I think I’ve had enough, I decide to keep my hand in the game a little while longer because I’m still having a little fun with it. And also because we need the money.  Now I’m having to get serious about quitting. So July will see the end of accepting new insurance clients. Oy vey. It’s scary. I can hardly cotton it. I have worked since I was 16 years old. Please tell me I’ll be glad to be free of my private practice. And that we can make it without the money.

Scotland is like a postcard around every corner.

To avoid complete meltdown we do have a bit of a sketched out plan of attack. We’ll have our cruise in July, then in August we’ll begin clearing out the house and have a big estate sale. Or two. Our tentative plan is keep our house. Decision making about what to keep will be easier. We will also be able to store some stuff here, which will save us from having to rent storage space.  I am breathing a huge sigh of relief that we have decided to keep the house because this is a great property, a good investment, and offers us a bit of security in terms of a ready-made place to live on land if we decide we hate it out there. (Unlikely, but who knows?) I like to hedge my bets, not being much of a gambler by nature.

Rooftops as seen from the tower at Yorkminster, which is in York, England.

Our one fly in the ointment is our dog, Skippy. Skippy hates the boat and is 12 years old. He is not a spring chicken but he is still very healthy and has a lot of living yet to do. We were hoping Andrew could have him up in Bellingham, but no one wants to rent to someone with a dog. This is a shame because Andrew loves little Skippers and would like to have him. I am depending on Providence to offer a solution to this at the right time.

This is a wind meter found in Lindisfarne Castle. Could we please have one of these on Galapagos?

This is a wind meter found in Lindisfarne Castle. Could we please have one of these on Galapagos?

If all goes as planned and no big curve balls are thrown our way, we will take the summer next year to circumnavigate Vancouver Island. We are both really looking forward to what will amount to a leisurely shake down cruise. If all goes well during that cruise, we haven’t hit major snags in the plan, broken the boat, or killed each other in our sleep, then we will continue south in the fall of 2016.

I fell in love with this little Norman church outside of York.

You’ll notice how I’ve said ‘if all goes well’, and ‘if no big curve balls are thrown our way’? That because as all good sailors know, plans are written in sand and sometimes the water of life is a complete bitch. And we know it. Still, it’s happening now and I sit in my house on a beautiful summer day when the garden is in full force and think how lucky I’ve been in my life to be able to make these choices.

Restored and decorated in a medieval style in the mid 1800’s by the land owner. It takes your breath away when you go from the plain, almost unadorned exterior to the sumptuous beauty of the interior.

 

 

Life Goes On

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It’s been pretty hard to move on from our last post on this blog. Somehow, putting another post on the front page to replace that last one felt wrong for quite awhile, as though it meant we were moving on with our lives and the loss of little Kitty meant less because of it. Of course, that’s completely wrong. We will never forget her sweet wee face and the way she charmed us with her own special brand of magic. She has earned a permanent place in our hearts.  But life does progress even when we are grieving, so here we are.

Scottish coastline.

All kinds of things have been happening down at Galapagos. Mike has finished the fridge installation and now we are just trying to learn the ways of this little blue machine. The problem? It’s too cold. Yes, it has been hard to keep the fridge side of the space above freezing. We hope it’s just a matter of learning the ways of the machine, but really, how many cruisers do you know who have a fridge that works TOO well? Yeah, that’s what I thought. There will be a fridge post with all the gory details later when we’ve figured out exactly how to make this thing freeze on one side and just be cold on the other. Meanwhile, we still cannot say enough about the customer service at CoolBlue. We’re not worthy. Seriously.

Our focus now is to gear up for our trip this summer. We are both totally excited and ready to go NOW. Long time readers may recall that last year , in 2013 (Whatt??),  on our Cal 34 Moonrise, we planned to go to the outside of Vancouver Island and were schooled by mother nature, causing us to abandon that plan. Fast forward (I’m not kidding!) two years and we’re ready to give that another go on Galapagos, a faster, heavier boat with better systems for dealing with the west coast and its squirrely weather.

We had some great sailing on that trip. Race Rocks around Victoria area. Zoom!!

This year Mike has a full 4 weeks (after giving of 19 years of his life to the Boeing job) of vacation and I’m scheming ways we can parlay that into an extra few days. So we’re going to try again. He has dreams of making it north of Barkley Sound this year. I have dreams of just making it. Period.

So we are doing things to get her ready. I discovered the satisfaction of using a small power washer on the deck. Why did I never do that before? Sure, I looked like a homunculus for a couple of days after spending a few hours with the extended arm of the power washer, but it was dead worth it. Goodbye nasty winter scum! And no soap of any kind required. It’s totally coming with us when we go.

But the big event was the installing of the name on the hull. I ordered the vinyl lettering from Boat US for Christmas and it has been sitting in the V berth awaiting warm weather.  Galapagos has a hull painted with AwlGrip and you could still see the shadow of two rounds of lettering on her hull. I wasn’t sure what kind of product to use to get the oxidation off of the paint without compromising whatever finish is left on the old girl.

Left side: after polishing. Right side: before.

Left side: after polishing. Right side: before.

I found the answer on the Albin Owners group;  a product called Finesse It, by 3M. This product did not let me down. It took a goodly amount of elbow grease and two applications, but the result was completely worth it. Unfortunately it makes the rest of the hull look terrible by comparison; kind of like painting one wall in a room.

Ready, set, GO!

With that finished, and the fridge installed and cold, even if it is close to freezing all the foods, we have nothing to do but live all the life there is to live until our usual July departure date.

And there is plenty of life going on. This week I travel to Scotland again; this time taking my mum along. This is my second trip and last year Claire and I had a bit of a rumble with the Gods of Scotland when my desire to see the standing stones on the Isle of Lewis interfered with reason. Scotland in March means braving cold wind and driving rain. What better way to see the Isle of Skye? Whatever. I will not be thwarted in taking in the beauty of that country regardless of weather. This time it is May. But I probably will still not see those damn standing stones like I want to. Mike assures me that his time alone in the family home will not come amiss as he plans to sit around in his underwear drinking beer and watching bad TV. As long as he stays off the roof and doesn’t climb the mast, I’m fine with it. But I sure wish he was going with me.

 

As soon as I return, we gear up for Andrew’s college graduation, visits from family who live far away,  and all the celebrating. You’d think it would be a celebration only for Andrew, but in fact, Mike and I will be celebrating the fact that we’ve been able to see two kids through being college educated. We are seriously patting ourselves on the backs about that. We won’t know what to do with ourselves. Except that his graduation marks the time when our Little Cunning Plan goes into fast forward! We approach this next phase with excitement tinged with fear and loathing. It’s a lot of feelings to handle all at once. Stay tuned.

She loves her lettering with red outlining!