2007 v 2017

A few differences

July 4 and July 14, 2017 (combined journal entries)

West End and en route between Allens-Pensacola and Maniack Cays

cooking dinner on the beach, fresh hog fish that Hans speared that afternoon.

homemade Bingo. Practicing for Cap'n Jacks in Hope Town

Trying to get the kids to do chores.
It's like pulling teeth and the amount of whining is insane.

My mom asked me the other day how this trip is different from life on s/v Whisper. Is it ever! It’s like comparing apples and oranges. Rather, it’s like comparing kale and chocolate ice cream. That’s to be expected though.

Not  only is it a comparison of powerboat versus sailboat, it’s a comparison of limited time v. endless time and life with kids v. pre-kid life. The differences go on and on. There are some elements of life on Whisper that I yearn for, whereas there are times now that I’m more relaxed and filled with more joy and content happiness than I was on Whisper.

Life on Whisper was alternately stressful and pure bliss. It was a hedonistic life where our only goal was to find fun and have fun. We sailed from one beautiful island to the next - drinking rum, hitchhiking, snorkeling, diving for lobster, napping, cooking, and reading books. These lazy, gluttonous, carefree days were punctuated by intense stress. We were new boaters and had a lot to learn. Sailing was easy; it was all the other seamanship skills that were hard. Navigation, weather watching, choosing safe anchorages, maintaining the boat - these are not all intuitive and we learned as we went. This naturally lead to disagreements since Hans and I both have the tendency to believe that we are right. We learned to trust each other, to let go, and to work together. We learned which decisions are worth arguing over and which are better to let go.

All this learning - both the nuts and bolts of boating and how to work together - has come to the forefront now. Boating with kids is a whole new ballgame. Thank goodness we’re at a competent level with our boating skills. We don’t need to overthink anchoring, navigation, or weather. One of us makes a decision and the other one trusts that decision. If something breaks, Hans (almost always) knows how to fix it. The stress that can come from the concrete skills of boating is minimal (not that we’re experts, far from it), which is good, because the kids provide enough stress to keep us busy. Stock up on ice because sundowners are a necessity.

It’s not just us anymore - we have two small humans onboard that we need to keep safe and healthy - and if they’re happy, that’s an added bonus.

In a more general perspective, the major difference between cruising in 2007 and 2017 is technology - specifically telecommunications.

Back in 2007 we more or less threw our cellphones (flip phones) overboard as we crossed the Gulf Stream. The only way to reach us was via email and the only time we checked email was when we took our computer ashore and found a wifi connection, normally at a bar. Our parents were a little concerned that every time we chatted on Skype we were calling from a bar. We were always at the bar? Always at a bar with a cold beer in hand.

We received our weather reports on our SSB (single sideband) radio - a dinosaur of metal and plastic that could tune in radio stations from all over. We could dial in Chris Parker, sailors’ favorite weather router, or chat with a HAM operator who was living in an underground bunker in Minnesota. (We didn’t, but we could.)

We connected our SSB to our computer with an auto line and downloaded weather faxes from NOAA. When I say downloaded, remember it wasn’t with an internet connection, it was through radio signals on the SSB. Very old school. Our favorite was a map of our forecast region that showed current weather trends - troughs, highs, and low pressure systems. We combined that information with Chris Parker’s daily report and local information to get the general weather gist. It was a great system, albeit labor intensive, and we always felt confident about our weather reports.

Weather forecasting has gotten slightly easier in 2017. Grab my phone, open up NOAA’s marine forecast and, after a minute or so (it’s only a 2G connection, already included in our Sprint monthly plan and available over the Bahamas cell towers), voila! There’s our weather report. For better or worse, we’ve had an internet connection the entire way through the Abacos. Search the horizon for a Batelco tower - one of the only distinguishable landmarks of most of the low lying islands - and do a quick check of the phone. It really can’t be easier. Not to mention the weather is the same very day. It is summer after all!

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Solo parenting on a holiday

 

 

With my big girl at the end of the day. (Matilda, knowing that I really wanted a picture of the three of us, refused to be in the photo.)

I can finally say, after nearly two years into residency, I have figured out how to enjoy a holiday even when I'm (temporarily) solo parenting. Mother's Day 2016 = success!

Let's get a few basics out of the way: 1) it's not easy. 2) other solo parents have to deal with more difficult situations. 3) I'm lucky, no matter which way you look at it, but my troubles are real to me, even if they're #firstworldproblems.

I've spent a lot of holidays over the past couple years without Hans, and I know I'll be spending many many more without him as well. It's a fact of his job and we choose to live far away from family. So I've been experimenting with, shall we say, coping strategies.

Coping strategy #1, the easiest: ignore it. Just pretend that the third Thursday in November is just like any other Thursday and, "come on girls, let's go to the park." Except...the park is filled with happy, extended families getting some exercise in before they tuck in to the big meal. And I feel like the biggest loser.

Coping strategy #2, avoid social media. Oh believe me, I've logged on to facebook on Christmas morning and seen lots of photos of kids dressed in cute Christmas pjs, digging into their stockings while adult family members coddle a cup of coffee and oversize cinnamon bun. Cue the tears. Avoiding social media seems like a no-brainer. But facebook is one of my communities. It's a major way I connect with friends and family around the world and I belong to groups that provide support and humor on a daily basis. Call me addicted, but I need my social media.

Coping strategy #3, pretend that Hans isn't working. Continue going through all the motions of the holiday - the decorations, the festivity, the food - and my other half will be around for about 10% of it. At the end of the day(s) I'm exhausted and don't feel festive but just annoyed that I did a lot of holiday work and no one was around to appreciate it.

Three strategies, three backfires. Yesterday, however, I did it right. Woohoo!

*****Coping strategy #4, make it my own. *******
Typical Mother's Day stuff that I've done, by myself with kids, that have felt hollow and lonely: church, brunch, mimosas. This year I planned in advance, talked with Hans about what I wanted, and connected with my local community. I had such a great day. Freja was thrilled that it was mother's day. The girls love holidays and special events and were excited that it wasn't just a regular day, but it was "mamma's special day." Hans and I put out a special breakfast for the girls the night before so I didn't have to jump out of bed to make them breakfast; I put out some art supplies for Freja because she wanted to decorate before I got out of bed; Freja let me go first when we played games together; Matilda kept hugging and kissing me and saying "Happy mother's day." They were as sweet as ever, even though Matilda did push my buttons from time to time. (She is only 3, after all.)

Morning dance party (Taylor Swift, Adele, Meghan Trainer, Shut up and Dance, Frozen - of course) while I drank coffee and read a book on the back deck.

A week beforehand I checked the calendar and realized I'd be alone all day, so I checked in with some friends. Sure enough, there were a couple others whose husbands were working all day so we made plans. A friend came over with her boy for pool time and lunch. It was fun and relaxing. Later in the day another friend found a "free meal for moms" deal at a Mexican restaurant so we met up with the kiddos and had a fun meal where someone else cooked and did the dishes. Please and thank you! And Hans, knowing that I do love mother's day, even though it can be viewed as a Hallmark holiday, came home with flowers, chocolates, and a bottle of champagne.

Three goofballs eating hamburger buns with forks.

 I was surrounded by so much love from that I truly felt lucky and happy and didn't want to be anywhere else. A spa day would have been nice (duh), but on mother's day I was so happy to be with my girls and be a mom.
It's Monday morning and we're back in the usual routine - kids at school, I'm doing laundry, and Hans is fishing before work. Now that I finally have figured out how to do holidays right, I can enjoy them for what they are: a break in the monotony to take a minute to appreciate what we have, relax, and have fun for a day. No responsibilities, just living. 

12 12 12

Back to work for me and Hans.

I’m mentally bracing myself for this week. Hans starts residency on July 1st (that’s tomorrow!) with a month of 12 hour shifts, 5 days a week. So that’s not too bad: a 60 hour work week with a day off here and there. Except when a patient comes in at the end of his shift and his 12 hour shift turns into a 14 hour shift. And except when he has to work 5 12s in a row and then needs at least one day to recuperate. Easy for me to understand, but not easy for the girls to let him sleep instead of playing with them.

I have two different challenges: free time for me and small boat projects.

In addition to the two hours in the middle of the day I usually get when both the girls nap, I’m trying to carve out some time while the girls are both awake to relax. Hans’s 12 hour shifts are also 12 hour shifts for me. Matilda wakes up at 5:45 every morning. Freja goes to bed around 8pm. The other day they both played in portable bathtubs on the back deck and I sat in the shade and read my book. On Friday morning while Matilda was napping, Freja and I sat on the back deck and ate peach cobbler and drank cappuccinos. Not too shabby. Right now Freja is napping and Matilda is just waking up. I hear her in the vee-berth, but she’s happy and singing and talking, so I’ll let her play alone for a few more minutes.

A few small projects need to get done to modify our liveaboard life to living in the hot Florida sun.

Transportation: I just bought a used bike trailer off craigslist so I can tow the girls behind the bike instead of taking the bus. Riding the bike will be hot, but walking and then waiting for the bus in full sun is hotter. We’ll go on our inaugural trip this morning.

Projects: These are all things I can do by myself, but it’s hard to get stuff done on the boat and take care of the girls at the same time. The minute I start working on something, Matilda invariably falls and starts crying or Freja desperately needs to change her t-shirt or get a drink of water.

• Screens for the hatches. In preparation for the trip down the ICW, we put no-see-um netting over the big hatches. It turned out to successfully keep out the no-see-ums and any breeze. Since I’m happy to keep the a/c turned off, we need some bigger gauge screening to keep the flies and mosquitos out.
• Fans for the hatches. The tandem project is to mount box fans inside the hatches so we can get even more breeze, but a bug-free breeze.
• Shade. We have a small tarp over the foredeck, shading the vee-berth, but I’d like to get a much bigger tarp to shade the entire foredeck and potentially keep it dry so we can keep the hatches open during rain.
• Dinghy. Pull the dinghy up out of the water, clean, deflate tubes.

Nothing really big, but necessary. The biggest challenge is having Hans back at work instead of on vacation like he has been for the past couple months. I have to get used to solo parenting again, during the days at least. It’s nice to get the girls on a schedule and they appreciate routine, but, like most parents, the days are looong but the weeks, months, and years are short.

Blue jobs, pink jobs

 I first heard the terms "blue jobs" and "pink jobs" when we started working on our sailboat Whisper. As we planned our trip to the Caribbean, Hans and I knew that it was important that we could both handle all the systems on the boat. We didn't both need to be experts at everything, but if one of us fell overboard or became sick, the other person needed to be able to take over. Then I started hearing about blue jobs. And that is why I became the official anchor weigher.

weighing anchor. "put your legs into it!"

We outfitted Whisper with a 26 pound Delta anchor with 100 feet of chain and no windlass. Damned if I was going to be at the tiller every time because I didn't have the upper body strength to hoist it on deck. (Of course fellow boaters didn't know of my resolve and probably saw Hans as the a**hole for having his wife up on deck doing the heavy work while he simply steered and adjusted the throttle to the engine.) There would be no blue jobs and pink jobs aboard Whisper. After learning how to change the oil on our diesel engine and helping Hans clean the carburetor on our dinghy engine, I started to rethink my stance on pink jobs and blue jobs. Pink jobs: cooking, laundry, dusting. Blue jobs: engine maintenance, bilge cleaning, electronics repair. "Oh honey, what do you want for dinner tonight?"

Eventually we divided the tasks on Whisper based on who was best suited for what particular job (and personal interests). Hans worked on the engine because he likes taking things apart and putting them back together; I hung the laundry out to dry because I love drying laundry in the sun; I did mast and rigging work because it was easier for Hans to hoist me up the mast than vice versa; etc. But, to an outsider, our jobs were divided down the color lines. That divide exists on our new boat, m/v Rhumb Line.

rolling out Swedish meatballs on Whisper.

Whisper from above, taken by her unofficial rigger, yours truly.

Hans cleans the engine with a toothbrush.

I have zero, I repeat ZERO, interest in the two gas guzzling engines under our main cabin sole. "Hans!" Hans has no interest in washing our clothes while I still marvel at the electric washer (you would too after washing clothes by hand in a salty environment for almost 3 years). I dust and vacuum; Hans power washes the decks; I sew curtains and cushion covers; Hans replaces burnt out fuses and bilge pump alarms; I clean the toilet; Hans replaces the macerator pump when it breaks. (Yes! Score one point for the pink team!)

Hang on, re-read that last paragraph. What year are we living in? 1956? No, it's 2011. Have we really divided our married boat life down such gender-typed lines? Are we doing what works best for our respective talents and interests, or have we fallen victim to the stereotypical pink and blue jobs? And now for the major question: If we continue to divide our skills as we are doing, and if Hans works as a doctor and I work from home part-time and take care of our kids the rest of the time, how will we raise kids to be thoughtful, progressive, feminists who have never heard the terms "pink jobs" and "blue jobs?" How will we teach them that men can stay home and do laundry and art projects while mom goes to work and brings home the bacon when we are modeling such old-fashioned gender based roles in our own relationship?

Freja: there are no blue jobs and there are no pink jobs. There are only jobs.