Top 10 ways to survive the winter as a liveaboard

Top 10 ways to survive the winter as a liveaboard

Baby, it's getting cold outside . . . 

With another polar vortex descending from the north, it’s time to think about how to keep warm this winter as a liveaboard in colder climates. (Okay, probably two weeks ago would have been more timely, but if you’re reading this as you’re sitting inside a down sleeping bag and your water line is frozen, it’s not too late!) 

I've typed up my top 10 tips to liveaboard your boat in the winter. Spoiler alert: the #1 way to survive the polar vortex involves palm trees and white sand beaches!

Read them all at:

We Float Through Life.org, the new website "of the liveaboards, by the liveaboards, for the liveaboards."

Missing urban density

Urban density: the environment's secret friend

Cities: loud, dirty, polluting, asthma-producing concrete jungles with high urban density. But, at the same time, environmentally friendly? Yes.

Urban density in Spain.

I know there are studies and reports and articles written about the environmental benefits of high urban density, but it was hard for me to believe them when we lived in Philadelphia.

One of our favorite park in Philadelphia; directly under the Ben Franklin Bridge.

 We lived right next to loud, dirty I-95 and practically underneath the Ben Franklin Bridge, a major bridge connecting Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Our favorite parks were either under that bridge or at the interchange between I-95 and the bridge. It was loud and the amount of fine particulate that coated our boat and car made me worry about the quality of the air my girls were filling their lungs with. Moving to a smaller city seemed like a great way to live closer to nature with cleaner air, a slower pace of life, and a little more peace and quiet.

A quieter, cleaner life, but not necessarily and eco-life

And here we are. We moved from a city of over 5 million to a metro area of a little less than 850,000. It's practically a small town compared to the Philly metro area. Have I found what I was looking for?

• Clean air. Yes. The boat and car stay relatively clean and my lungs don't burn when I exercise outside. (Okay, well they do burn but that has nothing to do with air quality.)
• Peace and quiet. Yes and no. It is quiet walking around the neighborhood. We can hear the birds. There is no background hum of the highway. But we are close to a Naval Air Station and the planes run a lot of exercises directly overhead. We are also a stone's throw from the major railroad track that runs down the east coast of Florida. The trains are insanely loud. (Not the actual clickety-clack but the horns they blow as they go through intersections. And the horns have to be loud because the intersections are outdated, making the trains blow the horns as a precaution to warn drivers. But I digress...)
• Close to nature. Yes. We are close to nature. The river is quiet and big and actually feels like a living body of water as opposed to the Delaware River which always felt like a large dumping ground for farms and industry and energy plants. We're even considering getting a stand up paddleboard so we can play on the river. (You know, in all our free time.) We are a short 30 minute drive to the beach and the city has lots of parks that are bigger than your average city park.



A beautiful beach, a short car ride away.

• Slower pace of life. Yes. Rather, YES. It is slow here. Compared to a city of 5 million, there is not much going on. I'm not sure why I didn't fully expect that.

Clean air, peace and quiet, close to nature, slower pace of life. These all seem like they could go hand in hand with an eco-friendly way of life. But there is one key element missing: high urban density. This is a city built around cars. The sprawl is mammoth and it can take 30 minutes to drive from one end of the city to the other, on a highway, going 70 miles an hour. It is hard to wrap my head around how BIG this city is. People drive everywhere, the public transportation is sub-par, and it is not at all bicycle friendly.

So, yes, big cities are dirty and loud, but I'll venture a guess that the residents of a big city with high urban density are polluting (define as you like) less per capita than residents of a smaller city with big sprawl. 

Embracing the small

What do I miss about the big city? I miss impromptu conversations with random strangers as I walk down the street. I miss being able to walk to independent coffee shops. I miss being able to walk to friends' houses. I miss the color and the noise and the action.

The annual Mummers' parade on January 1 in Philly.

The Headhouse farmer's market in Philly. Local, organic produce every weekend.

Oh SEPTA. I didn't think I'd miss you so much.

So what do I love about my new city? I love the quiet. I love hearing the birds. I love living on a river that has boating possibilities from day trips to week-long trips. I love walking down tree-lined streets. I love all the parks. I love being able to go to the beach. Oh, and there are palm trees.

Palm trees, clean air, and a gorgeous sunset with wide open sky.

10 websites I love

I spend a lot of time online - from brief glances at Facebook to distract me and entertain me beyond the toddler/preschool sphere, to reading the news, getting recipes, finding inspiration, shopping, dreaming - I spend a lot of time online. I use this space to push me beyond just aimless surfing to interaction with friends, family, and my online community.

Here are ten website I love:

Elephant
The Elephant Journal is a compendium of all sorts of articles about living a mindful life. It's right along the same lines that I hope this blog to be about, but with content from a large number of authors including one-time contributors and regular columnists.

Huffington Post
For news, opinion, silly stories, feel good stories, facts, and good reporting and writing. I love HP.

YachtWorld
Dreaming about the boat for next year, for three years from now, for the one that will take us around the world.

Facebook
The ultimate in time suck and connectivity device.

Weather Underground
My go-to weather source.

Pinterest
Time suck, but also recipe storage site and the place to go for ideas of organization projects and things to do with the kiddos.

We Float Through Life
A new, community website for liveaboards or wanna-be liveaboards. Funny, entertaining, informative.

The Tiny House Blog
Living simply in small spaces. We don't have a tiny house, but we do live in a small space and this blog is helpful and inspiring.

Jane Lear's food blog
Good food and good writing.

Sail magazine's blog feed
Just dreaming...

What about you? What are your favorite websites? How do you spend your time online?

(Almost) carless in a car-centric city

We have one car. Two adults, two kids, one car. Statistically speaking, the car-people ratio in our family is not normal for a family living in America. Per capita vehicle ownership in the US is 809 cars per 1000 people; that number drops slightly in Florida with 710 cars per 1000 people.

It's easy to live without a car in big, densely populated cities with great public transportation. It's nearly impossible out in the rural hinterland. And all those medium-sized cities? The ease of being car-less falls somewhere in between easy and impossible. Choosing to be car-less in the US definitely requires some lifestyle compromises and intentional thought about where to live.

I  call my life "car-minimal." We're not car-less, but since Hans takes the car to work every day, and he works between 60-80 hours a week, I'm arguably more car-less than not. On his days off we have the luxury of jumping in the car and going to the beach or to the main library or Trader Joe's. So I'm straddling both worlds: car-less and speeding down Route 66. So, how do I get around with two little kids in tow on my car-less days? What are the important factors in living a car-minimal life?

Location, location, location
Choose your neighborhood and choose wisely. Decide your walking or biking or public transit distance and draw a radius around your house or apartment. What can you reach without a car?

Our marina is within spitting distance of the grocery store, a marine supply store, a Starbucks, a bagel shop, a couple banks, hair salons, a fantastic park, a pizza restaurant, and a sushi restaurant. We're a little further afield, but still bike-able or public transit-able to a library, some friends, other parks, cafes, etc.

Learn your local public transportation system
It may not be frequent, it may not go exactly where you want to go, but, in general, public transportation works. It's not scary, the people on it are not scary, it's usually clean, it's safe, and it's cheap.

I am a big fan of city buses. I love taking the bus. I know my closest bus route and I also know that it is generally on time (never early but sometimes late) and the buses are not frequent. So I have to know the schedule and I can't miss a bus if I have somewhere to be. Yes, it does take longer to get somewhere on the bus. Yes, on days when I have the car, I always choose to drive over going on the bus, but public transit is invaluable to me on my car-less days.

Find other ways to get around besides walking
If you want to live a car-minimal life, you've got to think outside of the box. I tow my girls around in a bike trailer. I take the bus. I like to walk. I compromise on what I want to do and when I can do it.

Why? 
$$$. The number one reason we only have one car isn't aligned with higher morals or strident environmentalism. We only have one car because we only have one car. We moved from a big city in the northeast to a medium-sized city in the southeast. Having one car in the northeast was a luxury; having a car here isn't a necessity, per se, but it definitely makes life easier. A second car would be great, but we just don't have the cash to buy one and we're not willing to budget any money for a monthly car payment.

I also like the challenge of living outside of the car culture. I wish our cities were designed to be more bike and pedestrian friendly. I wish more people biked and walked and took public transit. I like getting to know my neighborhood because I spend a lot of time here, rather than trekking all over the city and suburbs to go to a new playground. By not having a second car, I actively support my ideals of community, environmentalism, and health.

The pitfalls
Of course there are many, many times when I wish we had a second car. The city is geographically big and I have friends that I can't visit because they live just too far away to bike or bus to. The main library has great kid programming, but it's a little beyond our biking radius. I don't mind a longer bike ride but it's hard to convince two sisters to sit happily together in a bike trailer for more than 15 minutes without fighting. And of course if it's raining out then we're stuck at home.

So, yes, if someone were to give me a car, I'd happily take it. But I know that I'd still limit my usage and I would still travel via bike or foot if I was going less than three miles. Just because we live in a car-centric culture, doesn't mean we need to travel via car every single time we leave home.

Yesterday, as we were getting off the boat to head to the park, my pre-schooler asked me if we were taking the car or bike or walking. I responded, bike and she groaned. Apparently she really wanted to go in the car. I explained, in 3-year-old speak that cars drink gas, but they don't drink all the gas. Some of the extra gas gets blown out into the air and makes the air dirty. Our bike doesn't drink gas, so if we travel by bike instead of in the car, we won't make the air dirty.

Simple, irrefutable pre-school level logic.

Don't organize, just purge!

Choosing a life afloat means choosing to live with less stuff. We just don't have the space. Minimizing, purging, reducing, and downsizing are all becoming popular. This article from the New York Times bounced around on my Facebook feed for a couple days. Marie Kondo, a Japanese home organization expert, encourages people to clean out the clutter in their lives by examining each item they own by asking themselves: "Discard everything that does not spark joy, and do not buy organizing equipment."

This made me laugh. I sometimes find myself on an organizing kick: surely there must be some boxes or baskets or shelves that could contain this mess? And then I scroll around on Pinterest for hours looking for the right kind of catch-all for that space. I may buy a basket or two, or reconfigure a cardboard box for the space, but, more often than not, I realize my main problem: too much stuff. Overstuffed bookshelves don't elicit the same kind of relaxed feeling in me as, say, an overstuffed chair does. Instead of buying bookends and creating dividers to contain the stuff, I simply get rid of some of the things.

This is the one space on the boat that we "organized."
 It used to be a bench, but only a 3 foot clearance to the "ceiling," it would only work for kids.
We took the bench out and built shelves.
Bottom left: art supplies. I constantly clean and assess, otherwise it quickly overflows.
Middle: baking goods. I recently went through all my baking supplies and now only have what I really use.
Far right: cookbooks and alcohol. Ahem. Someone needs to purge the cookbooks and I can't do it.

The bookshelf in the main cabin. This is what it looks like everyday. I didn't spruce it up for the photo! It's nice to have a clear space where the girls can spread out books, add toys, and use for a play space. And it also looks so much nicer than a shelf crammed full of books. (Like it used to be.)

Parents of young children are also embracing this emerging trend in minimalism. Less toys =  less stuff to pick up and put away at the end of the day. Less toys = kids will actually use the toys they have. Better yet, less toys =  greater chance for imaginative play. Freja spent hours yesterday creating and playing with her farm, which was the inside of a cardboard box that she had decorated with stickers and markers. Matilda, meanwhile, played on the back deck in the baby bathtub, pouring water in and out of containers.

I feel like I'm moving more and more towards a barren aesthetic - no knick knacks, empty shelves, clear counters - because my mind can rest when my eyes can rest on a clear, clean space.

And the one clear counter on the boat. This space is always clear; my visual sanity. A quiet place to rest my eyes.

Raising boat kids

The view out our back door.

These are some of the responses I get when I tell people we live on our boat with two little kids:

"How do you do it?"

"You're such a trooper."

"You're a saint."

"You live on a...?"

"Fascinating!"

"So...where does everyone sleep?"

"What do you do about toys?"

It is so hard to explain that my life is not much different from a landlubber's life. I have the words. I have 101 different ways to say that my life is similar to any stay-at-home-mom's, but it's hard to explain it. I say things like:

"It's like living in micro."

"We basically live in a small apartment, that floats."

"We have two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a living room, and a back deck."

"It's no harder than living in a third floor walk-up in the city."

"You should see the pool."

"We have less stuff. We go outdoors a lot."

"The girls are little, they don't need big spaces."

Small girls play in small spaces.
This is the "kid space" - a corner of the main cabin that is designated as "kid only."

An impromptu reading nook, about 2 feet x 2 feet. Perfect for 2 small girls.

But even when people come over to the boat and see the space and the layout for themselves, they still shake their heads and say: "I don't know how you do it. I know that I never could."

Since I'm living out of the mainstream, I rarely walk into the mainstream - into someone's house or apartment - and shake my head and say: "I don't know how you do it. I know that I never could." (Which, don't get me wrong, is a totally understandable and fine thing to say. I absolutely don't take offense at all.) But what I want to say when I'm in a house is:

"Oh my word. There is a lot of stuff to clean."

"Wow. We'll have to buy a lot of furniture if we ever move ashore."

"What is in all these cabinets in the galley-I mean, kitchen?!"

"How long does it take to clean the whole house?" (Seriously, the idea of cleaning a whole house is daunting.)

"A full-size washer and dryer, steps away from the bedroom?!"

"How exactly do you start up a lawnmower?"

I drool over the counter space and the dishwasher. I love putting one girl down for a nap and not having to keep everyone else quiet so as not to wake her. I love watching the girls run around like crazy.

Living in a boat at a marina is a lot like living in a third story condo without an elevator. We have to schlep groceries from the car, down the dock, and up into the boat. I have to heave the stroller onto the boat. We have a great back deck, awesome views, and the option of going on vacation without packing a bag. We have all the amenities of living in a community with none of the work: trash, recycling, water, pool, clubhouse, barbecue areas. 

Four people living on a 36' boat. The girls have their own beds that no one else can go in without their permission; Hans and I work to give each other time and space alone. But, it's true. We are on top of each other, a lot. Sleep is difficult; it seems like someone is always waking someone else up. The girls fight over their toys, Hans never has a minute at home alone because we're always here, Matilda always seems to get her hands on things like markers and sunglasses and phones no matter how hard we try to keep that stuff away from her, the shower is tiny and only useful when I can't make it up to the marina, I wish the girls had bigger toys like a train set and an easel, I would love space in the galley to store a deep fryer and a food processor and a juicer. The small space means we have challenges and we have wants. But, overall, small isn't a bad thing. I embrace small.

Small space means: 

• less stuff
• less clutter
• less things to buy (we have no room for throw pillows, decorative vases, end tables, or knick knacks)
• more time outdoors (it's easy to get bored in a small space. The great outdoors is our living room.)
• lots of emphasis on non-toy activities for the girls: art, music, dress-up, and imaginary play like cooking are big hits

We're outdoors, a lot. Hanging out by the inlet, watching boats.
You know, because we don't get enough of that at home.

We have challenges, yes. But I'll venture a guess that living in a big, or even medium-sized house has its own, different set of challenges.

Good living.

5 ways to relax without plugging in

 Let's play word association: relax

What do I get?

• beach
• birds singing
• eyes closed
• lying down
• calm muscles
• fresh air

But the reality? When I have a minute two relax, I plug in. I flip open my computer, I check my phone, I turn on the TV. It has become part of our culture to relax by zoning out in front of the TV or some other screen. Except that's not really relaxing. Sure, it's easy and entertaining and requires little thought, but those flashing images actually make us more hyper than we were before we turned the TV on. We don't even pay for cable but I can always find an episode of Law & Order to watch. And then of course I have trouble falling asleep and tend to have stressful dreams. Like I said, not relaxing.

Yet night after night I still mess around on the computer and then watch some TV before bed. Why? Because it's easy. It's hard to really relax. I recently went to the beach by myself and, instead of meditating while watching the waves or getting engrossed in a page-turning book, I found my mind racing. I couldn't relax.

Obviously I need a little more practice at the art of relaxation. Here are five ways to relax without staring at a screen. (The key here: practice. You can't meditate once a week and expect to reach zen or whatever calm state you're hoping for. Practice again and again. Learn to be comfortable with your body and mind at rest.)

1. Meditate. I'm no expert but it's easy to find a local class or guidance online. Here is some basic info from the Mayo Clinic.

2. Read a book. It doesn't need to be high brow literary fiction. Anything in print that can take you away from your daily concerns will work.

3. Cook. Or choose another activity that you like doing if cooking feels like a chore. Get engrossed, get involved, lose yourself in the activity. Get in a state of flow.

Surely I can so something in the kitchen with this massive squash!

4. Exercise. Whatever works. High intensity with some house music or solo yoga on a beach. Again, get in your flow.

5. Play. Do something fun! Go fly a kite. Kick a soccer ball. Take a picnic to the park. Get outside with friends and family and pretend you're a kid. Have fun!

Bonfire on the beach with friends. Definitely fun!