Family in a Bottle

Going in Reverse

2010-06-03T13:58:00.000-07:00

Libraries have been, and continue to be, sanctuaries on this voyage! Blake and I are nestled up to a table at the Beaufort, SC library with our cozy chairs...happy to be still and surrounded by the thoughts of many great thinkers.

We never made it to Charleston. Sixty miles out and three days at sea was enough for the boys...we turned in early to make anchorage in this beautiful little town. Fortuitous, like so many things on our sojourn, for this morning we staggered out of a small bank with Captain Elizabeth, who is in the process of purchasing the Vindhler!!!

We are leaving tomorrow A.M. to deliver the boat to her about forty miles up the river from Jacksonville, FL. Then, we will make our way North via van or plane. We are savoring these last days and trying to live in the moments of beauty and hardship that have made this incredible journey a memory that will always endure.

PS Someone told me it's hard to find all of our movies on YouTube...just search familyinabottle on YT or...here's the link. XXOO
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=familyinabottle&aq=f

Homeward Bound

2010-05-23T07:03:00.000-07:00

We have finally reached the decision to return North...via sailboat, not plane....so many mixed emotions. However, this is the right choice. The Vindhler will be making quite a few ocean passages...and we have been having great fun getting her ready to taste the salt in her sails once more. New England air is so different from the South... and finally visiting New York City again will be a highlight...our old stomping ground. Not to mention seeing wooden spars rather than cigarette speeders.

Blake, ever the inventor, made a great super megaphone for class...lots of shenanigans when it arrived on board! Combined with the favorite game, cover your brother in stuffed animals, a great time if you have earplugs!

The cats, ensconced in new netting around the boat, are doing their very best to have some shore leave before our departure. Our boys are fidgety too...if only the safety nets could contain them once in awhile! No chance of that, however..so off I run.

Pen Shells and Purpose

2010-05-18T07:20:00.000-07:00

Well, as most of you suspected, I was bound to hit another wall. A spiky coquina one to be exact. Coquina (tiny pieces of rock, coral, and shell) being the building material of choice here in St. Augustine for over five hundred years! A combination of factors swirled about causing a tornado of emotions which spun me headlong into my collision.

It is still up for debate, by any sane individual, if you can stop what is coming for you!

Although the wall I hit may have been figurative, the conversations that have followed have been very real. Thanks to all of you who have been such willing listeners!

We are discussing an early return to New England, but, hesitate at every turn. To have come so far and not make the Bahamas passage would be a bitter pill. Realistically, we would have to sell the boat to help us get re-established.

On the one hand, I am done with living in a bottle...conservative, judgmental retirees and kid-haters rampant at the marina...missing family and friends horribly...physically tired of the constant work (Mom's, think camping for six months in one tent with husband and two children)... John Edward working long doubles...no car...no couch...dormlike showers...an oven that reminds me of my childhood shake-and-bake...typical two year old tantrums and nine year old sassiness that I can't close the door on...

HOWEVER...the magical moments continue even as I become disenchanted. Like a symbol of hope and beauty, Blake and Dante returned from the beach with their father covered in sand and smiles and holding a pen shell a foot long. The shell, now a permanent sculpture on the boat, serves as a reminder of this journey's primary purpose...to slow down and cherish each other.

Moonlight Music

2010-05-11T12:28:00.000-07:00

We so enjoyed having some new neighbors that broke out of the usual mold...excellent musicians on their journey with joy and good will. What a change from the bitter sourpuss whose only noises were complaints and criticism!

Their music made all of us in love with life...for the precious fleeting moments we are sharing.

We are enduring the heat surprisingly well...making each other laugh...and dreaming of August nights in Maine.

Peacocks and the Past Afoot

2010-05-04T08:59:00.000-07:00

Besides the momentary excitement of the impressive NYFD prototype boat (fresh from the factory), that docked steps away from our vessel, peacocks and the past have been flooding my mind.

I took the boys to The Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park. As we entered, we were greeted by traditional and white peacocks. Strange music filled the air (piped in from hidden speakers cloaked in the spanish moss canopy above). We were transported in all but body to a mystical land. Despite the incredible experience of drinking water from the same source they discovered over five hundred years ago, it was the Timucuan Indians who stirred my soul. The living museum was a reminder that the ground we trod on had once been a peaceful community living in harmony with nature. They were entirely slaughtered by the "brave Spanish explorers" who landed on their paradise and crushed them as they tried to rape all they could from the earth. Blake and I had a memorable conversation with a young man whose genealogy dated back thousands of years to that fateful day when the white men landed. After that, we both felt the peacocks eyes were gazing at us with both beauty and sadness. I do believe that his generation will vindicate Native Americans by true remembrance of fact rather than rewritten history which glorifies so much wrongdoing.

O.K. Let me climb down from my soapbox and speak now of my most elusive comrade...Monsieur Memory. A dear friend from twenty years ago reached out to my sister on Facebook trying to contact me. My first response...that was soooooo long ago. I felt ancient. Clearing away the mist of years past, I remembered those days of youth. So much ahead. So intent on following passions. Trying to trace the path of my life. Complicated ground. Which led me full circle. To the now, to the voyage of discovery, to a partial mid-life crisis out of which blooms creativity, clarity, and contentment. There are few forces stronger than the soul of a mother in her forties! Which of course leads to a Happy Mother's Day for all the Mom's out there and to the men who are men enough to mother in their own masculine way while loving the Mom's in their lives. That's confusing but, you get the point. That's all for now, folks.

Friends and Foes

2010-04-26T10:07:00.000-07:00

Can you believe our dock neighbor, scurrying in and out of her vessel like a cockroach for the past ten years, repeatedly complained about our family until, at our wits end, we moved to the other side of the marina! Which leads me to the question...why do some people feed off of misery and discontent??? One of the resident pirates told me that her family has been in St. Augustine for over one hundred years, as has his family. He shook his head and proclaimed that each generation of her ancestors was more mean spirited than the next. As a result of her inner torment, our cats are now harnessed 24/7 and our kids feel they are constantly under surveillance by the noise police. After plotting my revenge for days, I've cast away my hatred and like a balm on my wounds, Lulu and Ryan, our dear friends from Maine arrived for a week!!!

Many memories of boogie boards and beaches...late nights and laughter...

How sweet the taste of true friendship!

The boys and I are flying back to Portland July 14th for a months stay at my parent's lodge on
Moosehead Lake. Can't wait to smell that New England air!

Hope you are all doing well and embracing spring.

Family

2010-03-31T11:43:00.000-07:00

We are doing well in our little corner of the ocean. The boys both received new sponge bob pajamas in honor of pajama day at Blake's school. Dante refused to take his off for forty-eight hours and caused many a chuckle to sneak out of frowning tourists as he trotted about town.

There is nothing quite like the love and encouragement of a parent. It convinces you that any journey can be attempted and finished if only you can see your self through their eyes. My parent's visit was such a needed gift for all of us and we feel rejuvenated and inspired to continue our adventure.

It was wonderful to meander through the streets and sit in the sun...hardly any tourist sights were seen...beautiful non-agenda afternoons!

Blake went bungee jumping for the first time and Dante on his first tilt-a-car ride...

On a final note, legos have won the prize for the best toy on board!

Days of Discovery

2010-03-22T13:22:00.000-07:00

March has been full of mischief. Promises of warmer weather quickly snatched away, stolen bikes, and our galley seemingly shrinking. It's not that I am turning morose, as some say my last blog hinted at. Quite the contrary, I feel more alive and determined to embrace every joy than ever before. It's just that I tire of tasks that were once so simple, turning to tremendous repeated efforts a la Sisyphus! Let me give some examples. At the end of a long day, I could once simply flop in to my snug bed. Now, I have to disassemble the dining room table, re-make the cushions, and carefully place in two side boards. A stroller which could once be wheeled inside the garage now needs to be closed, hoisted and jig-sawed tightly in our dock locker. Cooking dinner on two tiny burners with counter space smaller than our cutting board tires even the most industrious girl out not to mention heating the water (carried from the dock spout) in a small kettle and trying not to repeatedly slosh water on one's toes! I could go on...

And yet, our days are a continual discovery of each other and our selves. We laugh at the lack of space and the hardship and somehow sleep has never been sweeter, a stroller never so fabulous, dinners never so delicious!

We are still learning how to slow down. Finding cafes and fountains where Dante will be content to let us people watch and talk about everything or nothing. That hasn't happened in years!

Hope you are all doing well. Please continue to stay in touch.

luctor et emergo

2010-03-02T11:30:00.000-08:00

The words have been hovering over my soul for days now. I've incorporated them in to my play that I've been struggling through, muttered them as I completed my grueling tri-weekly jog, and softly whimpered their sounds in the midst of some dark dream. After looking at the stain glassed window hundreds of times and giving assorted translations to those who asked, I finally decided, once again, to check on every intellectual's best friend, Wikipedia for a definitive answer.

luctor et emergo	I struggle and emerge	Motto of the Dutch province of Zeeland to denote its battle against the sea

the motto of the Dutch province of Zeeland: Luctor et emergo, meaning "I wrestle and emerge"

What has my life been on the boat if not a constant struggling and wrestling juxtaposed with surrendering and relinquishing???!!! And talk about emerging... true identity and life truths continue to find me at every turn.

I am truly a New England girl. I feel like a foreigner in Florida's shallow sun. Despite my continuous efforts to deny it, writing and the theater has and will always be my true calling. I'll be poor the rest of my life if I can contribute to those two passions in some small way. I won't ever go back to a menial job I can't bear. My two boys are the most beautiful conundrums, riddles that always surprise me and leave me longing to be a better mother. My husband was right (how hard to type it) when he said I would only be happy if I was writing as if my life depended on it.

There...how's that for a healthy gallon of honesty!

St. Augustine endears itself to me. Every errand is ripe with people watching and some sort of drama. It's bike week in Daytona and currently the town is inundated with biker men and boys with the occasional sighting of that elusive vixen, the biker babe.

We still speak longingly of Maine, despite the knowledge of what the state resembles in mid March. Thanks to all who continue to encourage me with e-mails and phone calls.

I'm returning to my play.

Peace,

Rebecca

Relearning Rhythms

2010-02-16T10:09:00.000-08:00

Still at a standstill! Our dinghy is growing some sort of aquatic moss and our spirits are restless. When you live aboard something that is supposed to GOGOGO it seems entirely wrong to be hanging around the same place day after day!

However, we learn more and more about our home du moment as family comes and we do highly informative touristy things. Speaking of family, we got a visit from our beloved cupid (aka Greg), who not only introduced John and me 14 years ago, but finally got married to his own true love!

We've been getting our fair share of rain as so many of you are getting dumped with "the white stuff". In the Carolina's, a few inches caused thousands of car accidents by panicked drivers...reminding me of when I drove my car into a snow bank as Blake jumped up and down in the back seat, excited we might have to call the police...AHHHH YOUTH!

Dante and Blake continue their growth by leaps and bounds, physically and even more so mentally. Lots of firsts for Dante...merry-go-rounds, living across from pirates (they moved us across from the Black Raven), balloon dueling...and lots of happy hundreds for Blake...walking the streets in a downpour, dock racing, balloon dueling...

We are missing Maine intensely this month and all those we hold dear...

Beaches and Boys

2010-01-31T10:49:00.000-08:00

Now that John is working at a local restaurant and our boat's topside starts to resemble a cluttered front yard (complete with plastic shovels, assorted game pieces, and a bicycle) it has truly hit me that we are staying here in St. Augustine until hurricane season descends upon us!

I have finally admitted defeat in one of my many mommynag vs. boyswarriors battles..."NO RUNNING ON THE DOCKS!!!" They swerve after pelicans, skid to a teetering stop before a slip's end, and slash at imaginary dragons with delight! I smile and surrender to youth's beauty after locking Dante in his "naggie" aka lifepreserver.

We visited family in Cocoa Beach...returning spoiled rotten by soft rugs, big screen TVs, and comfort food. Honestly in shock by our primitive hull and lack of space. Now, three days later, it all seems perfectly normal again...

Multitasking here in the marina lounge...doing laundry and now I'm up for childcare...that would be my farewell song...

St. Augustine Splendor

2010-01-18T12:08:00.000-08:00

Ten days since my last posting...240 hours of high jinx and drama on the high seas!!! We officially ran aground...stuck in the muck as we prefer to say. John had tried to put on our fenders and our salty tiller decided to make her own decisions. We have hit bottom before and our motor smoked and spat us off. Not this time. The mud was so thick and black you could hear it sucking and sniggering victory! The feeling of the boat gradually tilting was bizarre. The kids thought it was great fun and called it tilt-a-world. An hour later, an old-timer in a coon hat came to pay us a visit. Said his name was brownie, a cajun creole with a smile for life. He offered us a ride ashore which we declined until the boat finally settled when the tide reached it's lowest. Before that mudflat happened however, Seatow showed up and plucked us off faster than Blake and Dante could scream YEEEEHAWWW!

We experienced our first outside passage as a family...over 100 miles in the ocean. It was breathtaking and terrifying at the same time. Although I was harnessed to the cockpit, during the hour of the wolf I sat rigid...refusing to look over my shoulder, convinced some shadowy figure wished to toss me into the inky black above or below...

Ten miles further out, our new found friends aboard their vessel Liberty, sailed on through the night. It was a comfort to know that we were making the passage together. They are leaving St. Augustine this afternoon and we feel rather glum about it. Their ten year old son, Josh, had become great friends with Blake. It's hard to be constantly letting people in only to release them so quickly from the bonds of friendship. It is the ebb and flow, the bringing and the taking of the tide that is our new paradigm...The inner heart remains safe from this, however, and we cherish all of our new friends knowing we will stay in touch and perhaps meet again as we travel this amazing world!

St Augustine has so much to offer as a safe harbor where we can hopefully build up our sailing kitty and do some work on the Vindhler. The oldest city in the US, it's full of ancient forts and historic houses dating back hundreds of years...come and visit us....or at least send a card!

Bondellio's
Vessel Vindhler
General Delivery
St. Augustine, Fl.
32084

Magical Savannah

2010-01-08T12:41:00.000-08:00

Savannah's streets hover in between deep melancholy and surface sunshine. The pavement itself swirls a strange melody. Each corner I turn does nothing to sway this dichotomy I feel. Rather like falling in love is the best way to describe my response to being here. Becoming rather dark and moody, John gave me five hours shore leave and I have walked and stared and discovered to my pounding heart's content! I have ultimately landed in an overstuffed arm chair cuddling my triple cappucino and computer. Almost out of time, satiated, so in love with John who realized before I did how much I needed some alone time!

Blake decided to get his hair cut for the New Year!!! He still looks like a little rocker as the decision was made to keep it a little longer on top...Dante is still insisting that he is five and wrestles daily with his brother as if his relentless strength and stamina will ultimately convince the rest of us of this truth.

We press on tomorrow, hoping to do an ocean passage on Monday or Tuesday. The ICW has been beautiful but, we are canaled, creeked, and rivered out for the moment...

A New Year in South Carolina

2010-01-05T10:38:00.000-08:00

Finally Blake and I have found that rare illusive combination... Father Time hanging around a great cafe with strong WiFi...

2010 found the B's in a serene anchorage with plenty of pelicans and sandpipers celebrating in the New Year. The big thrill on board was setting off a twenty year old flare...so bright that no one could look at it, hissing and sparkling for a full three minutes!

We lament to say "The Arctic Blast", as they fittingly call it here in SC, lingers on. The temp inside our cabin hasn't made it above 51 for a few days. We've all packed on the pounds in layers...pillsbury dough boys and girls...all of us rosy cheeked...John's beard turning mysteriously whiter and whiter...

AND YET...still giggling that we are actually DOING THIS!!! Charleston was completely cooly urban...Beaufort is breathtaking...We leave tomorrow AM for Savannah.

Our boys continue to be our center. They test our patience and grace, teach us about laughter and joy, and always astound. Last night Blake recited some sea shanty out of the blue and then read us "The Blue Men of the Minch"...a tale of tricky poetry loving fellows who destroy ships unless you can successfully finish their verse. It seems entirely possible that the waters are full of such magical beings when you live and breath in it's salty spray!

Dante told us why he had awakened in the wee hours of the morning (not uncommon) screaming (Not common)..."there was no mommy....no daddy....no toys and........WAAAHHHH...NO...BOOKS" John and I hugged him so tightly! The love of the written word is with us all.

Speaking of which, thank you all for your holiday words of encouragement! They mean a great deal.

Have to run...Dante and John just showed up...

Friendship

2009-12-22T09:49:00.000-08:00

The best Christmas present we will receive was constantly leaping from dock to dock and no less than five hundred pounds total! The Henson family drove over four hours to visit us and it was the sweetest encouragement of friendship which strengthened our resolve and spirits! Art, Darrah, Darius(8), Ariana(7), and Markie(6) filled our boat with laughter. They spent the night at a hotel nearby....showers for all of the B's in the morning. YES!!!!! Thank you so much, dear friends, for that wonderful visit...

Speaking of friendship, the sunsets leading up to last night's solstice have been not only cliched spectacular but, somehow, a magical invitation to a lifelong relationship between us and these waters we travel. We have discovered beaches at their edge and giant piers over their white curls. The infinite sparkles on their surface simultaneously breed daydreams and flashes of clarity within the lines of my December smile.

Have to run....Merry Merry Christmas!

Cabin Fever

2009-12-18T10:45:00.000-08:00

It was bound to strike. The dreaded phrase...the silent torturer...the demise of many a happy crew! CABIN FEVER!!! I'm not talking about the "sailing boredom" that some books reference with questionable authority. I'm speaking of the the type of complaining and horseplay that would drive any mother, clinging to any spiderweb of sanity, to plunge deep within the icy water and seek immediate spa treatments. It was short lived. The whining from both boys came to a grinding halt as I channeled Salacia, howling louder than the wind to all on board, ENOUGH! After extensive dock running and human pyramids, peace was restored...and then our beautiful dolphin shadows returned. I am sure that they sense the energy radiating from the different vessels!

We arrived in Southport, NC yesterday. Initially, we were going to try to push on another 140 miles to be in Charleston by Christmas. However, the wonderful free docks dripping with character, local ice cream candy parlors, wide sidewalks ending in snug library chairs, and sailing friends Bill and Rob tied up next hatch convinced us to remain here until the 26th.

Our hearts ache for the sounds of your voices and the smells of New England Christmas pines and yet, we are living our days with delight...relishing this country's many scenic surprises (Cape Fear River is all you might imagine!) and the phenomenal individuals whom we brush destinies with. We do feel that our decisions impact those we meet and encourage them to Carpe diem!

May you be discovering your own unexpected small surprises and good samaritans this holiday season.
Peace,

Rebecca

Head Musings

2009-12-09T12:03:00.000-08:00

The wind's whispers have swelled throughout the night. Morning shrieks have replaced the soothing murmurs. We have cut off Vincent's ear and he appears to be duly disgruntled with the gale. If we had not already decided to stay here until Sunday AM the weather would force that decision. Amidst 30-40 MPH winds little Dante and I walked to the yacht club and discovered a hammock at dock's edge. The view was majestic and as I swung my few cares away, he played inside a dinghy next to me. Then, returning with already glad and soaring hearts, I allowed him to stompjump in every puddle that his little heart desired. Pants, socks, and sneakers soaked through, he returned exalted back to our bobbing vessel.

We all ventured out again to the post office...pecans and fellow sailors blowing down everywhere!

Stopping by chance at the Village Food Emporium where we bought seafood chowder (heaven in the form of talapia, scallop,shrimp, butter, cream,and herbs), a fresh baguette and whole wheat boule we were happier by far than royalty!

I had promised in one of my first blogs to get to the bottom (pun intended) of why the toilet on our boat is called the head. Leave it to Wickopedia to explain all. The term originates from sailing ships in which the toilet area for regular sailors was placed at the head or bow of the ship. This was for two reasons.
1. Since most vessels of the era couldn't sail into the wind, winds came mostly from the rear. The head was downwind!

2. If placed above the water line, vents or slots cut near the floor level would allow normal wave action to wash out facility.

Hmmmm. Only the captain had his own private toilet near his quarters, located, of course, below the poop deck. What is a poop deck you ask? A poop deck is a deck that also forms the roof of a cabin built in the aft (rear) part of the ship. The name originated from the French word for the stern (rear), la poupe. To be pooped means to have a wave come over the stern from abaft (behind).

O.K. Now you know.

Incidentally, actually, mainly, our head has been a nightmare. I wont go into gory details but, every time I see a toilet on land I am in awe. I have always thought, being female, that bathroom humor was in very bad taste. Now, however, having humor about the bathroom is neccesary for sane survival! On that cheeky note I bid you avoir until next time.

The First Fall

2009-12-07T11:06:00.000-08:00

What shocked me the most was the speed with which I catapulted from the pleasant cockpit chitchat...instant smackdown by the hatch as I plummeted head first down the stairs, dangling only by a foot which John clasped tightly. Dazed and crying I realized we had run aground. We had veered ever so slightly from our course in the narrow river. Ever so slightly was more than enough for the shock wave of shallow waters. John checked my head, kissed me properly and examined my eyes with the flashlight. I was put on bed rest as he swung us out of the mud.

Imagine your worst migraine mixed together with severe body aches. Of course, any Mom knows the first sentiment "Thank God it was me and not one of the kids". Then followed many bruised musings about life's brevity. "In the blink of an eye", "a slender thread", "a new york second" on and on they careened in my brain combined with Natasha Richardson sadness...the only person I had read about who had been taken so tragically by a fall. Someone I really admired. So not only was I in pain but, I became depressed over her untimely death all over again. ARRRRRGH! Why had I been spared head trauma and she hadn't? Nothing like an injury to get the tangent brain cells working over time!

That was a few days ago and what a difference a day makes. We are in Oriental, the "sailing capital" of North Caroina. We tied up at the coveted public dock steps away from the unbelievably cozy Bean Cafe with free Internet. Our cell phones are useless here however, thus the lack of calls to loved ones...

A charming lady gave us a ride home from the grocery store...turned out she and her husband own a small yacht club...blissful hot showers and an invitation to dinner tonight. It will be our first time dining in a house since the start of our voyage! We feel continuously blessed by strangers kindness. Thanks to all who are keeping us in your prayers.

Check out the YouTube link for more movies and please follow and comment....

Grace,

Rebecca

Slowing WAAAAY Down in North Carolina

2009-12-02T13:31:00.000-08:00

We are weathering some nasty rain tied up tightly to the free town docks of Elizabeth City, North Carolina. The large mural at the landing reads "Harbor of Hospitality" and we have found it to be so. The Harbormaster, Sam, an elderly gent sweeter than peaches and cream has provided free rides in his pickup for propane, broken engine parts, diesel, etc for us and our small compadre of fellow voyaging vessels.

The running joke is a water fountain off of the docks which sprays a stream of water out about six feet...Sam tells us this is a source of endless delight for many during the summer afternoons and the city has decided not to repair it.

We plan to leave Th morning for South Carolina...creeping slowly for Florida which we think we will arrive at sometime around the New Year. Our food supply is doing extremely well...except for our cookie/chocolate stash which is dwindling at an alarming rate.

Blake and I have been tucked in at the local library...time to make a mad dash back to the boat!
Lots of love from us all...

Heading South

2009-11-28T09:50:00.000-08:00

The days dissolve in ordered disarray. John and I strive to maintain plans yet, the hours laugh at us as they unfold according to their own hidden wishes. The weather, too, changes as it desires. The blissful balmy breeze of Thanksgiving gave way to thirty mph gales that screeched like harpies later that same night.

We are still so in love with each other and the excitement of the journey as we head for the Carolinas...However, we continually pray for more patience and grace when the boat's walls shrink in on us...
We also continue to meet phenomenal people. Thanksgiving day, as we prepared to search out a canned turkey, the owner of the marina we were anchored off of came in his boat and like an angelic apparition offered us free showers and a Thanksgiving feast at the marina. Blake and Dante raced up and down the docks with other "boat kids". Seldom have we met people so kind and giving. They treated us like family and in true form, we feasted!

They also gave us the inside scoop on some free docking in the beautiful city of Portsmouth...right across the river from Norfolk...home to an incredible fleet of navy ships. We are resting here until Monday morning when we will depart early and head for North Carolina.

I think we are beginning to look more like live aboards...ragged sweaters and carefree unsteady saunters...for me it finally begins to feel normal.

Annapolis

2009-11-20T12:48:00.000-08:00

www.flickr.com/photos/familyinabottle

The long awaited reunion finally arrived...the boat looked the same...no small miracle considering all of the men who had been living aboard...John looked completely transformed. Bearded. Bemused. Beautiful. I felt like Alice descending down the rabbit hole as we departed Cape May. The 14 hour motor sail to Chesapeake City only deepened my sentiments of confusion. Crossing the Delaware Canal at midnight was surreal. I would have sworn I was dreaming except for the fact that I couldn't stop shivering. John and I spoke of many things...too many things...childcare challenges...middle age biting....love not fading...and we followed the little white lights that led us to the city dock around 1:00 AM. We spent the day searching for moments of surprise. Beautiful evening picnic of pizza on the town gazebo...another grueling 9 hour motor sail to Annapolis the next day...we were all singing the diesel engine blues! I am still perplexed at how quickly the children and the felines have adapted to this lifestyle...it seems it is hardest for me. I desire to be barefoot, tan, and carefree yet, I am still bogged down by financial worries and tote bags filled with all sorts of nonsense. Slow shedding of things in every port is easing the process of my freedom. Like a snake I'm just taking the time to emerge into my new skin ...Boat people are full of personality...shooting sparks of splendor whenever they speak...truly like they are from a different planet all together. You are dubious I know, but I'll soon send some photos to prove my point!

We all took showers today...Annapolis actually has 1.00 showers reserved for sailors... FABULOUS!!!
French fries from PIPS tasted like manna in the desert (before they tired of it) and now Blake and I are ensconced in a magical coffee shop City Dock Cafe owned by a man with infinitely kind eyes named Gordon. AHHHHH. Life IS beautiful when you take the time to breathe deeply and aim for the middle.

WAITING

2009-11-10T19:50:00.000-08:00

Asked to name one of the things that I detest the most, I would not wait a moment before shouting at the top of my lungs, WAITING! Ironically, that has been my life's paradigm these past three weeks. Women are instinctual waiters...we have waited for men to return home from the sea, from the wild, from the wars. We have waited months in pregnancy for our bodies to prepare for birth. Sometimes, we find that we have waited years for someone to change who never will. Is patience possible without surrendered waiting? Surely, patience can be active and not only passive?!

John and our two cats have arrived safely in Cape May, NJ this afternoon!!! While I am delighted at their speedy progress, I wish that we all could have been aboard as the Vindhler pulled in to that beautiful town. My parents are driving us there on Friday...we will take a few days to readjust to family survival in a living space the size of my sister's deck. Hmmmmm.

The kids got the H1N1 vaccine today. Very bizarre four hour affair. With only 400 doses, many were turned away. The whole thing was very Twilight Zone...complete with a groggy 7:00 arrival. In the front of an already long line stood a nondescript man in a nondescript suit who we were told was giving out the "numbers". He wrote down our names, how many children were with us, and told us we were number 86. Shortly before the clinic was set to open, he moved down the line bossing people about, making us all move back, checking the order of our names. A few minutes later, a mousy woman with a megaphone told us to remain calm...we would all be given a number as someone moved down the line. "WAIT A MINUTE", shouted one irate parent and then another...what about the man with the list..."WE HAVE OUR NUMBERS!" The guy with the "list" had disappeared and the clinic staff knew nothing about him. See what I mean? Very weird. If you go to any clinics look out for those bossy nondescript types with spiral notebooks asking for your name.

My next post will be from our boat...FINALLY! My sister, brother-in law, and their two beautiful girls have helped me deal with "The Great Wait" with much patience and laughter. The boys and I feel so loved by their kindness...My parents also have been remarkable during this time of waiting. I love my family... Miss my friends so much...please send me an e-mail or comment.

Rebecca

Lady Landlocked

2009-10-30T19:59:00.000-07:00

Stubborn is as stubborn does. (What does that mean exactly?) I fiercely refused to give in and admit that our beautiful sons could no longer stay aboard as we finished our final preparations for our beloved home to be safe on the open water. But, somewhere between the snowfall and the concerned call from my father I surrendered myself to the fact that the boys and I needed to abandon ship until John and the cats sailed to slightly warmer waters. Dante, especially, was losing his battle with a bad cold and I realized that perched on a cozy chair in front of my parent's crackling kitchen fireplace was where we needed to be.

Hauling bags off of the boat was bittersweet...ultimately a relief as I watched Blake and Dante's health improve at my parents. Now we have all driven to Virginia to be with my sister Christine, brother-in-law Sam, and two nieces, Catherine and Margaret, for Halloween festivities and general joie de vivre before our voyage.

John has had a revolving cast of great guys who have tasted the salt of the ocean and his tears. Today they are slightly South of Boston. We plan to rendezvous in Annapolis next weekend if all goes well...

My new digital camera arrived in the mail!!! Pictures finally will be forthcoming...hope that all this text alone has not been too DRY...or, as Blake loves to say with the authority of an ancient executioner, boooring!

MARINA MADNESS

2009-10-18T12:25:00.000-07:00

If sharing communal showers, walking in duofolds down dimly lit docks, or dodging large piles of seagull poop does not sound appealing to your feminine sensibilities, let me be the first to inform you that a sailor's life is not for you! MANY times a day, I study my face in our sorry excuse for a mirror and watch for a crazy glint or corner drool drip that might explain just what I am doing in our 37 foot steel can which, actually is only about 27 feet, if you count, as I have been doing lately, livable space. Then I notice that I look younger and happier then I have in years. I remember that I am free of closets overflowing with plastic toys and drawers stuffed with ill fitting clothes. I am an adventurer on the high seas...waiting to taste freedom and face unknown dangers with an optimism only a mother of two young children could muster!

Let the previous paragraph be exhibit A that our lives at the moment are an emotional roller-coaster!

We are hoping and praying to leave the marina docks at dawn on Th. Today is a gloomy FREEZING rain that delights in creeping under our rain gear and giving us the icy grip. We are foiling this discomfort by escaping to our friends house tonight for a warm meal and great company. Oh...and they are also wise parents who have the perfect playroom in their basement...AHHHH CIVILITY!

Deluge Dread

2009-10-04T11:02:00.000-07:00

If anyone in Portland is reading this, who also happened to have stayed up late last night, you know what I speak of is true when I say VOILA LA DELUGE! Since that torrential rain pounding on the windowpanes I have had an image burned in my mind of me in the cockpit, drenched to the bone, resembling a large soggy pile of dirty laundry with a furrowed brow and tearful eyes.

This obsession has manifested itself out of several fears....#1. That once soaked on a boat it is a trial to dry out completely. #2. I will have the dirty clothes of three males rising like, as one woman put it, "an accusation". #3. When the going gets tough I might not get going but, may prefer to curl up in the fetal position and cry.

I'm trying to wrestle these fears down with undeniable facts...#1. The sun does eventually come out, even in the middle of an ocean. #2. No one will have many clothes, so, good grief, how big can the pile really get? #3. Perhaps most importantly, I have handled adversity well thus far...

A. On our first shakedown sail, we lost our dinghy. After finding it, I almost fell overboard trying to retrieve it with a boat hook. I watched my husband leap off of the Vindhler to the small craft and become smaller and smaller. Blake then asked why his father was waving his arms over his head. I was figuring on him starting up the dinghy engine and catching up to us ...no problem. But, the starter cord had ripped right out of the motor thanks to the adrenaline filled gladiator pull he used. He now looked like a small blip on the horizon. All I said calmly as I turned our 37 foot vessel around in a heavy chop was "this is not good". When Blake and I approached, we heard him yelling..."Aim right for me...Hit me honey...HIT ME". The temptation was very strong not to make that final swerve to port (that's left for all of you landlubbers). After a safe rescue, Mom could do no wrong...at least for a few hours.

B. I have handled my battery of pre-voyage physicals and immunizations with relative good humor and a high threshold for discomfort.

C. I have survived running out of food and snacks for our children, with minimal freaking out, as we tried to pull up our anchor for three hours. I refused to cut our tackle when we discovered we were tangled up with two lobster pots. Instead, I had faith someone would come to our aid. Sure enough, a salty lobster boat pulled up and separated the mess in return for a half bottle of gin and some rum. The kids survived and I had a new found admiration for the many good samaritans of the sea.

I am going to sign off...

Those fears are, at least momentarily, down for the count!

HOMELESS

2009-10-02T10:17:00.000-07:00

We are no longer homeowners in the traditional sense! Now that we have officially closed on our house, I am more and more eager to move on to the boat. However, she is not yet ready...she sits dry docked at a marina being worked on and readying herself for a new motor which goes in next week. We will be down to the wire for arriving at Portland Yacht Services on October 10th for our bon voyage party...

Meanwhile, I am still sifting through piles and preparing mentally at my dear friend's home...also the mother of Blake's best friend...all of which means we are having one crazy wonderful time.

Freedom to travel and explore has come at a price. But, we are feeling a slight delirium at the future prospect of no mortgage payments, credit card bills, etc.etc.etc...

Family and friends begin to become simultaneously terrified and excited as our departure draws closer. I start to have nightmares of pirates and canned spams as large as our boat...

As with any crucial moment in life, you ask yourself how you possibly ended up at this decision...at this adventure...at this finesse or folly...

A straight line connecting the dots never seems evident to me. It's more of a tangled, confusing, beautiful destiny ball that I hope one day to fathom.

I do understand that this journey is a rare opportunity to connect with my family and my self apart from the daily spinning of my suburban gerbil wheel. I've hopped of and am confused by that lack of routine even though it made me feel slightly sick.

Dreams that I had in my youth have also begun to resurface and I regard who I have become, how I define myself, in a new light. A longer, more honest gaze is less forgiving than the sideways glance which I used to momentarily throw.

Then again, maybe all of this sentiment has more to do with a mid-life crisis then with our journey...Referred to as the wrong side of forty by another woman is bound to put any sane female in to a funk...Of course, while men typically regress into adolescent behavior, we women use middle age as a catalyst for dream search and recovery missions, advanced self growth, and enlightened awareness...Right?!

So, bring on the boat, baby...I'm ready for my voyage to begin...

Of course, before we get to that point, I'm sure I'll have many more tangents and questions answered like...Why do they call the toilet on a boat the head...How is it possible to feed a fussy eight year old gourmand out of a can or freeze dried ration??? Will we smell like musty sneakers for days on end...Will Edna and Gigi look like slow moving sausages once they don their life preservers??? Can there really only be one captain...How will I survive my toddlers tantrums with no hot bath to run to????

Drowning in boxes

2009-09-23T20:16:00.000-07:00

Here I am surrounded by sifted piles of stuff. Amazing when all you have is a 10 by 10 storage space and a floating locker what you can let go of.

I'm so excited to embark on this journey...I peel the possessions away and feel lighter despite the pain of letting go...

OK, so we're not literally floating off in a bottle. But, I imagine those bottles that used to impossibly hold little model ships, intricately set inside. Our family will be within our own tight confines, the beautiful 37' Dutch Yawl VINDHLER...and like the infamous message in a bottle, we wont know our final destination until we arrive.

Our crew consists of my beloved husband John, first mate PRIMO(aka Blake who is eight), Dantesauras, our two year old, and the courageous felines Edna and Gigi.

Stay tuned for the pre-adventure madness.