Introspective Retrospective

Here we are, a full year since we moved aboard. And what better way to celebrate it than to bore all 3 of our blog readers with some stats, some thoughts, and some remarks? Buckle up, readers, this is going to be riveting!

In the words of my 30-year-old self, I can say, without fear of overstating, much less of being wrong, that this past year has been pretty fucking awesome. Honestly, that phrase sums it up. And although at 41 I should be able to come up with something more sophisticated, maybe even literary, when it comes to total and absolute bliss and happiness I'm hard pressed to find better words. Think about it: I'm living a dream that was born in 1988 after reading Robin Lee Graham's Dove; my wonderfully loving and caring and understanding wife has not only embraced but also appropriated the dream; and my kids continue to frequently state that "this is the best day ever." We're all thriving, we're all learning, we're all happy.

The uneasy and somewhat nervous smile in October/2013, replaced by a more relaxed attitude and posture in the cockpit while sailing in July/2014

We have sailed over 2,600 nautical miles in the last 12 months (for the nautically challenged, that's over 4,800 km; and for the metrically challenged, that's over 3,009 statute miles; and this is where I stop translating units). It's a modest distance, considering the current state of transportation technology. But we've seen so much and learned so much while travelling that distance! From the Chesapeake to Florida, on to the Abacos, the Exumas, the Jumentos and the Raggeds, and back to Florida. We've covered that distance at such slow speed that we've had ample opportunity to get to know the places we've seen. Our average speed for the 12-month period is approximately 0.3 knots (0.55 km/h or 0.34 mph).

Our anchoring platform has seen its good share of use and abuse. The anchor has plowed the bottom in 88 different locales. A few more if we count the few quick stops we made along the way, places where we didn't spend a night (the beautiful beach in Pelican Harbour comes to mind). By the way, don't forget to check out our map of anchorages if you want to see all the different places where we've anchored and slept.

Beach in Pelican Harbour, looking east from Sandy Cay

When we look back to our first few weeks after leaving Spring Cove Marina in Maryland, we are amazed at how much we've learned. Every mile we sailed, we learned something new about the boat, about the waters we were traversing, about ourselves. And when we went ashore we learned something new about the societies that inhabit the places we visited. It's the multiple whammy of learning while travelling!

Obviously, not everything has been picture perfect. The boat requires constant attention. Our watermaker stopped working in the Abacos and we had no idea what could be wrong with it. Out came the manual, out went a couple of emails, and within a couple of days we had the issue more or less figured out. It wasn't a big deal, but at the time it felt like a major annoyance. We have been mostly diligent with boat maintenance and fortunately our onboard systems have performed flawlessly. The few things that broke weren't crucial and we were able to fix them promptly.

Then there's the lack of space. There are 4 of us living aboard Taia; spaces get tight. Sometimes all 4 of us need to be in the galley, either getting something or on our way to the cockpit. If people could see us when that happens they would laugh hard at this family of lemmings, bumping into each other and completely tangled up.

It's been a good year. For me, happiness is a fleeting concept: once you find it, it evaporates easily. It needs to be nurtured constantly. Now is the time to be happy. I am ferocious and voracious in the pursuit of happiness.

Looking back, it's been a wonderful first year