Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Like all good moms, my screensaver scrolls through my photo folder. And since I've taken a thousandfold more pictures on this trip than I did in all the years that preceded it, most of the pictures that flicker past are boat-related.

It would be easy to slide down into the caramel-coated Pit of Nostalgia every time I see how utterly adorable the girls were when we started out. I mean, look at this:

Smashing the squee-meter

But, lately, those early-day photos remind me of what a huge mental adjustment we had to make to succeed as cruisers. Erik was coming off years of constant travel and round-the-clock work. Stylish was in school full-time. Indy and I darted between swimming lessons, music group, library storytime, and all of the other activities that fill a city toddler's days. In short, we were people with a schedule, and we knew how to keep it.

Moving the boat, part 1: Noumea

It was tough to choose the first photo for this post. On the one hand, most of our time in Noumea looked like this:

Not a holiday.

Things I've Learned This Week

1. Nothing makes a child happier than a new tool kit...

...especially when she gets to decorate it herself.

We Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig In Our Mine The Whole Day Through

Snow White and the Seven Dwarves isn't one of my favorite Disney movies. I am going to generously describe the heroine as "insipid" and leave it at that. But the film does have a few snappy tunes, among them the first half of Heigh Ho. Oh, you didn't know the beginning was a completely different (and superior) song? Before all of that boring whistling, the dwarves sing about working in their mine. To wit:

We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig
In our mine the whole day through
To dig dig dig dig dig dig dig
Is what we like to do

It ain't no trick to get rich quick
If you dig dig dig with a shovel or a pick
In a mine! In a mine! In a mine! In a mine!
Where a million diamonds shine!

We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig
From early morn till night
We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig up
Everything in sight

We dig up diamonds by the score
A thousand rubies, sometimes more
But we don't know what we dig them for
We dig dig dig a-dig dig.

Back in the day, preschool-Stylish immediately took to this song, and we both learned the words. Don't ask me why, but we used to sing it in the car as we drove around on errands. This was long before Erik got into mining, so I am going to claim that we were prescient. Perhaps this was the clairvoyant version of, "if you can't beat'em, join 'em."

Communication Breakdown: Helping Family Let Go

Around about now, I expect I am somewhere on the East coast, dining out with friends.  Worried about exactly where I am? I'm used to that. Back in the day, some well-meaning family members got a little nervous about our whereabouts, too.

Originally posted as Calling All Worrywarts, or, Next Stop, 1996! on December 15, 2010
As this little blog has grown, I have gotten the odd bit of mail from you, my dear readers.  Most of it is kind.  Some of it is mystifying.  But much of it comes from landlubberly types.  With that in mind, it is time for the educational (or, as Stylish, age 3, would have put it, edumacational) portion of our blog.  This will take the form of a Q&A with concerned readers Heckle and Jeckle.  Today's topic is:

When do we call the Coast Guard?

 

"I'm concerned about this sailing business, old bean!"

Love and Marriage Aboard

One of the questions I get with some regularity is: how has cruising affected your marriage?  And I understand why people want to know.  I do.  People are awed by the prospect of spending 24/7/365 with another person, even someone they love.  But this is a question I have avoided so far, because usually it comes from about-to-be-cruisers, and what they are really asking me is, "Is cruising going to be great for my marriage?  Please reassure me."

And I will.  Sort of.  But I'm going to make this an inductive argument, so hold my hand and be patient.

Am I Still A Cruiser When I'm Not Sailing?

I spent Wednesday evening packed into a small cafeteria with two hundred other parents.  As we listened to Stylish's principal talk about school rules and signing homework planners, I smiled to myself as I thought of how many similar "welcome to the new school year" talks I'd been to in years gone by.  French or English, here or there, every primary school seems to follow the same script.  Just the like the birthday party Indy attended the weekend before.  Same kids, same moms, same presents, same activities.  Except for the language, it was just like home.

A chill ran down my spine as the realization hit me.  I am living my old, pre-boat life: staying in one place, husband away working, kids in school, me running the household.  Am I even a cruiser anymore?

Denial and Other Adventures in Avoiding Reality

Everyone has their own way of dealing with life's unfortunate events.  Some people eat.  Some people cry.  Some people exercise until they fall down from exhaustion.  As for me, I grew up in a strong WASP-y tradition.  That means when the weather is hot, I'm accustomed to spying men in kneesocks and long shorts.  When it's Sunday dinner at Grandma's, we eat roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.  And when reality serves me something I don't want to deal with, I hide.

Mentally, of course.  You can't physically hide from reality - that would look ridiculous.  Did Lord Grantham lock himself in a cupboard when Downton was circling the drain?  No.  Like all good avoiders, he just locked himself into a mental pattern of "la la la, this isn't happening, I don't have to change my ways, oh good there's the gong, let's all dress for dinner."  And while some of us aboard Papillon take a, shall we say, more Teutonic approach to unwanted events, some of us are just chasing distractions while we wait for the metaphorical dinner gong.

Our cloud on the horizon is work.  This is a cloud-that-isn't-really-a-cloud.  Work means money means we can keep sailing... just not for a while.  The bad side of work is that it will remove Erik from the equation for a time.  Oh, the work will be exciting, and he has a great team, and he'll be home as often as he can, but nonetheless.  The whole point of this trip was to spend time as a foursome.  I'm selfishly sad to give that up, even for a little while.

So, how have we hidden from our woes?

Cookie Overload

I haven't eaten a healthy thing in four days now.  I am going to have to go on a vegetable IV drip if this keeps up.  Since Erik started on his Christmas Baking Frenzy, we have switched our four food groups to sugar, flour, butter and chocolate.  So much deadly deliciousness in such a small package.

It is hard to say how this came about.  Perhaps Erik was feeling lonely.  This has been our first Christmas without family since 2010, and only our second ever as a foursome.  Perhaps he just missed his mother's Christmas baking, which is understandable, as the woman is a champion.  But, whatever the reason, Erik got in a baking mood.

Just in case it has somehow escaped your attention, Erik only has two modes: full out, or full stop.*  And, like his mother, he mentally takes the number of people he is ostensibly cooking for and multiplies it by ten.

I found Erik at the computer, merrily typing away.
"I thought you were going to bake cookies," I said.
"I am."
I looked over his shoulder.  "That's Excel."
"Well, I have to make a shopping list, don't I?"
"One point two kilos of butter?  A kilo and a half of sugar?"  I shook my head.  "I have the basics here, you know.  Can't you just make some cookies from what we have?"
"You don't have everything I need," said Erik.  "Not the specialty ingredients.  This way we can plan to have these items in stock every December.  You know, if you'd just let me set up a Kanban system for you..."
But I had already fled to safety.  I know better than to stick around when the Kanban talk flares up.

Testing the Rig and the Bonds of Family

Look at that.  We have been re-yawled!  If I hadn't checked my bank account this morning, I'd never know the mizzen had been missing.  Now that the riggers have moved on to greener pastures (or more needy mains), we are ready to go.  The weather, however, has other plans; New Zealand is keeping us clasped tightly to her bosom via a never-ending series of lows passing over the north island.

Wind, rain, and more wind

Now, nothing says optimism like inviting guests who were sick all night the last time they came to stay. Who better to help test the new rig during a gale?  Aside from the fact that we always have a good time together, the added benefit of asking my cousin to sail with us is that, should anything go wrong, I would never, never, ever hear the end of it from my family.  The Papillon crew is keen on high beta manoeuvres.

Reaching Racing Saturation

I'm wearing my headlamp - that means I'm actually working, not taking a break.

Everyone needs a way to unwind.  Absolutely, they do.  Reading.  Running.  Ping pong.  Sailing, for example. But here we sit, still fixing our rig, and ways to relax are thin on the ground.  We've read all our books.  We've walked all of the scenic walks.  We can't swim here.  There is no wind, so we can't break out the sailing dinghy.  And so we fall back on that old standby, the internet.

Sometime during the Gangnam Style era, the girls introduced their father to YouTube.  Erik has never been a computer person; until that point, I'm pretty sure he thought computers were strictly for Excel, Power point, and Halo.  But now he has discovered that he can find sailing blogs.  And sailing photos.  And sailing videos.

Which Passage Were You On?

It is a banner day here on Papillon - we have completed our first passage since last January when the forestay parted and we made an unscheduled six-month stop in Whangarei.  This was only an overnight hop, but we were out at sea! and we got from there to here with barely a hiccup.

It has been a long time since I have been able to write to you, dear readers, about actual sailing stuff.  You have kindly put up with my posts about fixing the rigging, and living in the yard, and all of the cruising-related activities that have nothing to do with boat-on-water + wind = fun.  So now that we are back in motion, the natural thing would be for me to write about our passage.

But we didn't just have one passage, did we?  We had four.

Three Weddings on a Distant Shore

When I was six years old, I slept over at a friend’s house to watch The Royal Wedding.  I refer, of course, to Prince Charles and Lady Diana.  I remember it being A Big Deal in that distant, background way that kids treat all events not directly related to themselves.  Meaning, it was something adults wouldn’t stop talking about.  The closest I came to being interested in the proceedings was that I had a pretty picture of Lady Diana cut out from the Globe and Mail, which I liked because my mother had the same hairstyle.

The big day came, and my friend’s mother dragged us out of bed at some ungodly hour to sit in front of the television.  And the wedding went on and on.  I am blessed with minimal patience, and I remember wondering when they were going to just get on with it.  I guess the church was neat, and Lady-now-Princess Diana wore a fancy dress, and I suppose there must have been singing.  But my friend and I squirmed and sighed and wriggled on the carpet until we couldn’t stand it any longer, and we ran out to play in the backyard.  And that was my first electronic wedding.