cooking and eating aboard.

Before we left Racine in September, I actually had the forethought to prepare some food. When we did our shakedown cruise at the beginning of August, I hadn't. I had ingredients for the most basic dishes but didn't take into account the whole "being-below-deck-and-being-tossed-around-while-cooking" thing into account. In a not very proud moment, I now admit that we subsisted on protein bars, granola bars, and fruit snacks for the entirety of our time underway (read: under sail or motoring). It was gross. When your sleep schedule dictates that you're awake for four hours and asleep for four hours, you have weird eating patterns too. I was eating 2 protein bars every 4 hours around the clock. They weren't the high calorie ones so really I was only eating 350ish calories every 4 hours. Nutritionally it could have been worse but still not stellar. Plus eating sweet around the clock was wearing. 

This go round I vowed I'd do better and I think Josh would agree that I have. Before we left I did one big last big grocery haul and prepped a bunch of items plus grabbed some staples to have for when we were in port and could cook. My goal was to make stuff we didn't mind eating cold, (as using the stove isn't ideal underway--at least while sailing) and found appetizing and at least semi nutritious. In addition to what I made, I also picked up some fresh fruit, cheese sticks, and carrots. I made: Thresher burgers (non Hamiltonians may know it as maid rites), pulled pork, dill pickle dip, sliced cheese and sausage, boiled eggs, and egg casserole. Mostly I was on the money. I bought pretzel thins for the dip, crackers for the cheese, and Hawaiian rolls for the meats. Plus we got fruit snacks and granola bars (you would think we would be sick of them, but no). 

For the entirety of our time on the Great Lakes, this is how it went. I would pop into a grocery store when we're in port and pick up ingredients to make another recipe so we weren't always eating the same thing. Last time I added a hot sausage dip and chicken salad. I would do all the cooking at the dock before we cast off and we would eat it all cold unless we were in port. 

I will say that our menu widened once again after we started on the Erie Canal were strictly motoring. I made chili, quesadillas, spaghetti, home made pizza, and some casseroles because the water was completely calm and I could actually cook underway. Three cheers for hot lunches and dinners!

Now it's a mixed bag and I suppose it will continue to be as much until we reach the Bahamas. With the transition back and forth from sailing and motoring as conditions warrant, we will be flexible. My goal is for us to always be satiated and for some sort of balance, especially for Fozel. We've been really lucky and I've been able to get plenty of fresh produce for him. He eats a fruit and a vegetable at every meal (except breakfast...I don't insist on the veggie then) and a glass of milk at least two of the three meals. When provisioning options are scarce or we are scraping the bottom of the cabinets, as we sometimes do (way more frequently than when we lived on land, I will say), we do eat canned veggies and fruit. Not my favorite options, but flexible we must be. I don't have a ton of cooking pans, and with only three small burners, a full stove is not realistic anyway. I cook food in shifts so it's not always piping hot, but it works. No one complains. I will say that my most valuable pan has turned out to be a little nonstick omelet pan. I use that thing for EVERYTHING. I make eggs, grilled cheese, and most importantly, to reheat leftovers. I'm telling you right now, I could not do it without this pan. Guys, how did people reheat leftovers before microwaves?? We never planned to take a microwave because 1) we don't have the space and 2) it pulls to much electricity, but now I think long and hard about what I cook in advance. What will and won't reheat well? You know what does't reheat easily? Meatloaf. At least not yet. I will do some noodling and get back to you guys but for now, meatloaf is going to have to be a cold leftover. 

unexpected delays

It's impossible to plan for every contingency. No matter how much you prepare, something can always happen that you did not expect and it is important to be flexible enough to be able to adjust when such things happen. In our case, a friend passed away unexpectedly back in Illinois. Ann needed to fly home to be with her friend in her time of grieving, so we decided that I would stay with the boat in New York and make sure not to keep it tied up anywhere longer than the allowed 48 hours. We were very fortunate in where we were when this tragedy struck. We just so happened to be stopped on Oneida Lake where a good friend, and former coworker, lives. Jon and Beth Norman were kind enough to offer us the use of their home and one of their cars. This has made all the difference in our ability to work out the logistics of getting Ann to and from the airport as well as letting me take care of some projects while Ann is gone. We will be forever in their debt. It is times like that this that make me reflect on two very important things. The first is that life is short and precious, the second is that there are good people and when you find them, hang on to them. The funeral that Ann is attending is for the husband of one of her friends from school. They went to school together from 1st grade through high school. Her husband was my age. They have two young children. Life can be taken away from you at any time, so make the most of every day. This just goes to reinforce our decision to take this trip now rather than waiting for someday, because there is no guarantee that someday will ever come. The Normans didn't think twice about inviting us into their home, feeding us, helping us find everything we needed in town. It is something we should all be willing to do for our friends. These are people who exemplify what it means to do unto others as you would have done unto you. They are the kinds of friends that everyone deserves to have.

he said...she said chronicles chapter 3

The next morning they slept in. The boy was staying with his grandparents while they tried to get the boat to New York. The only good part about him being away was that there was the opportunity to sleep in and the knowledge that he wasn't having to suffer through the bad days. 

The wind and waves were still sloppy when they checked in the morning, but the forecast showed that there would still be a nice window that afternoon to take off. 

Ann went for a run and Josh got a few more things stowed that had been taken out to dry. She returned and they showered before they wandered back into town and grabbed some coffee and a bite to eat. 

Back at the boat they prepared to get underway once more. They slipped the dock lines and departed without fanfare. The waves were still rolling pretty high as they dodged fishing boats leaving the harbor. The winds had shifted though and this time Josh made clear his intentions to head east. 

Ann offered to take the first watch. Josh knew she was feeling green, but figured she thought it'd be better on deck for a while, so he went below and finished his book. The coffee earlier want going to let him rest yet. 

The wind, once again, conspired to foil the easterly path. "I've been trying to head up as much as I can" Ann said when Josh came on deck to relieve her. The wind forecasted out of the East was shifting north and heading them. It was getting pretty light to top that, so they used the iron auxiliary to supplement their speed. The light air did allow the waves to subside though. 

The wind was gradually building and moving back to the East, lifting the boat into a North- Northeast course. It wasn't as easterly a course as Josh wanted, but taking would have them going south of East, so it would have to do. 

The sunset over Wisconsin and had a tint of red too it. Josh hoped it would bring the sailor's delight. 

As he settles into his watch, he eased the throttle and the sails kept them moving along at a good enough clip, so he decided to secure the engine and coast along under sail. 

They had reefed before Ann went off watch in anticipation of building wind over night. Josh was not anxious to make the same mistake twice. He knew they could make more speed through the relatively flat waters with full sail, but didn't want to end up overpowered while Ann was on watch later that night. 

She got up once to use the head, but otherwise appeared to be getting some good rest. The gentle motion tonight should make for great sleeping. Josh hoped it would hold for a while. If they could keep this course and speed they'd be to the upper peninsula by late Sunday afternoon. That's not the way the weather works though. 

It was stable for now. The dying breeze left calm seas. The Automatic Identification System (AIS) showed a large bulk carrier off port quarter. Josh tried hailing them using the Digital Select Calling (DSC) feature of the radio, but had no luck. He had yet to have someone respond to the direct call. Still, it was a comfort to have the ship's name, position, speed and heading beamed directly to your hands. The fact that it handled calculating the closest point of approach and time to the closest point of approach just made Josh lazy. No need to make up a maneuvering board and do the math. It was also nice not having to burn the power that RADAR would eat up. 

Shortly after 1 AM, Ann was on watch by herself. Josh had already been up once to help shorten sail. A light appeared on the horizon. It looked like a small orange/ white triangle. Ann kept an eye on it and it appeared to be getting bigger rather quick. She opened the laptop and started studying the charts. She saw nothing that could be an aid to navigation anywhere in the vicinity. It seemed to be getting closer, bigger too fast to be another boat out here. She decided to watch it for a few more minutes before waking Josh. Then it became clear, as the triangle grew into the tip of a crescent, that for minute, Ann had been afraid of running into the moon. She recounted this to him sheepishly as he took over watch at 2 am. 

The building seas made for an uncomfortable ride. Josh knew that if they could get close enough to the Michigan coast, the waves would be much smaller and more manageable.he set his course due East. By the time Ann came on watch at 6, they were still about 10 miles from relief. Josh had started the engine to help plow through some of the worst waves. 

Ann, not looking like she was too excited to be vertical, took the watch like a trooper and listened while Josh explained his plan. He then went below and collapsed. A couple of hours later, he heard Ann shut down the engine and noticed that the motion had calmed. She had brought them into the lee of Michigan and was headed due north towards the Manitou Passage on a beam reach. 

That morning's watch went very smooth for Josh. He unfurled the jib and soon was surfing down waves. The impeller recorder 8.1 knots through the water while the chart plotter showed 7.6 knots speed over ground. It was as fast as he'd seen Interlude move. 

Josh stayed south of the shipping channel as they passed the Manitou Islands. Had there been more time, he would have suggested a stop, but between it being so late in the season, and the ideal conditions for making distance, he decided it was best to keep moving. 

A beautiful day of sailing in the protected lee of Michigan was going to capped off with another night of building seas and winds. Passing Cat Head Point, the waters to the east opened up and the longer fetch allowed the swells to grow. The winds had been building and were predicted to continue that way into the darkness. 

Interlude was chugging along at 7+ knots as though she didn't want another night of this either. Josh had the evening watch and got tucked in with the reef still in the main, and the jib half furled. The course was set for the Grey's Reef channel. Once through there, it would be a couple of green cans to starboard then the Mackinaw bridge. That would signal the transition from the home waters of Lake Michigan to the conquest Lake Huron. 

It was 4:10 on Monday morning when the giant span of the Mackinac bridge looped directly overhead. Josh was tempted to wake Ann to see it, but she was in the middle of her off-shift sleep and he thought she'd rather have her rest. 

As the sun lit the morning sky from behind a heavy bank of clouds, the rain refused to stop altogether. It would spit and stop and spit and stop. 

Lake Huron must have known of the plans to duck into Rogers City and get some recovery time, so she let loose some of her heavy stuff that morning. Though Hammond Bay isn't huge, it gave enough room for the strong southerlies to build a few waves. 

They would make short work of the distance though, harnessing the building wind to over 7 knots of boat speed with a reefed main and a reefed jib yet still being overpowered. Josh estimated that they were seeing low twenties with gusts into the high twenties. 

Rogers City was just what they needed. A quiet little marina. Decent docks, helpful staff, and friendly people. It was almost exactly 47 hours since they pulled out of Sheboygan.

***

The morning was unhurried. Ann went for a sunny run north along the lake, following a paved footpath into the hills of the wealthier part of town and past the beach where the blind sailors were racing. Josh did some tidying and organizing while she was gone and when she returned they both showered, dressed and walked along the river to a local coffee spot called weather center cafe. Thy walked back along the same path and prepared to take off. 

As they were pulling out of the mouth of the harbor they skirted some charter fishermen. The waves were 2-3 feet and the wind was blowing. The sails were hoisted and off they went, sailing on a starboard tack north toward the manitou islands. 

Ann stood the first watch, strumming her uke, adjusting the sail trim and adjusting course as they went. The sky was clear and bright and the temperature was comfortable. The day progressed without incident, watches changing every four hours, Josh and Ann exchanging details of what was happening on each watch before retiring below to rest up. 

Around 1 am, Ann noticed a bright white light on the horizon. It was brighter than any of the navigation lights she had encountered thus far. As it grew larger and brighter, she felt a sense of panic rise inside her chest. She consulted the chart plotter and the navigational charts and saw no markings for anything of the sort. They were in the middle of the lake in the middle of the night. What could it possibly be? She stifled the urge to rouse Josh before she knew what it was but still it seemed to be growing out of the horizon, rising out of the inky water. The white light began to take shape. A peak came into view and what looked like a jib sail that was completely illuminated. The rest of the brightness came over the horizon  and Ann could see the bottom of this phantom sail curve around and make the bottom edge of what turned out to be a crescent moon. She had to chuckle at her own panic over colliding with the rising moon. 

Seas began to build and up to this point Ann's stomach had been feeling iffy at best. No trips to empty her stomach had been needed but if things became much worse she wasn't sure how long that would last. Josh remembered they had some seasickness medication and got some for her before the next watch and almost magically and instantly she felt better. The sleep she got was better and she was sharper. 

While her stomach was better, the seas had become unmanageable and the rocking was constant but unrhythmic. When Ann came back on watch at 6, the sun was still an hour away from rising. The gray sky slowly brightening to port was a reminder of hopefully calmer conditions to come. They starboard tack they were on had helped them north but had done little to reach the opposite shore. Josh told Ann his plan to get closer to the Michigan shore to seek some calmer seas and then to carry on north. She did her best to slowly steer closer to the wind to seek the shelter and ease the discomfort the seas were dishing out and by the time Josh came back on watch at 10, they were just a few miles off the coast of Michigan, once again sailing north on a nice beam reach in much smoother waters. The day carried on with little excitement as they made their way toward the Manitou Islands. They planned to go between them and the shores of Michigan. The channel was wide and well marked and the wind cooperated in their task. 

Night soon fell and so did the rain. They closed up the cockpit with the canvas  and only got slightly wet where the continuing rain saturated the top of the bimini to the point it could hold no more and dripped here and there al over the cockpit. The rain was just a piece of the puzzle. This dark night was also the night they would encounter the straits of mackinac. Having yet to navigate at night, Ann was understandably nervous. The rain sluicing down the forward windows coupled with the boat bouncing up and down on the waves made visibility low. The red and green buoys blinking in the distance marked their path. As there was a trail of them, guiding them toward safe passage, it was hard to judge which was closest and which ones followed. Using the charts on the computer and the chartplotter, they picked their way north and then east around the buoys safely toward the mackinaw bridge. 

Once they got through the stickiest portion, it was time for Ann to go off watch and rest up. She would miss sailing under the bridge itself, lit up 155 feet over the north end of Lake Michigan. 

She came back on watch at 6 and was tasked with finding a place to pull in for a night before they carried on. She navigated a few reefs along the south channel route they had taken and then set to work poring over the waterway guide book they had. Ann was nothing if not fastidious. There were a few options on the table but she hoped they could have some wifi so they could check email and FaceTime the babe and do laundry. Rogers City was a good compromise. The town was walkable from the marina and had what they needed. They carried on until around 1 pm when then navigated the winding navigational channel into the tiny marina. 

he said...she said chronicles chapter 2

Ann lay flat on her back on the cool concrete. She didn't even realize she was adjacent to the dumpsters. 

"Trying to get my land legs back," she said without opening her eyes. She heard Josh come out of the men's room. The priority after pulling in was to find a toilet that stayed still while you did what needed to be done. 

It had been a long night for both of them. They had waited for the best weather they thought they'd see based on the 10 day forecast. It started out all right, but had deteriorated in the middle of the first night. 

Mackinaw Island would be 48 hours if they could head straight there, but between the wind and the seas on Lake Michigan, straight there was not an option. 

The weather in the fall was far from steady, with fronts being impacted from every direction, the Jet Stream, Pacific storms, Atlantic storms. All of it reeking havoc on voyage planning. 

When they left Racine, Josh had intended to cross the lake and wait for the Easterly wind shift to head north on, but in the middle of the night, they'd decided to tack on Ann's watch. Josh was groggy with sleep and he hadn't explained his plan clearly. Ann didn't want to wait until he was in a deeper sleep and had thought it wise to tack early rather than risk getting too close to the coast. 

It was beautiful sailing when Josh came back on watch. He didn't think much of having tacked to Starboard, that is until Ann was deep asleep and he wind was building. The only item on his checklist that didn't have a mark next to it was "run the feeding lines". A lot of good it would do at this point though, he wasn't going to wake Ann and have her sit at the helm while he went out on a rolling deck at night to reef he main. 

How many times, and from how many sources, did he need to hear, "reef early", "if there's a chance the wind might build overnight, reef while it's still light out"? 

He furled in half the jib. It helped, but not enough. They were still overpowered. Nothing made that more apparent than when Ann came out for her watch. It was 1 AM and it was clear that she was in no condition to pay attention to what the boat was doing. 

"You feeling alright?" He ask, knowing the answer, but trying more to judge her spirits by the response. 

A silent look before positioning herself with her head over the leeward lifeline was not the answer he was hoping for. After her prayer to Poseidon was over, Josh told her to go lay back down. 

"Can I lay out here?" The cool moving air of the cockpit must have felt better than below deck. All of the hatches and portlights had been closed up tight since waves we occasionally breaking over the bow. 

"Of course. Can I get you anything?" 

"Mmmm, no. It won't stay down anyway" 

That was enough to solidify the decision to head for closest protected waters. According to the chart plotter, that would be Sheboygan, WI. Josh kicked himself having not shared his plan to stay closer to the Michigan side of the lake. They could have been in white Lake or Pentwater instead of back on the same shore they'd left about 12 hours prior. 

He knew it was the right thing to do though. He was going to be standing watch until they got there and it was the closest port. He plotted the course, then pulled up the harbor in his reference books and on the computer to study the entrance and find somewhere to stop or drop the anchor. 

The last 3 hours, he ran the engine, the waves had continued to build and with the job furled the rest of the way in, and a full main still flying, he wasn't making very quick progress and he knew he needed to get there and get the boat stopped before he'd get his first mate back to a human like state.

It was a little before nine on Friday morning when they approached the breakwall lighthouse. A race committee boat had sped out past them and there were small sails converging at the mouth of the marina they were going to be pulling into. They were agile and appeared to be well driven, though after the long night, Josh wished they'd have allowed for a little more maneuvering room at the harbor mouth. 

Ann pulled the boat quietly into the slip as Josh stepped onto the dock with the bow line. They had made it through their first night at sea. 

The waves were going to continue to build all day, but should start to subside overnight and into Saturday as the wind shifted to the East. That sealed it. They'd stay the night. 

The night had been almost as rough on Interlude as it had been on them. The Lazy Jacks separated from the boom in two places and the slug attached to the head of the mainsail had chaffed through on the aluminum headboard. 

After taking care of the necessities at the marina, they got to work fixing the main and the lazy jacks. The little leaks that dipped when it rained, let a little more water in the decks are awash, so cushions were pulled out in the sun to dry. 

A gentleman was preparing a rigid hull inflatable in the next slip to go out. 

"What's with the small boats out there?" Josh asked. He assumed, rightly, that this man had something to do with the racing. 

The man hopped back into the dock and walked over to introduce himself. "My name's Bernard. There are two things happening." He was quite excited to explain that we had happened into both the Women's match racing series and the blind sailing world championships. (You read that right.)

Bernard was a part of the organization that ranked the sailors vision for the system of determining fairness. He invited us to a cookout that evening at the yacht club adjacent to the marina before leaving to go watch the racing. 

All the necessary tasks completed as best the could be, Josh and Ann collapsed onto the dinette berth. It had been about four hours before he felt her move. He was in the same position he landed in when he later down and his body scolded him for that. 

Ann was on deck staying quiet as a mouse thinking he was still asleep. If I don't get up, I won't sleep tonight he thought. He wasn't sure that was true, he might have been able to sleep through the night. It had been a long time since he'd pulled an all nighter, much less one where he had to prop himself so he would crash across the cockpit at the odd roll. 

He got up. Surprisingly those four hours did a lot to help the recovery. 

"Wonder what time they start serving over there," he said motioning behind her to the yacht club. 

Ann was afraid she'd woken him when she got up. "Probably before too long." 

They made themselves presentable to the outside world, landers don't understand life on a boat. 

It was a cool evening. The Worlds Largest Grill from Johnsonville was cooking up burgers and brats. There was a beer truck. A band was setting up under a large tent. Josh had eaten a sandwich before they'd left the boat, but he had a night of Ann's brat all the same. They each had a beer and shared some idle chat with strangers around one of the tables. 

Josh was getting antsy. The band was tuning up and it was getting a little load for his tastes. He wanted to find Bernard again though and thank him for inviting them. He saw him in line for a beer and tapped him on the shoulder. 

Bernard introduced them to Walt, the skipper of Team USA 1 in the blind world championships. It was an honor to meet someone who was able to not only sail without sight, but do it competitively. Josh had raced in the past. He knew that it was important to use every sense while at the helm, but trying to imagine doing it without what he considered the primary sense, seemed to almost be beyond possibility. Yet here was a successful skipper of a crew who did it. 

They had beers to deliver back to the rest of the crew, so as they made their way through the crowd, Josh and Ann made their way to the edge of the gathering and decided to take a stroll through the town. 

There wasn't much happening for a Friday night. The town was mostly quiet save for a few restaurants and bars that were doing brisk business. 

They returned to the boat and settled in. Someone at the yacht club had mentioned fireworks and they listened to them as they watched a little television before bed. Josh was the first one asleep.

***

Not only was Ann's stomach filled with anxiety, it was also feeling the effects of the building waves. She offered to take the first watch, knowing that before too long she'd need to be horizontal to sleep some of it off. After a few hours of rolling side to side in the cockpit and a few granola bars in, she had her first encounter with the beast commonly named seasickness. 

Below deck after the first watch and every watch after that was absolute torture. The dim red light casting an eerie glow over everything, rendering them a mute crimson color, did little to ease her discomfort. As soon as she could extricate herself from her life jacket, she pulled the covers up around her neck, barely taking a moment to peel off socks and pants before falling into a deep slumber. They had left the salon berth intact for sleeping underway, easing the pitching by sleeping in the center portion of the boat. It didn't hurt that both she and Josh wedged themselves into the corner of the berth, keeping them stationary for the 4 hours they allowed themselves to rest. 

The remainder of the night followed like that. Wake, totter against the rocking of the waves into clothes and lifejacket, and climb the precariously swaying companionway into the cockpit for the next watch. Mostly Ann read, strummed her ukulele, and listened to podcasts through headphones. She'd snack and every few hours, lean over the railing to empty her stomach of their contents. The night seems worse than the day. The velvety blackness of the sky rendering the horizon obsolete, it felt like falling down a hole. There was nothing on which to fix her gaze that was stationary.

The decision to head to shore was made when they both were too battered to carry on. Unfortunately, the seasickness had rendered Ann's stomach empty and her body too weak to even try to stay upright. The sleep on her off watch time had been taking longer to achieve and she was exhausted. While Josh, the saint that he is, steered a course for Sheboygan, Ann could do little but fall asleep in the cockpit, drained of all her energy and gumption. Once they arrived in the harbor, the waves were blocked enough that she could steer while Josh jumped to the dock to tie up. They took stock of the damage below deck (because with waves beating you continuously for hours you're bound to have some collateral damage in the way of things having fallen off of or into places they don't belong). The offender this go round was a bottle of balsamic vinegar, spilled across the stove top and down the front of the oven to the cabin sole. The odor, sharp and overpowering, clung to everything it had touched. After sopping up the mess and arranging the damp items sodden with lake water that snuck into the nooks and crannies of the interior of the boat, and making a few repairs of things that came loose during the windswept night, they crashed. Four hours of hard sleep for both of them came in almost an instant. 

Ann woke first and took snacks and her kindle on deck to stretch out and hopefully allow Josh more sleep. A full belly and sleep had done wonders for her morale. Shortly thereafter, Josh woke and they brushed teeth (a personal hygiene habit that often gets overlooked on long hauls) and combed hair, etc before joining the real world. 

A fellow dock mate they had encountered earlier had mentioned a cookout at the yacht club next door that was accompanying the races that weekend, one being the world blind championship sailboat races and one the international women's match racing. They couldn't resist the chance to rub elbows with some heavy hitters in the world of sailing and support the local sailing programs. Beer and brats never tasted so good. They ran into Bernard, the dock mate who encouraged them to join in on the festivities that evening.  Bernard was also the sight classifier for the blind racers. He was with the skipper for the American team who couldn't have been nicer or accommodating to their many questions and curiosities. After visiting for a few minutes, they let him get back to his crew. Not knowing anyone there, they decided to get a bit further afield of the marina and yacht club and wandered into the twilight doused downtown. 

The stores were mostly shut up tight for the evening but several restaurants were filled with hungry patrons enjoying the company of family and friends. They wandered back and tucked in for the night, listening to the fireworks being let off on the breakwater outside. 

and now, something completely different...new series! he said...she said

Hello internet and real friends! Just a quick check in and a new post. We are well on our way, as you can see by the map tab at the top of our page. As you may have guessed, we have had lots of hands-free and minds-free time, plenty of hours to wax poetic about our journey. As a result, we have decided to start a new series that will be strictly narrative about our travels written from both perspectives. And did I mention it'll be in third person? Ha! Hopefully you guys won't find it tiresome. The plan is to keep it going until at least NYC. From there we'll reassess, as we will have our munchkin back on board and our free time will not be quite so free anymore. For now, enjoy.

Chapter 1 of the he said...she said chronicles.

Thursday, September 22nd, 2016 at 12:15 PM, the autumnal equinox, they slipped the dock lines for the final time from Reefpoint Marina. Some good friends helped push them off from the fuel dock and they motored out of the Root River for the final time.

Fishermen were busy trying to catch the salmon as they were returning to the river signaling the end of summer and the start of fall.

Josh and Ann waited an extra day for some weather to pass through before taking off. The winds were favorable today though. They were out of the South and were pushing Interlude along nicely on gentle waves. The sun was trying to burn through the clouds, but not quite succeeding. The crew was expecting the wind to back out of the North the evening. The plan was to get some distance east before that happened. According to the weather charts, it looked like the Michigan coast would be more favorable.

Ann and Josh were both nervous that morning. They'd done Lake Michigan, it is not that. But leaving the marina this time signals the transition from what they'd known to the new.

Change is a scary thing and it has stopped more than its share of people from following their dreams. Casting off the dock lines and sailing off into the unknown. We're here. We're "out there". Leaving port is the baby step. The start of a journey of a thousand miles.

***

A sense of trepidation filled her belly. Mind racing, she mentally ticked off the laundry list of items to be stowed, organized and gathered. Ann was sure it was as good as it could be, but that didn't stop her from worrying. It always seemed she'd forget something. Hopefully it would be something they could live without on this first leg. 

When their friends, Pat and Dave waved a final goodbye from the fuel dock as they motored away, she couldn't help but feel the shift. After sitting at the dock in Racine for the past 6 weeks she and her boys had developed a routine, a delicate balanced dance of regularity. Naps, meals, errands, bathing and bedtime were all nestled into the 12.5 hours of waking time each day. And now they were finally throwing it out on its head. 

finally, an update.

I'm a few weeks back from my trip to the British Virgin Islands and I have lots to tell you.

First off, I promise this is the last time I'm away from this blog for so long. It's been hard with a small person needing and wanting all my time and energy and what seemed like this momentous eternity of treading water on this dream of ours. We had some hiccups. Our plan was to leave last fall. Obviously that didn't happen. It was a matter of waiting too late and simply not doing what needed to be done to Interlude that tripped us up. There were so many questions about how and if we were going to proceed with our potential cruising lifestyle this spring. Plenty of things hinged on one major piece of the puzzle. It wasn't whether we could financially make it work, it wasn't whether or not we were prepared to cut our ties with the creature comforts land life afforded us, it wasn't how we planned to raise a VERY busy toddler on a boat. Really, it was me. 

The decision of how to proceed depended on my seasickness. I haven't spoken about it much because it creeps up on me sometimes and not at other times. And when it has crept up on me, I've been down for the count. I start out sleepy, then nauseous and then eventually, occasionally, I vomit. Sorry for the visual, but if you've ever suffered with motion sickness, you feel my pain. It's not really ideal for someone who plans to live and thrive on a boat 24/7/365. Yeah. Imagine being sick all. of. the. time. Sounds miserable, right? The thing is that my sailing experience had been day sails on San Diego Bay (where I NEVER got seasickness), and on Lake Michigan. Any of you who have sailed on Lake Michigan know that she can be a blessing and a bitch. They don't call it the windy city for nothing. What comes with the sometimes spectacular wind is waves. Big, fat, tall waves. And they're super fun when they're coming on your beam. Note the sarcasm. Being tossed isn't fun, but it's a part of sailing.

Which brings me to my second of all....We are going sailing come June. Our cast off date is still based on the weather, of course. We have some projects to get taken care of and some preparing we need to do (more in my next posts about these projects). What lead us here is this: I went to the BVI for sailing school a few weeks ago as a live aboard and I wasn't sick the entire week. I started the few days before sailing school by hydrating myself properly and taking super doses of vitamin c (which I had read about here) starting right before we got on the boat. As long as I kept a snack nearby and kept my fluid intake up, I felt great. And that's how it went for a week. 

Honestly, with all that there was to be done, I don't know that I would have been sick anyway. I took a few American Sailing Association courses with a sailing school out of Nanny Cay in Tortola called Sistership Sailing School. If you are a woman or family looking to get comfortable on the water, I highly recommend looking into this. It was a great practical on the water training. Mostly it was familiar but I did get to experience some new things like: anchoring, mooring, and man-overboard drills. I got more comfortable with docking, jumping (hoisting) the main, and the rules "of the road" of sailing. There are areas I will continue to work on, but I feel confident and empowered by the week I spent sailing with Pat and the other 3 ladies on the crew with me. 

So, I'll be updating this blog more regularly and telling you all about preparations for our departure. We've got some awesome families who are going to help with a few projects that are upcoming and we couldn't be more grateful to them. Looking forward to sharing all that is to come with you guys.

And now, here are some photos from my adventures.

sunday share.

This week brought us to the beginning of July and that meant we needed to make sure all our boat registration and documentation was up to date. When we purchased Interlude, we registered her to have her home port in Racine for tax purposes. Since she's a coast guard documented vessel, this means her hull should have her name and home port on the hull, 4 inches tall and clearly visible. Oops. Up until now, her hull has been emblazoned with Park Ridge IL as her home port (and not even in 4 inch type). 

Last week I ordered the decals from Boat US with the new home port city and when we went up, we applied the new ones. First though, we had to remove the old location (which was painted on). We scoured the internet for advice and found that a solvent and a rag should do the trick, albeit slowly. Acetone is a good option because it won't damage the gel coat and dries very quickly. Luckily we had some acetone on hand and plenty of rags to get us started. Oy! It was slow going. I spent 15 minutes working on one letter with little progress being made. At this rate, it'd take all day! Meanwhile, Josh taped a piece of brown paper bag to the letters on his end and was dampening it over and over with acetone in hopes that it'd loosen the paint and would rub off easier. Josh, the smarty pants he is, thought maybe a scrubber might work and sure enough, it turned our interminable affair into a blink of an eye's worth of effort. 

Once one side was completed, we turned the boat around in the slip so we could get at the other side. It took 30 minutes to clean off both sides, tops. 

Then came the application of the new home port. The instructions were very simple--wipe the surface clean with glass cleaner, put masking tape on either end of the decal (before removing the backing), line it up, put a strip of masking tape down the middle once it's where you want it to be, peel the backing one end at a time, and press down using the squeegee provided. Then repeat with the other end of the decal. Voila! Repeat on the other side. 

out of commission.

As you may have noticed, it's been radio silence around here for far too long. Oopsie. So much for my Sunday share project. BUT I promise to be better. I guess I just feel a bit like I'm by no means an expert on much of anything (boat related or otherwise) and sometimes it's just easier to ignore the blinking cursor at the top of the empty computer screen than try to come up with some clever "thing" we are doing on Interlude. So instead of feeling stuck, I'll just try to write about our life instead of just boat-y things. Sound good? Okay!

on tossing your cookies

Monday was a first. We took Interlude out for a sail knowing it might be windy and did our best to account for that by reefing in the main so we wouldn't be over powered (read: tipped way, way over with the sails practically straining from the force of the wind). What we didn't account for was the 4-6 foot waves. At first it was fine. We motored out, me as the lookout on the bow, the bowspirit bobbing up and then landing with a white capped splash back down. Totally cool. I held on to the railing, flexed my knees to absorb the impact and was a-okay. Then we put the sails up and I was at the helm, which I find greatly improves any feelings of nausea as I am constantly scanning the horizon and generally occupied making sure we are on the right course, taking full advantage of the wind for optimum speed, etc. And I was fine until I wasn't. It crept up on me real slow like. And I chewed some ginger candy and maybe I was feeling okay? It was hard to tell. But then those 4-6 foot waves I mentioned, well they were coming at us crosswise, rolling us from port to starboard instead of bow to stern. So I changed our course and we headed back bow into them. Up and down, rolling from the top to the valley like on the roller coasters that make your stomach feel like its dropping out of the bottom of you abdomen. Over and over, so high I'd lose sight of the horizon and then so low all I could see was the azure water surrounding us and the sound of the hull cutting through them sounds more like slapping than the usual melodious fizzy bubbling. I let Josh steer and laid flat on my back with my eyes closed in the cockpit, breathing through the discomfort. It seemed like it was working one second and then the next I've got my head over the downwind rail tossing my cookies. Did I mention this is the very first time this has ever happened to me (unless my mom can recount some horrible car trip I've blocked from my mind?). I did feel better but as for my future as a sailor, I'd say I've got some serious sleuthing to do on how to nip this in the bud. 

new toy.

A

We got a kayak! 

When I graduated from college oh-so-many-years ago, my dad asked me what I wanted as a gift. Wise old 22 year old that I was, having NO idea where I'd be at the end of that year, let alone in the next 5 years, I proclaimed that I wanted a kayak. 

I can promise you that I was not a die hard kayaker (is that what they call themselves??). I wasn't even an intermediate. Honestly, I don't think I had ever attempted to kayak in. my. life. So why this new found obsession with water sports? Couldn't tell ya. My best guess is that I had dreams of seeing the world from a boat, which is not actually too far from the truth at this point. Oh, and also, then, as now, I am haunted by water. My life is never so fulfilled as when I am in or near water. I am not even kidding. I'm like that girl/mermaid in "Splash". I start to wither up and die (figuratively, of course) unless I get to submerge myself in water on a regular basis. That's why winter is so torturous as a midwestern dweller.  

Majorly off topic there for a minute, but I'm baaaack. Okay. Kayak. A few years ago Menards, of all places, had kayaks as part of their after Thanksgiving sale and I get this call from my dad. "Hey, they have these kayaks on sale. Do you still want one?" And foolishly, I said yes once again (what is wrong with me??). At this point, we do not have a boat, I don't have a roof rack to carry it on the mini to the lake or the river, or even a space in which to store it. Duh. You guys, I'm super smart, if you haven't figured it out. Luckily, I have the super coolest parents around that agreed to store it in the top of their garage for us. Every trip up to see us since that purchase has had some sort of mention about bringing the kayak up. Sort of a running joke. But it's ours at last! They brought it when the visited last weekend and now she's tied up in front of our bow at the dock. I just took her out this morning, as a matter of fact! Between the two of us, we take her out at least twice a week. It's allowed us to explore the marina (and scope out what other types of boats have their home here at Reef Point) as well as paddle up the Root River. I've seen lots of mallards and geese and today I even saw some sort of weasel trying to haul a dead fish from the water. What a wonderful tool to explore with and a great workout too!

sunday share.

This week's share was a joint effort requiring some patience AND some elbow grease. Josh is the Internet surfer of the two of us and looks around for inspiration from other Union 36 owners--how they've modified, DIY'd, or upgraded their vessel to suit their lifestyle. One thing he found while poking around was a few owners who stripped down the teak in their cockpits. Ours, as you can see from the photo was in need of at least a scrape down and new coat of varnish and sealant. We decided that in the name of better traction for wet days and for a nice visual contrast, the cockpit bench will stay unfinished. 

A heat gun, a paint scraper, a chisel (which turned out to be a better scraping tool), and plenty of hours to spend were the key ingredients. I started on Wednesday around noon and finished the cockpit around noon on Friday. Slow and steady, right? Actually, the process was pretty tedious. Blow this crazy hot air from the heat gun over the surface of the teak, and when it blisters, run the scraper or chisel over the surface to pull off the varnish and top coat. Small sections, over and over and over. Some places it would all come off in a swipe, but some places required me to scrape again and again. Also, you have to be very mindful not to leave the heat gun pointed in one place for too long. Oops. There may be a few scorches places that hopefully some sanding and sunbleaching will take care of. We also did some teak on the cabin top. There are some boards inlaid on the fiber glass near the mast and we decided they should be unvarnished/sealed so they would have more traction when you're hoisting the main.

Eventually, all the teak will get stripped and some of it revarnished. The floor grate in the cockpit will stay naked teak once it's stripped, as will the grab rails on the cabin top. For now the boards by the mast and the cockpit bench that were stripped are "aging" in the sun while we are away this week. Next step is sanding to hopefully completely rid the surfaces of any remaining varnish/top coat and then replacing the caulk between the boards on the bench. Looks like I've got my work cut out for me!

Fair winds, and happy Sunday!

Top photo is before and bottom is after.