Because we are happy!
So here, at the end of 2018, are some of the top reasons why living on a boat while exploring the Canadian Islands makes us so happy.
I’ve had lots of fun writing over the last few weeks and covered many things. I’ve tried to explain why we chose to move onto a boat and why we plan to continue. Reading back through the posts, I think all of that boils down to one big reason. Because we are happy! So here, at the end of 2018, are some of the top reasons why living on a boat while exploring the Canadian Islands makes us so happy. We are happy with the opportunity. We realize we are doing something most people will never do, stepping away from the expected path and following a dream. Taking this opportunity has changed our lives. We are happy with the quietness. When we peeled away the meetings and brunches, the traffic and crowds, we placed ourselves in isolation, and we love it. Sarah and I like the quiet, it makes us smile. We are happy living at a pace we choose. Without places to be or people to meet we have control of our schedule, and very few things disrupt our schedule (because we really have no schedule). We are happy managing our time and energy. Our activities are modified by the weather, tides, and the ferry schedules, yet even those are just guides. The choices are still ours and we delight in planning, whether that’s breakfast or our next passage. If we choose, we just sit still while painting and writing. We are happy working together. This is a really great thing because while living amiably together in such a small space is important, on a boat we also have to work well together. We need each other for most boat operations, and we depend on each other for getting all the work done. We are happy leading a more purposeful life. As boaters we have to think about our day-to-day resources as finite, something you forget when in a house hooked to city water and power. Boat life dictates a hands on lifestyle. You become knowledgable and responsible for everything, from stocking up on food to disposing of the waste. We control the basics of day-to-day living and we enjoy the satisfaction this give us. We are happy discovering the world around us. Beautiful islands and bays abound, with deep, clean waters, endless wildlife, and mesmerizing sunsets. We meet new people with new stories, are humbled by fiords lined with snow topped peaks, and wake up each day wanting more. We are happily in love. This is the bonus happy. For us, the mariner’s life makes us appreciate and love each other more than any other lifestyle could. We were made for this and each other.
1 Comment
Reason: Environment/Resource Awareness We are consumers. This indelible fact, above all others, has shaped our lives for thousands of years, guiding our evolution and defining our civilization. In all that time we have gotten very good at not only consuming, but also creating more things to consume. Fear not! You can sigh in relief. In this post, when speaking about the environment or resources, I’m not referring to oil reserves or global warming. I’ll save that discussion for later, after I’ve been committed to an institution and have nothing better to do. Let’s just talk about boats. Move onto a boat and it becomes your environment, and therein lie all the available resources and all the equipment needed to store and deliver those resources. On a boat, every resource is finite. Even the water you drink requires your attention and attendance in a timely manner. You are your own municipality, responsible for finding clean water, adequate storage, installing pumps, plumbing, and controlling usage. (No, clean water doesn’t magically come out of the faucet). Without management, resources can and do run out. Boaters know where their water comes from, how much they can store, and how long that will last. People who live on boats often become the best resource stewards. Ok. So how is this pertinent to the question of why we stay on the boat? Well, both Sarah and I find it rewarding to know about our resources and we take pride in figuring out ways to make them last. When we cruse, we put this knowledge to use, staying at anchor in a perfect little bay for longer then most boats are able to. It also shows us how wasteful you can be when you aren’t paying attention. We are as independent and self sufficient as two people can be, and we love it.
To go back, to loose the feeling of independence we have worked so hard for, would be unthinkable. Reason: Contemplation/Meditation I’ve always enjoyed taking my time to quietly think about things. I may be sitting somewhere outside or driving long distances, but when I’ve been able to turn off the outside distractions, I can begin to ponder my universe. I love to wrestle with a thought for as long as possible. I need to sneak up on it, take a long look before getting too close. Remember Nemo’s Dad, showing Nemo how to exit the anemone? Check and then check again. Maybe one more time? That’s me. I could never be a fighter pilot, making decisions in the blink of an eye. You know these kind of people when you meet them. They may not fly planes, but they can think on their feet and are wickedly good at video games. They are also helpless when it's time to sit still. So here is the second thing I’ve discovered about living on a boat and why I stay. It enables me to relax and shake off the distractions. It is the perfect kind of place to take a long, deep breath, and get back in touch with my thoughts. It helps me understand my world. A little later on it’s up to the deck I’ll go with a pillow and drink in hand, to search for that slow, meditative groove. Eventually, Sarah may come up and ask me what I’m thinking about.
I’ll smile and tell her “Everything.” Reason: JOMO The Joy of Missing Out. When you cherish moments of aloneness. Sarah and I enjoy each others company, we are happy together. We stay living on our boat because we enjoy the moments, hours, and days that we spend alone, just the two of us. We interact with the world in our own, purposeful way. There is no TV, no radio stations, and our one phone is nearly always off. People don’t stop by to visit and we have no way to visit them (no car). We read alone or to each other, we watch downloaded movies, write blogs and yes, even laugh at kitten videos on facebook. We have internet when at the dock and use it often, but as we travel we can loose contact for many days. Our boat is this fantastic, warm Hobbit hole where we can relax, filtering out the rest of the world whenever and however we want. We are poster children for introverts, so this life fits us nicely. If it gets too busy or too noisy, we can just untie from the dock and head for a quiet bay. Does living on a boat require a solitary life style? Absolutely not. There are many places where quiet would be the exception because boaters tend to be a gregarious bunch. You can always find a busy marina and become a part of their close nit community or, like us, squirrel yourselves away among some charming islands where solitude is the norm. Living on a boat gives you the choice, and if it turns out one lifestyle doesn’t agree with you, just pull up the anchor and go discover a whole new place that does. I’ve shared the many reasons Sarah and I decided to move onto a boat. After doing tons of research and reading stories online, we knew we were walking on the right path. Emotionally, we felt ready to run. So now we live on Odyssey, and she’s become our home. We take her sailing or sometimes just bay-hop. In the right season we travel to remote islands, in the wrong season we tuck into a marina to dodge the occasional storm. So, how is it going? Great question. Most importantly, why are we still in a space considered small even for a ‘tiny home’? What compels us to continue this seemingly isolated life style, just the two of us for days or even weeks at a time? In the next series of posts I’ll try and explain why it is working for us and why we plan to live on a boat for as long as possible. It isn’t an easy path we’ve chosen. Many try but soon realize it isn’t the life style they had expected.
It wasn’t quite the lifestyle we expected either. We discovered a world we didn’t know existed. What we found was a way of living that is rewarding, where we are always together, always exploring. Captain and crew, cook and dishwasher, artist and writer. We’ve discovered that even in this busy world, you can still find time enough for love. Reason: Adventure If there is any one thing that has brought more people to the world of cruising, and by default living on boats, it’s the seductive promise of adventure. We seek out boats because, in our minds, they are the physical manifestation of a magic carpet. With enough time, money and hard work, that leaky, moss covered wreak will take us places it has taken no other. It will share its secrets and tell us stories of long ago voyages. It will allow us to fly without the fear of falling. And so, in boatyards and backyards around the world sits the dreams of many, held up by braces and scaffolds, accessed by ladders covered with splatters of paint and varnish. We started with such a boat, 29 feet of sailboat in sad disrepair. She came complete with moss and mold, her equipment old or nonexistent. With a quick inspection I wondered how she was still afloat. Yet she was perfect. All I could see was the magic carpet, and with lots of hard work she became just that. As time went on we learned to sail and learned how to stay on her for longer periods of time. We knew we would want a larger boat someday, something the two of us could comfortably live aboard. It’s been several years, and now we have that larger boat. We were fortunate to acquire her fresh from a complete refit, clean and fixed and ready to go. She was designed and built for two people to explore the world and, for the past two years, we have been doing just that. Adventure or exploration?
At the beginning I wrote that boats hold the promise of adventure, but when I think about it, I should have written that they hold the promise of exploration. We don’t seek unusual and thrilling activities, the things that define adventure. Exploration, the action of traveling in or through unfamiliar places in order to learn about them, really defines for us the lure of a boating life. We have visited new places, met new people, and learned new things about ourselves and the environment around us. As time goes by we will continue to do so. This is the ‘magic’ of our magic carpet. We had a storm last night. I couldn't sleep, I'm thinking the captain in me. By 1am my tired mind began to wonder, and soon a story snuck into the moments between the windy gusts. By 2 I knew I couldn't sleep until i took some notes. It was the end of a story really, and I had no idea how it started. This is what developed and I have no idea why. I hope you enjoy it as much as it has disturbed me to write it. It is offered with a guarded smile, because sometimes the writer has no control over what he writes. Please enjoy The Bells of Otter Bay So many years from childhood, time has added color to my memories of this place, of sunlit summer days filled with endless pirate adventures, and nights around the beach fire, eating two helpings of whatever my parents offered, falling asleep, delightfully tired all the way down to my toes. Tonight finds me by my father’s bedside, the light low, a window open to the cool November breeze. His eyes are as warm as I remember, yet the color of life has faded from him, more today then ever. He see’s in my face a sadness. “The Bells my son”. “Father”? I look to him from my chair, holding his hand, cool skin. I look down at brown splotches and not much more. With a quiet, unhurried voice he asks. “Do you hear them? Listen, they will sound, tonight I think”. I know the tale, told each year around this time, and often around the campfire. The bells of Otter Bay. A call, a guide if you believe it, for those leaving this life for the next. This had been my father’s, father’s story, passed down again and again.
I try to smile, a slight shake of my head. “Not tonight Father.” His eyes close in respite, and again that slow purposeful voice. “Let me know when you hear them. Yes, tonight, don’t keep it from me, let me know.” I need not answer, he has drifted off, as he does frequently now. But I wonder, as the days shorten and the nights get colder, about the tome he obviously waits for. This child’s story keeps him from peace I think, and I wonder how long the man can endure. An hour, maybe two, and I’m roused from slumber by something, maybe a memory of this place, now fading. Standing, stretching, I look to see my father there in his bed, chest gently rising up and down, a peaceful face hiding all the suffering he has had to endure these last few months. I move to the window and drink in the night air. Oh, it is quiet here, unique and untouched by the world, even tonight hidden by a dark moonless sky. I wonder what awoke me? I listen to the southeast wind, and out beyond the house comes the chirping of otters down by the docks, and here and there the grunts of cormorants complaining about their neighbors. But on my next breath, the world quiets. There against the distant hill comes the sound of a bell, clear, without echo. Again and again. An unworldly sound too perfect for this night or any other. Again and again. The air is so cold. It rings closer now, up the bay towards the eastern hill. Again and again. Again and again. The bells of Otter Bay! With moist eyes and a grim smile I turn and sit at my father’s side. Holding his hand, I need to tell him, tell him I’ve heard the bells, and he can now rest. But his face is calm, eyes closed. This night’s sleep holds him forever, he carries whatever dreams as they may be off into the night. Weeping as a man, quiet in my grief, I hear the bells once more. Again and again. Again and again. I look to the window, understanding at last. The bells of Otter Bay toll when another Island man is coming home. Reason: $Money$ For us, saving money was not a major reason for moving aboard a boat, but it certainly didn’t hurt. These savings are partly due to the nature of boat life and are, in reality, the result of concessions to lifestyle you deal with every day. For example, moored in your cosy yacht in a swank marina at Seattle’s waterfront, you’d find the cost of living would still be very reasonable. Even with a larger boat though, your living space is very small compared to a small house, and your car, if you still own one, can be long walk away. There are a couple of things about boat economics we have discovered over the last couple years.
First, we have found it easier to manage our expenses while living on a boat then living in a house, and that simple fact has saved us money. Second, our boat has provided us ample chances to live modestly while we still enjoying a high standard of living. We don’t have to spend a lot of money to have a great life. This a a short post because I’ve purposely avoided any type of cost analysis that would take up your day to read. I would like to write it though, sometime soon, because such a discussion is important, and I feel Sarah and I have unique opinions on the subject. Those gritty details will have to wait for another day, because my next post will be dedicated to adventure! This was one of the major (and most successful) reasons Sarah and I decided to move onto a boat. Have you ever heard of Maslow's hierarchy of needs? Here is a refresher. Basically, you start at the bottom, generally satisfying those needs first, and then work your way up. This introduces maybe the most important reason we moved onto a boat. Reason: Self-Actualization I read that as giving yourself enough time to figure out who you are, fix anything that is holding you back, and therefore expand your happiness and creativity. For us that means Creative Focus, having the time to explore your creativity. Sarah and I take this to heart, her as a painter and I as a writer. We have changed our life style and reduced the clutter that occupied so much of our time. Being on this or that committee can be an important and noble activity, and at one it was for us. But now we have chosen a different path, individually and as a couple, and it is wonderful.
Our basic needs are met, we are warm and well fed. We are safe and secure with a community of boaters to keep us busy (if we choose), and lifelong friends we care very much for. Getting to this point, and keeping a hold of it, has provided a tremendous sense of accomplishment and empowers us to go further. We now can focus on love and art and life like we never thought possible because we have the time do do so. Is a boat necessary in this processes? No. Moving onto a boat provided us a path to get to where we are today, but I can imagine many other ways it could happen. To be honest, moving into such a small space that floats on the water might be the most drastic and disruptive path, but it may also be the easiest to stay on. We are at home now, Sarah and I, in love with each other and our choice to live this life. The boat softly moves, making the safe sounds we’ve come to know over the years. There are art supplies on one couch and a laptop charging on the other. Later tonight we’ll take a cocktail or two outside to watch the sunset on this cold and clear December day. We have time now, and this is all we could have dreamed for. Reason: Small space mentality. Excess stuff. One reason we moved onto a boat was we were feeling the crush of owning too much stuff. The boat gave us the perfect opportunity to shed the excess things that weren’t useful or added little meaning to our lives. You collect things, we all do, and eventually it becomes a problem and the only thing you can think of is finding some other place to keep it all. So you rent a storage unit. Most of those boxes hold little of personal value, yet haunt us each month with a rental fee. How about just getting rid of it? After all, we are talking about cultivating a small space mentality. The old saying about death is ‘You can’t take it with you’. Well, on a boat, you can, just not very much. Many boaters consider this the hardest thing they had to do, but Sarah and I found it much easier then expected. Several things helped us to accomplish this seemingly impossible task. First, we were ready. Eyes wide open, both feet in, we were going to do it and there was no middle ground. We wanted this now, and that attitude helped us see stuff for what it was, just stuff. We had to set thresholds, boundaries really, so things could get sorted quickly and simply. The question really came down to why do we have this thing? Does it have value so can’t be thrown away? Are we emotionally attached to it? It may have a use but a use on the boat? Is it irreplaceable? We came up with a simple plan, fun and rewarding, yet as stress free as possible. We were going to give almost everything away, in a short amount of time, with as little as work and pain as possible. So we scheduled a give-away party for our friends. They came into the house and took what they wanted. This wasn’t a garage sale, we just gave it all away.
In the end we had just a few boxes of irreplaceable, emotional things that we needed to keep. Family pictures, records, surprisingly little really. Our friends were grateful for the art, tools, sewing machines, kitchen supplies, and many many nicknacks. The rest, everything but several boxes, went into the boat. Year after year our small space keeps us on our toes, and we love the freedom that gives us. We stay watchful for the never used tool or seldom worn clothes and rejoice when we find something truly fun and useful to replace them with. Downsize. Give yourself the opportunity to enjoy what’s important in life. There are few tangible, hold-in-your-hand things that will bring you happiness, so try and not save up a storage unit full of them. |
OdysseyLive as if you were to die tomorrow.
Learn as if you were to live forever. -Mahatma Ghandi- Archives
October 2021
|