#6: My Hopes and Dreams for Sailing
Why replace tire tracks with sailing tacks? Allow me to explain what seems so enticing about the sailing lifestyle. Have you ever wanted to visit other places without packing up all your necessities in suitcases, standing in serpentine lines at the airport just to run as fast as humanly possible with carry-ons to catch the plane, or stopping on long drives to use public restrooms? I have. (I’m sure you’d agree that running through the airport full-speed ahead while juggling all your luggage is the antithesis of a vacation.) It would also be a bonus if I could sleep in my own bed every night in a quiet cabin, instead of wondering if the hotel we chose is bedbug-free and the boisterous voices and door closings of late-night partiers would be problematic. Welcome to my first thought about sailing: I get to visit all these amazing coastal places around the world, not needing to pack or use public restrooms and still sleep in my own bed?! Yes, please.
Need I convince you further about why I’m on board with moving aboard, or are we good here? Really? I can’t drop the mic yet? Well, if you need more, I have more. For one thing, I’d like to travel to lots of different places before I kick the bucket. My parents took my brother and me on big trips during school breaks, for which I’m so grateful to have broadened my horizons. To be a part of a location’s essence is special, and the memories have been seared into that part of my brain that’s filed “Life Outside the Norm.” Once I’ve lived in a place long enough and done the same routine every day, it becomes the norm. I really like change for the uniqueness that comes along with it. Sure, change has challenges associated with it, but that’s what will keep my brain sharp. At least, that’s what I’ll tell myself when the storms inevitably strike. The more challenges, the sharper I’ll be, right?
Yes, I will likely get seasick in rough seas, but I figure if I can be nauseous all day long for about 4 or 5 months with both pregnancies and still make it through to the other side of the roller coaster, I’ll make it through a few weeks of seasickness here and there, when necessary. Hopefully it will be worth it when we reach wherever we’re going. If not, buckle up—I mean, hoist the anchor—and let’s move on out!
I’m looking forward to swimming around in turquoise water whenever I can, ogling all the turtles in the wild that I’m not supposed to pet. It’d be surpassing expectations if a dolphin gave me a high-five or an octopus played hide and seek with me. I picture myself freediving or snorkeling on a daily basis when our floating home is stationary. It’ll just be too easy to jump into the water for a quick dip. Then, after basking in the serenity of the otherworldliness and producing a good dose of Vitamin D, I’ll relax aboard, drying off outside but in the shade, reading a good book on my Kindle. And then Calvin will serve me one of his famous fruit smoothies and maybe a chocolate-covered peanut butter drop. The family and friends aboard will later join me in the dinghy to go hiking ashore and explore the area’s culture and landscape. Later in the day, I’ll prepare dinner or help fix something that broke, but right now, I’m revisiting the part of the dream with my book and smoothie and cool breeze. Broken things are not a part of my “hopes and dreams,” so they don’t belong here.
I’m also anxious to lessen my carbon footprint by living on the catamaran. We’ll use as much solar and wind/hydroelectric power as we can, but we’ll have a diesel engine or generator as well, in case of cloudy, still days. I am ready to live outside more than inside, having more of a respectful awareness of Mother Nature. I’m game to try different foods, hike through coastal towns, meet all sorts of people (mostly the nice ones), and basically infuse myself with other cultures without having a steadfast, too-soon departure date. I hope that our sons and other family and friends can be with us to partake in our salty lifestyle as much as possible. Tell us where you want to go, and let’s experience it together!
My hopes are heavy, so I’m dropping the mic now. You can pick it up and start doing stand-up about how I still don’t know what I’m getting into. I want to hear it, but I’ll have to catch the rerun when I’m older and maybe have more downtime after having done this whole sailing thing. Of course, I already know you’re right: I don’t know what I’m getting into, but I’m so ready to find out! Get ready to make room, Brain, because “Life Outside the Norm” is about to take over!
