Six Months in a Leaky Boat - Part 3 of 3

Those that wander are not always lost

I know, I know, it has taken me quite a while to write this instalment.  But to describe what the cruising life is really like, and then tell of how we are coping, is actually a difficult task.

When I dreamed of the cruising life, I thought of sunbathing, long walks on white sand beaches, hot cocoa on night watch and gazing at the stars.  And yes, cruising life has been some of that (although the hot cocoa never happened – more likely to cause third degree burns as the boat pitches, or vomiting over the stern), but it has also been a lot more.

Cruising is not like weekend sailing or chartering.  It is a lifestyle choice.   Cruisers are a community united by their dream to leave the hustle and bustle of busy life behind and sail off into the sunset.  Unlike casual sailing, cruising requires socialising.  Like moving to any new community, meeting your neighbours and gathering a group of friends is important. 

As a cruiser, the needs of the boat become your main concern – is there water? fuel? is the engine running efficiently? what is the electricity consumption? generation? Basic household tasks such as provisioning (going to the supermarket) and doing the laundry, will also occupy significant parts of your day.

For us, the cruising life has been two extremes.  First, it involved constantly moving from island to island.  The only constant was change.  We were moving down the chain of islands on the schedule of hurricane season - the need to get out of what the insurance companies call “the Box”.  This moving about was quite exciting in many ways.  There was always something new, each island being very different from the last and the next.  There were different cultures and languages to contend with and scenery to explore, hot pools to sit in and baguettes to devour.   But this also came with strains – never knowing what you would be facing next, were your next laundry or supermarket would be, whether the fuel dock is still in the same location as the cruising guide says, and never being able to quite settle.

Second, the cruising life has involved sitting still to wait out hurricane season. Hurricane season lasts from the start of June to the end of November.  Many cruisers don’t get out of the Box until July or August, but then some others stay out of the Box (usually in Grenada) from early June to December or January.  Cruising life here lives up to the saying about cruising being maintaining your yacht in exotic places (usually fixing/servicing something in the back of a confined space with an inside temperature pushing 40).  But it is also about participating in the numerous cruiser social events.  There are happy hours to attend, bands to watch and domino games to lose (well, in my case anyway).  This side of cruising comes with its own strains too – getting itchy feet from staying in one place too long, the inch of growth on the hull (literally) from staying put for 1 month (and who knew that you could get barnacles on your anchor chain!), and the heat of summer making life uncomfortable and more difficult to get out and about.

I must be honest, I have found cruising a struggle at times.  At first I found the constant change exhausting and the loss of stability unsettling.  Leaving my career, friends and family, and income behind weighs heavy on my mind at times.  While encountering different cultures has been exciting, it is also stressful.  The culture shock sometimes leaves me reeling.  The rules of behaviour and cultural identifiers are different than at home, differ from island to island, and also between us and other cruisers.  We are not used to the culture of haggling or tipping, or having to be so concerned about safety.   We cannot always identify with other cruisers’ fondness for Bubba Gump shrimp, or breakfast biscuits, or them with our fondness for fish and chips, jandals, or snags on the barbie.  Although, these differences often lead to may laughs and good times (we have been invited for breakfast biscuits tomorrow).  But sometimes I also long for something (anything!) to feel familiar, for my own washing machine and dryer, for a supermarket that stocks Watties tomato sauce, Minties and Pineapple Lumps, and for someone to tell me “yeah, nah”.

Cruising life has also been terribly rewarding.  The number one reason being the people we have met.  Everywhere we have been we have met like minded people who have thrown their arms open wide and accepted us into their circle of friends.  The generosity of these people has been astounding, offering us their friendship, knowledge and help (not to mention their food and wine!).  We have met people from such a wide range of backgrounds, from fellow lawyers and engineers to teachers, nurses, bankers, mechanics, doctors, pilots, fireman, entrepreneurs and everything in between, from all four corners of the world and all age groups. 

While we are always busy with social events or working on the boat, the pace of this lifestyle is definitely slower.  I have finally been able to relax and get on to all those books I have been meaning to read – 50 books in 6 months!  Getting away from it all has also enabled me to get a new perspective on life, and on the things that used to worry me in day to day life back home.  There is more time to reflect, but also getting back to basics reminds you what really is important.

So in answer to one friend’s question “are you bored of doing nothing yet?” – No, no, not quite yet!

BBQ at our place

Don't worry, I'm working on part 3, but in the meantime...well...we got hungry.  So we are having a BBQ!

We have been using our charcoal grill (ie the bimini lighter!) to varying success.  Our friend John told us to stack the charcoal in a pyramid to get it nice and hot (yup, he's smart, he worked at NASA) - and we have had great BBQ success since.

So I am writing this blog, to the smokey (but surprisingly pleasant) smell of the BBQ, watching the sun go down and listening to the steel drum band at the Ti Ki Bar ashore - not half bad.

Happy Friday afternoon NZ!

Six Months in a Leaky Boat - Part 2 of 3

We struggled with the decision whether to buy Toodles, a Beneteau Cyclades 50, or a Beneteau 473.  It was a very close call at the time.  On one hand we had the 473, which is a very pretty boat, known for it's blue water prowess and available in the 3 cabin owners version complete with real wood interior and on one of the boats available, teak decks.  On the other hand we had Toodles, a significantly larger boat due to it's high top sides, larger footage and beam, arguably slightly less pleasing to the eye, less documented blue water sailing, but much newer with a proper kitchen, king sized owner's cabin, air conditioning and generator.  Despite Toodles already having crossed one ocean to get to the Caribbean, we felt we needed further reassurance of her capabilities.  We contacted the Cyclades 50's designer who assured us that his boat was designed for, and well up to, the voyage ahead of us (to cross the pacific).

After 6 months living aboard and nearing 1000 miles sailed, we couldn't be happier with Toodles.  We had been told that Toodles had won some cruiser races in the BVI, so we shouldn't have been so surprised with just how fast she sails.  We often average 9knts and the current top speed we have seen is 13knts.   As a purpose built cruising yacht, her weatherly performance exceeds expectations.  She is easily managed by one person, with the help of the autopilot and electric winch.

Our fears of coming along side on such a large boat were unfounded.  We have always managed with just the two of us, with no dramas.   With a couple of well placed fenders, and a trick or two learnt from Al Gwyer, coming along side has been so much easier than we had expected for a 50 footer.

At anchor, there is enough room to swing a Pickle, oops I mean Cat.  Perhaps the space has aided our ability to deal with each other, having more places to run away to and more doors to slam. The huge owner's cabin has just been amazing and made the boat more like a home.  The cockpit is also larger than other boats we looked at, and has been great for entertaining and sunbathing alike.  While we haven't needed all 5 toilets, it is great to have another head to run to when the holding tank fills up.

Mechanically, she has caused us very little problem.  While we have done quite a bit of work on her, it has been all maintenance or putting on new toys.

The negatives?  Well the forward crew cabin is unnecessary (I still haven't actually ventured down the hatch!).  It's good for storage of fenders, sails and the odd extra suitcase - but that's about it.  But then, with only two people aboard, we haven't exactly been short on space!

Being an ex charter boat, she did come fairly bare.  While she came with plates, cutlery, pots, pans and 10 snorkels and masks, the entire toolkit consisted only of two screwdrivers.  Electronically, she was also very basic, and we had to spend quite a bit on toys to get her up to spec for our voyage.  I saw this as not entirely negative.  We were able to fit her with just the things we needed, all up to date, rather than having to put up with whatever the boat came with, which was often a lot of unnecessary or out of date electronics.

There has been a bit of bad press about European production boats lately, regarding the use of brass through hull fittings that can corrode quickly under certain circumstances.  Fortunately, Beneteau addressed this from 2007 onwards (ie including Toodles), fitting bronze through hull fittings instead.

Six months on, we are more happy with the boat than expected.  She is continually able to give us pleasant surprises with her performance, or an extra spot or gadget we hadn't found before.  We are looking forward to some proper blue water sailing to stretch her legs.

Six Months in a Leaky Boat - Part 1 of 3

He may be the Captain but he ain't the boss


So we have officially made it six months on the boat.  For those non NZ/Aussies, the boat is not actually leaky, this is merely a reference to an awesome Slit Ends song.


This post is one of a three part series that will summarise our reflections about our experience so far.  The three topics will be - how we are managing with each other, the boat, and the lifestyle.


This post is about how we are managing with each other, hence the apt heading "He may be the Captain be he ain't the boss"


Maintaining a relationship is hard enough in and of itself.  But try adding being with eachother 24/7 in a confined space, where one partner is given the title of "Captain" and therefore can tell you what to do. Maintaining a relationship under these circumstances is a miracle (especially when the wife is loud-mouthed feminist and lawyer, and the husband likes to throw the terms "Anchor Wench", "Galley Slave" and "Boat B*tch").


So do we fight?  Of course we fight!  We wouldn't be married if we didn't.  But disagreements must be quickly addressed, fought about, and then we move on.  It's a great lesson that we have learnt so far.


So is Gary really Captain?  Well, yes he is, for the "important" decisions like, "we should tack now" or "let's pull out the headsail".  But all other decisions such as "what anchorage are we staying at?", "what are we doing today?", "can I buy this?" and "can I have an icecream?" are made by yours truly.  Despite being Captain, Gary is still reprimanded for failing to put his snorkeling gear away, not cleaning up after meals, or failing to attend to all strange noises between 6pm and 6am.


How are Gary's Captain skills?  Well, they are improving.  I have been trying to train him not to be the "pitball" he is used to being on Wednesday night races, that goes for the throat of anyone not doing something fast enough.  I am encouraging him to be more like the owner of the boat he used to race on in NZ, who would be cool, calm and collected no matter what the pressure and less like a racer generally - nothing really has to be done that quick in most circumstances!  I have tried to counsel him through some questionable mental states when he gets over excited thinking he is in the midst of a do or die race whenever he sees an Aussie boat (although disappointingly, the Aussie boat's captain came to congratulate us for our "win").  I used to joke to Gary about all the other Gary's he was inviting along when we go sailing.  Shouty Gary hasn't made an appearance in some time, phew!


Gary is learning to cope with me 24/7.  He has learnt that he must ensure I am fed, watered and given sufficient shut eye each night or else all hell breaks loose.  The cat seems to be an exaggerated version of me, and Gary has been learning a lot of good lessons through his interactions with the cat such as she will scratch or bite if you don't give her space, or try to pat her incorrectly, or sometimes just because she is in a grumpy mood.


I think we have learnt more about each other in the last 6 months than most people learn about their spouses in 6 years.  We are still married after 6 months on the boat (although only 3 months of marriage) what a feat!

My Hero

My Dad has always been my hero.  At the age of 6, my sister Emma and I stumbled upon two seagulls wrapped in fishing line on a remote beach in the Hauraki Gulf.  One bird had unfortunately died from the encounter, and the other still clung to life unable to move from the tightly wound line and a fishing hook through its beak.  In tears, my sister and I led Dad to the poor bird and watched him slowly and carefully free it.  As we watched the seagull sitting on a rock recovering, and eventually fly away, Dad became a hero to both my sister and I. 

While my Dad will always be my hero, Gary’s actions today got him pretty close to hero status.

After breakfasting at “de Big Fish” and watching the F1 Grand Prix, we began the trek over the hill to Secret Harbour Marina for the cruisers jumble sale.  We took a wrong turn and turned the 20 minute walk into 40.  The hot 11am sun beat down on us unrelenting, reflecting off the black tar seal road with no mercy.  Sweat beading off our foreheads and running down our cheeks like tears, we made it to Secret Harbour.  We begin to recover after a cool drink and look around the jumble sale, then began our journey back.  I had only made it two steps onto the road when my jandal broke.  Not just the “poke it back through the hole” broke, but the completely unrepairable broke.  In horror, I stared down at my feet, my eyes widening as I see the blurring heat wave rising off the road and I realise the consequences for my poor foot.  My eyes dart to either side of the road looking for a grass curb, but none appeared. 

Without hesitation, my husband and hero takes off his left jandal and hands it to me.  “But you can’t!” I protest, as if he had given me the last grain of food on a life boat, knowing that this unselfish move will mean certain pain and possibly third degree burns.  He ignores my protest and gasping, striding off down the road into the heat blurred distance.  With a new respect, I put on his jandal and hurry after him.  For 20 minutes I am in awed silence as we walk back.  When we arrive at the dinghy dock, Gary calmly puts his unshod foot into the water. The hiss and sizzle of his hot foot into the cool water is almost audible, but the relief obvious.

Lets just say, Gary will be waited on hand and foot tonight!

Its a Pickle!

Our new crew member is a cat called Pickle (not a Parrot, sorry Uncle Brian).

We are looking after Pickle for another cruiser until October.  


Pickle is still settling in.  After three nights, she is finally letting us sleep through the night!  After hiding all day she liked to seek attention at 3am.  She is now out and about during the day, and entertains herself at night - we are very pleased. 

Arrived in Grenada

We have finally arrived in Grenada, our hurricane season destination.  While we may pop down to Trinidad for a month or so to get some new canvas for the bimini and mounts for the solar panels, we are pretty much here until November.

The main bay for cruisers is Prickly Bay, a long sheltered anchorage overlooked by mansions.  There is a small beach close to where we are anchored that we swim to each morning for a bit of exercise.

There are also a number of other anchorages here on Grenada that look beautiful and a little more secluded.  Gary particularly wants to visit Gary Island, for obvious reasons.

While sitting in the same few anchorages for 5 months may sound tedious to some, it doesn't look that way at all.  Firstly, Grenada is beautiful and feels really safe.  I can see us going on lots of trips out and about the island (crossing fingers one of those trips is to the Chocolate Factory!).  Secondly, The cruiser community here is vibrant.  At 8am there is the Cruisers Net over the radio, where announcements are made of arriving and departing boats, social events, and the "treasures of the bilge" trade/exchange section.  There are joint trips to town, quiz nights, domino nights, cooking lessons as well countless impromptu cocktail nights.  Thirdly, we have our new crew member to keep us entertained - but she will feature on the next blog!

We made our first trip into town to the supermarket and I am overjoyed at the range.  It feels so good to know there is a proper supermarket close by that I can actually come back to, so there is no need to go crazy and buy up large on each trip.

The buses (which could better be described as vans) are great here.  One arrives at least every two minutes along the main road and $2.50EC ($1.25NZ) to go just about anywhere.

We look forward to sampling the local cuisine at the countless bars and restaurants close by.

All in all, we are pretty excited to explore our new home and settle into the cruisers hurricane season lifestyle.

New Crew Member

We are heading down the last few islands at a bit of a pace.  We need to pick up a new crew member from Grenada, who will spend the next few months with us over hurricane season.  


I am eagerly awaiting her arrival and very excited to get her on board.  


I only hope that Gary will be able to cope with the attention of two girls in the confined space of a boat.    Somehow I think he is going to be just fine.

Paradise Found

This morning we truly woke up in paradise.  It's called Saltwhistle Bay on Mayreau in the Grenadines.  The water is crystal clear in what can only be described as "travel brochure" blue/green.  We are anchored in only 9 feet of water, close to the perfect horseshoe white sand beach complete with palm trees.


We wake early, and the first thing I do is slip into the water and swim to shore.  I take my time, breathing in the sweet tropical air, relishing in the warm water gliding over my skin, the morning sun on my face and listening to the sound of the sea gently lapping at the beach...Paradise.

Note:  We reserve the right to name any (and/or many) other place(s) "Paradise" notwithstanding the above post.