We have not gotten lost in Bermuda triangle.
We have not made a run for the south Pacific.
We are currently in the USVIs
Achievements in the past 2 months:
We made it as far south as Bequia.
I have made more than one loaf of bread / focaccia.
We did not kill one another although we probably came close a few times
It is never one single thing that brings frustration but the piling on of many small things so, I don’t always see it coming. It wasn’t until February that I realized that I need to get more morning exercise. I want to move more off the boat. I can and should allow myself to sleep more in the day if we had a rough anchorage the night before. Focus on things that I could control.
In December, I was feeling proud of my ability to “use the car” a.k.a the family dinghy, in Antigua. In Falmouth harbor, there was little fetch (waves) and the dinghy dock was never too busy during the day. I could go for a walk or do some food shopping. Nothing glamorous, but the ability to stretch my legs. It’s that compulsive need that I have after 2+ hours in a meeting or on a long flight or car ride. Despite this urge, I was not brave enough to dinghy solo into the tight marinas i.e. Pigeon Island/Bouillante, Guadeloupe. I believed that maneuvering around the rocks and small fishing boats with their engine blades faced up out of the water would be too challenging. (I have experienced a dinghy pontoon puncture many years ago.)
As we headed south, the dinghy docks of Martinique were sometimes high cement piers that required throwing out a stern anchor to prevent the dinghy engine from getting trapped under the dock and smashed repeatedly. Locking the dinghy to the dock also became essential, due to local thefts, adding to my complexities of finding a spot along a pier. These towns were incredibly cute. I wanted to explore in the morning at 8 or 9 AM, but often Scott or Jenna would not finish their work/school tasks until hours later. High winds are also still intimidating for me because our tiller steering is often difficult to change quickly or, without accidently going faster . (Yes. I always use a motor “kill switch” on my wrist. I accidentally tossed myself into the dinghy once, speeding up and turning too fast. Hopefully no one was watching.)
I had some independent adventure successes. I went into Deshaies, Guadeloupe, to grab our customs stamp and stop at the patiserrie for Scott’s favorite pain de raisin breakfast and a fresh baguette for lunch. Weeks later, I made a trip to Le Marin on my own one morning from St Anne Harbor. The same week, I met up with a group of “Sea Sisters” at a restaurant in St Anne for some coffee thanks to the encouragement of a fellow Salty Dawg, so it wasn’t every day that I felt sedentary but yes, without morning exercise, I would become “fidgety” which leads to cranky. Similar to Jenna being hungry and then angry …. “Hangry.”
In early January, I also came to the realization that I did not like “micromanaging” Jenna. I began to get frustrated that I had to remind her of the same basic activities. Day after day after day. I know that executive functioning is a challenge for a child with ADHD and the need to do daily mundane tasks i.e. apply sunscreen before 11 AM, brush teeth etc. elude her. I even tried check lists to remind her independently, to no avail. I then swore to myself that I would simply stop. This had worked for a short period of time, but I do find myself slipping back into a “nagging” role. Combine this mindset with Jenna’s pining for the absence of her friends, in late December and January and the tone on the boat was both figuratively and literally going south.
We were fortunate enough to meet a group of kid boats in late January who understood that Jenna might want more of a social life away from her parents. The girls from SV The Peach, SV Courage and SV Tropical Dreams quickly bonded and enjoyed watersports, breakfast waffles, making chocolate chip cookies and a trip to the zoo. We enjoyed spending time with their parents discussing travel plans and adventures. I was so grateful for the time that we all got to spend together. Before this, I had been reaching out to other kid boats through various channels but our travel plans were often not aligned or the message would not be viewed until days after we had left an anchorage. It was hard to say goodbye as we wanted to head north to visit with our family on vacation in Saint Martin. We also wanted to provision in Guadeloupe and planned to stop for a couple of days at the island of Monserrat, which houses an active volcano.
Because Jenna was less than enthusiastic about seeing the volcano’s exclusion zone, “Why couldn’t we have stayed longer?” had become Jenna’s new daily question.
Fortunately for us, her new form of lamenting subsided during the visit with her aunt, uncle, cousins and their one year old daughter. We enjoyed watching her walk about. She knows what she wants. Jenna was more taken with her than we expected. We enjoyed several wonderful meals and more than one relaxing night of sleep in very tight protected marina while some of the strongest winds and northern swells passed through.
But after they departed, and we returned to the continuous but less severe easterly swells in Simpson bay SXM for multiple nights even I started mentally questioning. Should we have tried to stay south longer?
Our recent overnight sail from Saint Martin to the BVI reminded us why. While it is possible to sail “nonstop” from Martinique to Saint Martin, we wanted to accomplish that trip in smaller more manageable jumps. We had wanted to sail for 7-8 hours max and then anchor for the night behind each island, taking a break when needed to work or provision.
Our Saint Martin to BVI sail would be our first overnight trip without crew since sailing down the New Jersey Coast in September 2025. We had both slept well before the Jersey coast trip, but the south-easterly swells in outer Simpson bay did not allow a restful night of sleep. We had initially thought we would leave at 2 or 3AM but the forecast predicted stronger winds and building ocean waves. Given that we did not anticipate much sleep prior to our departure, we changed our plans and left Simpson Bay at 6 PM, just before sunset, making it a true overnight voyage. We watched the sky light up from a Florida space X rocket launch and most of the rest of the night was uneventful. For most of the night, we enjoyed a light downwind sail.
Sometime after 4 AM (during Scott’s watch), as HELIA2 began to reach the southern islands on the BVI, a sailboat jibed right in front of us for reasons we can’t explain. They were not broadcasting on AIS at night, which makes it even more challenging to determine what direction their vessel is headed. Collision avoided. We checked into the BVIs in Soper’s Hole at 9 AM. Then, we motored back up to Norman island, and anchored. Here we crashed…physically that is. I set an alarm to wake after 1 hour knowing that longer naps in the afternoon make me crankier instead of refreshed. That afternoon, Scott slept for 2.5 hours, which means he probably only got 2-3 X 60 minute blocks during each of my night watches.
In February and March, I started a more regular exercise routine on board. We incorporated hikes on shore into our plans each week. In the BVIs, Scott and I hiked at Norman island on a wide trail that led to the North side of the island. The next week, we explored Virgin Gorda near the Bitter End Yacht club. The trail was marked, enter at own risk. I was expecting some steep parts so I grabbed my “hiking shoes,” actually my boat shoes. The trail was rather steep. Parts had thick lines of rope to assist in balance. About half way up the mountain side, Scott, likely tired of hearing Jenna’s whining, declares that we can turn back if we want to. Um. No. I have made it this far through a number of small bouldering sections that I guarantee are easier to go up than down. Just keep going. The trail wound around the peak and the views of Saba Rock, Oil Nut Bay and Necker Island were stunning. As I suspected, the back side of the mountain was much less steep. We could see our boat just off Biras Creek. It wasn’t a hike that I would want to immediately do again the next day but I was glad we had done it without turning around.
One of our last hikes in the BVI’s was back at Norman island. The description of the southern trail said moderate hike with some loose rock. I actually grabbed a pair of sneakers this time. Scott and Jenna were in their usual flip flops. Sometimes you climb a mountain to see…. Another mountain. The 3rd round of this, our pace had slowed. I had not thought to grab a pair of socks and could feel a blister forming. Again, Jenna howled, “This is too hard.” Compared the Virgin Gorda walk this was a piece of cake in my opinion. Scott declared, “Fine. We will turn back. You are all miserable.” Really. Did I say I was miserable? “No. I simply need to change my shoes, back to the flip flops in my backpack. Problem solved. Carry on.” I am not miserable. I am just slow. I do not keep a good pace in flip flops and I’m fine with that. Well maybe not, “fine,” sometimes being 100 feet behind my family wondering if I should have brought a pair of headphones to listen to music or an audio book, but I am not stopping. We all move at own pace. We made it to the southern most tip and put a rock on the top of the cairn. From multiple spots along this looped trail, there were gorgeous views of the island, the bay and most all the islands in the BVI.
On our way back to the boat, Jenna kept stopping. She would look at her foot and move a little further. I thought perhaps she was getting a blister. We had been walking/ hiking for almost an hour and there was not much shade on these trails. I offered to switch shoes with her. At first she declined, joking that I just wanted to wear her “shiny flip flops.” Honestly this is the only shoe type that we could share anymore, given that she is now 5 inches taller than I am and at least one shoe size (if not 2) larger. Ten minutes later she stopped again, letting me catch up and agreeing to the switch. I walked for about 3 minutes in her shoes. “Ouch.” What was that? A quick sharp pain, not at the connection point on the flip flop, but just below the ball of my foot back toward the heel. That’s odd. Nothing in the shoe, like a shell or a stone. I turned the flip flop over and saw a few uneven spots in the center. I used my nails to dig out the embedded object which was a half of a centimeter long needle-like thorn that was embedded straight into the bed of the shoe. We each only felt it when stepping down with force. I joked with her about being the mouse from the Aesop’s Fables, The Lion and the Mouse. She had no idea what I was talking about.
We vary each day when we can. Snorkel or hike when the weather cooperates. When things get hard, we keep moving forward even if just a step or a boulder at a time. Pull out the thorn when we can and look for a rainbow or a sunset….. and smile.
