Food and Nourishment

As we prepared to leave Totem, snug in a berth in San Carlos, and return to the states for the summer- a concerted effort was made to work through our food stores. Thus it was, scrounging in the depths of a locker not long ago, that I discovered a jar of Julie and Gloria’s homemade jam. A hidden gem, so unexpected - I thought these had been used up months ago. But there, winking up from the depths of a food storage locker, was the unmistakable quilted glass canning jar with “2008 – Raspberry”, labeled in Julie’s hand.

I can’t deny getting a little misty. Granted, I tend to obsess over food, so this discovery may have moved me more than the average person, but this little jar was a link to people I love and places I hold dear. It brought back a flood of memories, from blackberry picking on Eliza island with my cousins Claire and Bryn, to cooking cherries, blackberries and blueberries down to jam with my Heidi in Bellingham, to receiving the gift of this particular jar (and several of its brethren) last fall. It is pure goodness: raspberries, cooked down and sealed to store for months until it can be opened for a delicious off-season treat… or in our case, a treat impossible to reproduce or recreate in our tropical environment. It was rays of sun in a Ball jar.

Foraging in Baja bears no resemblance to the foraging I loved doing in the Northwest. I am tempted to try and recreate a few things from home, though. Perhaps I’ll try making prickly pear jam once we can collect the fruit. It will be fun, and possibly delicious, but it can’t evoke the feelings of the blackberry. One thing I know for sure, the canning cobwebs need to be dusted off before we cross to the south pacific next year: what we’ve heard about the prices of food! Hopefully I can expand my repertoire to canning meats, too.

Food preservation has been useful in Mexico for the shorter term, too. In April, at a La Paz grocery store we saw basil for the first time in months. I couldn’t let that by, and purchased everything I found (about five generous bunches). It was chopped, covered in olive oil, and kept in the refrigerator- and Voila! Two months of pasta and pesto, basil – bean salads, and other treats.


For the next two months, the crew of Totem is spending time in the US. We’re visiting friends and family, although we’ll miss out on our land based home in the Northwest. There are only so many miles of country you can traverse in a rental car… especially a Mercury Grand Marquis with 3 children in the back (let’s just say that our family is not the target market for this vehicle). I will be looking for sour cherries that need canning, directions to MI sources gratefully accepted.

Friendships while cruising

There is something of a roller coaster ride in our friendships. The bottom line is all good: we are fortunate to have wonderful people in our lives. There are highs when we meet new cruising friends, lows when we miss people from home, highs when friends from home visit or we reconnect with a boat we've met previously, lows when we have to part ways with cruising friends when our paths diverge. Up, down, up, down, rinse, repeat!

On the other hand, it is amazing to think how the circle of neat people we know has grown this year. From supportive family at the Village Marina in Alameda, where we happily lingered beyond our expectations, to the people who have continued to touch us as we've made our way on this journey.

By necessity, friendships out cruising are typically made quickly. If we're sharing an anchorage with another boat, we usually meet them- by swimming over or taking the dinghy across to introduce ourselves, if they don't do it first. There's something a little like speed dating that occurs: you fly quickly through the get-to-know-yous, and establish common ground. We share information about the weather forecast, the protection of nearby anchorages, what day of the week vegetable truck arrives, and the quality of the fishing. When you really hit it off, or have some particular interests in common (we are *always* looking for other children!), one meeting often spins into spending a few fun days or weeks together, sharing anchorages and exploring reefs or enjoying what the nearest shoreline has to offer. Eventually, we part ways as our paces, directions or priorities diverge. Friends we made in Mexico this winter now range from California to Central America to French Polynesia.

This past week, we had to say goodbye again. Eyoni isn't headed north as fast as we are, and we're headed to the mainland more slowly than Wildflower. Both these boats have kept us company as we headed north into the Sea, and it's hard not to feel disheartened to such great families and fun people. We've shared great meals, many laughs, and thoroughly enjoyed their company. We may see them again soon, but it could be months or longer, and we just don't know.

When I'm feeling low in the wake of a departure, I think about Annie, one of the first friends I made after we started cruising. We were greeted by her 5 year old, Bear, calling down from the pier as we entered the public wharf in Monterey. Since that first whirlwind day together (hours at the aquarium, lunch, playdate for the big and little people) our families have continued to find each other again and again as thousands of miles have passed under our keels. We've created great memories, from Monterey, California to Barra de Navidad, Mexico. In the wisdom from her years cruising, she gently helped prep me for the roller coaster, although I may not have appreciated it at the time. It still stinks to say goodbye, but having been able to also say "hello!" again to this family a handful of times already- it always feels possible, even likely, we'll be able to see our friends again.

So, we've been here before. We waved several friends off the dock as they departed for the south pacific this winter, and at some level, we're getting kind of used to it. At times I worry that at some point the children will be a negatively affected- that they will miss the depth in relationships that only comes from time, or will learn to say goodbye too easily. But that's just the worried voice most parents have in their ear for the welfare of their children. What has been difficult on some levels has also done great things for their social skills, their ability to talk to kids of all ages.

I'm looking forward to tracking down those boats we watched sail off to the west this winter, too.

Kids aboard: what do they do all day?

After 6 months of writing a cruising column for 48 North, we're finally touching on the subject of kids aboard for the upcoming June issue. Our article is more generally about the choice to cruise as a family, but it has prompted reflections on the questions people might have about what it's like for the children. The simplest question of "what do they do all day" is so genuinely hard to answer, and could be uniquely updated 365 times a year. I'm going to try and illustrate it with a few pictures.

We spend a lot of time looking at their butts, poking in the air while their noses are trained toward the water. They spend a lot of time looking at sea life. Niall knows the name of every fish we see, and if he doesn't, he finds out what it is...ask and he'll tell you he wants to be an icthyologist.

They make friends on other boats- those are the s/v Kenta Anae boys above with the girls. Below is a big game of "Sorry!" with the group from s/v StowAway.

We are outside all the time. Here Niall and Mairen are on the beach on El Mogote in La Paz; we have been there almost every day in La Paz, watching swimming crabs, finding stingray barbs and whale bones, discovering what Niall called the Shell Graveyard, and of course, digging monster holes in the sand.

They are avid explorers of their environment...here Niall and Mairen are watching a fluffy blue footed booby chick (and parents) on an island so packed with fearless critters, it felt like a warm-up for the Galapagos.

They create stories and drama, whether with their animals, in a Lego diorama, or with this puppet theater kit. Siobhan and Mairen are recreating a Harry Potter sequence with puppets from a Christmas nativity story. Hm. Think I just found myself a knitting project- more puppets!

One of Niall's projects is behind the girls on the settee- not the lego pile, but the white "Power House." He's rigged the model house with small, functional solar panels; he's dried tomatoes in a little greenhouse (they dressed up sandwiches nicely!).
There's no question that with their very fair hair and skin, they stand out- this has opened some fun interactions up for them. I took this from across the town plaza in San Blas one evening, where they were surrounded and engaged in conversation- I'll guess in some English but also some Spanish. They are picking up more words all the time.

And of course, they have quieter downtime, too. Here's Niall in the aft cabin one afternoon last month, where we have a full Encyclopedia set. He's reading "F" to Siobhan.


We're getting ready to spend a few months drifting north, enjoying some time in the Sea of Cortez before our July road trip in the US.

Scenes from San Blas

We arrived in San Blas on April 4th- just for a few days, you know. Well, it looks like "a few days" means "about two weeks" when interpreted through our low-key, low-risk approach to cruising!

At one point we did actually decide the tides and weather looked right for a dash to Isabel Island. However, our weather analysis did not look locally enough, as it turns out. It went something like this:

We pulled out and headed up the estuary...
...we saw the 8' breaking waves clear across the mouth of the estuary...
...we made a U-turn.

Meanwhile, we can see how a fellow cruising family also arrived here "for a few days" late last year, and ended up staying for months. It's a nice town: small enough to be easy to get around, but large enough to readily meet needs for the life essentials- chief among them, fresh tortillas and ice cream. It's also pretty much devoid of gringo tourism, so we're progressing with our Spanish again.

Our first week here coincided with Semana Santa, the holy week leading up to Easter. Thousands of Mexican families descend upon San Blas for vacation. We sat at lunch one day and watched truck after truck roll by, the beds filled with extended families and everything they would need for days (beach umbrellas. lawn furniture. coolers. children).

Most evenings, we'd walk up to the zocalo- the town square (alternate sides having city hall, the church, the public market, etc.). It would start off quietly, with a few dozen people milling about... by nightfall, you couldn't find a seat. Musicians began to play banda music, in 10-20 person bands dominated by brass. By 10pm, we were petering out but the fiesta was just getting underway- and we could no longer hear each other if we yelled at close range. These parties lasted until the wee hours of the morning. Jamie heard music from the boat at 5am!

We played tourist, visiting 18th century ruins outside of town- a Spanish customs office, and the church from Longfellow's "The Bells of San Blas" (which he never visited, apparently).


Our big spender day was going on "The Jungle Tour", hiring a panga with driver/guide to take us up the estuary and a freshwater inlet filled with spectacular birds and more than a few crocodiles- Niall's got a great blog post with more pictures about this. Our well-informed guide made the trip: we saw dozens of birds with his help. I am impressed by this guy who knew the species and names in Spanish and English, recognized adults and juveniles, imitated calls and identified different kinds of nests- Joel was fantastic.


I polled the children for their favorite things about San Blas.
Niall: the ice cream in the zocalo, Norm & Jan (wonderful couple from NY/NJ who have lived here since the late 60s), the sandwich shop (great big shredded pork tortas- mmmm). the pool in the marina. all the birds- herons, ibis', all that.
Siobhan: the jungle tour and crocodiles! and the birds, and the three little houses (stilt houses built for a movie set, partway into the estuary tour). and cotton candy (this unbelievably nasty pink fluff that dyed their pee for 2 days- let me tell you, that is a color which strikes fear in a mom's heart at first glance)
Mairen: the fort! the church, the view, the horse! (there is always a horse tied to Mairen's favorites: we saw one in a field below the fort) the dogs (two little puppies at a store nearby). and Norm & Jan's dog Brandon.

Jamie and I have really loved hanging in the zocalo with Norm & Jan in the evenings, hearing their stories about life in San Blas and learning about this marvelous place.

I'll never forget an early morning walk out to the end of the jetty- climbing to the top of the light and meeting a Huichol man, Lorian, who patiently tried to explain to me the importance of a nearby island in our view. The best I could understand was it was a sacred place, a place connected to the Sun god (the principal deity of several in the Huichol's beliefs), the source of the waters (oceans?)- then it all fell apart. Something about the moon, something about the entire world together... oh, I wish I could have understood better! I have resolved to work harder on my Spanish.


We're moving slowly as usual... follow us on SPOT.

Racing again!

Scenes from the Regatta
Originally uploaded by behang

Jamie has a long history of racing sailboats- and it factors big in our personal history (we met racing on a J-35, 20+ years ago). So it was with great delight that we accepted the request of our friends on s/v Kenta Anae to crew with them for the Banderas Bay Regatta.

On Kenta Anae, we liked to think of ourselves as the counterculture entry. A 25-year-old cruising sailboat, put in the same class as the flashy new (and racy) boats. Our competitors in the regatta were not sailing their homes. No, these were people who wore matching shirts. People who had enough crew to line the windward rail in their color-coordinated glory.

The five of us- Jamie and I, Allison & Merle of Kenta Anae, and Jan Meermans (borrowed from Capriccio), sailed together for the first time on race day one. We sailed better as a team each successive day. A turning point for our performance, though, came when we nailed the start on day 2. Oh, the exhilaration! Latitude 38 seemed to like it as well, and put the picture of us leading the class after the start (while we could- let’s face it, there were bigger and faster boats in the fleet) in their electronic newsletter. That felt pretty darn good.

Jamie and Merle only sacrificed their bodies a few times. Allison helmed her home with nerves of steel and utter grace. Jan worked the main like nobody has worked it before. I made killer sandwiches.

The children all joined us on Day 3. Somewhat predictably, ours decided it was more fun to hang out down below- where they could slide from the high side of the cabin to the low slide, on lifejacket skids- than to be on deck. There are rumors they did manage to moon a competitor before going below.

We retired with a well-earned 4th in our class to happy celebrations of sushi and music, rejuvenated from the action and intensity. I predict Jamie mooning further over the state of our blown out main and dreaming about entering Totem in future races.

Reflections at the half-year mark

Six months ago today, we left our home on Bainbridge Island and embarked on an open ended journey as a family. Our long held plans to go cruising, finally realized! Our excitement at finally reaching the departure milestone to depart is hard to describe- truly, it was a dream come true. As we were escorted from Eagle Harbor by our friends on their sailboat, the swirl of emotions left us giddy. There was sadness in parting from dear friends and a wonderful community, and anticipation for what the journey ahead would hold. The rush of final activity to meet our exit date was nothing short overwhelming.

We have settled in a great deal since last summer; on August 21, when we motored down an uncharacteristically flat Strait of Juan de Fuca, we had been living aboard for nearly three months. That was long enough to work out the kinks of living aboard, but a far cry from being adept at it. But we have found a rhythm- highly unstructured as it is- to living in Mexico.

The children are thriving: this is by far our most important measure. They are sponges for absorbing everything from the physical and cultural differences in Mexico, to the minutiae of sea life around them. Jamie and I genuinely enjoy the very different pattern of life. Most days involve tackling one boat project or another, playing out the cruising adage that it really is about “routine maintenance in exotic locations.” We have been fortunate to have very few significant problems with the boat, and none that we cannot readily address.

What are the biggest changes?

In terms of a routine, nearly everything takes longer. Doing laundry (which involves a 5-gallong bucket and a plunger), getting groceries (no more minivan with the big storage: now it’s carted by hand and ferried by dinghy), or tracking down an item can easily morph into a full-day activity. But time is what we have, and the absence of time pressure is truly marvelous.

One change we don’t notice is the radical reduction in things we own. We’re certainly living with less, but don’t really think about it much. If we do, it’s usually to lament that we still have too much on board- things get in the way, there’s more than we need. We did wonder how the children would handle this, as their toys were given away or sold off in that last massive garage sale. I believe that having less has brought out new ingenuity in their imaginary play with each other. They have developed incredible concentration, spending hours on a single activity. There is no need to “entertain” them, directly or through screen proxies. On the other hand, we have the chance to spend so much more time doing things together, from exploring a village or beach, to playing cards or doing puzzles and art projects.

Outside of food, we continue to take more things off the boat than we bring on- bit by bit. But oddly enough it’s often harder to “re-home” things that still have utility: there’s no freecycle or Goodwill. But it’s great to give things away when we have the opportunity: clothes the kids don’t need to a family in the middle of nowhere, Baja; toys that don’t really get used went to an orphanage in Mazatlan.

A friend on Bainbridge asked if we needed anything. If we really do, odds are we can find it here (although I’m still looking for seeds I can sprout!). Sometimes it can be hard to find, or we have to pay more, so we make different choices about what’s necessary. Some things are more important- like getting the right fuel assembly for our dinghy outboard- and we pay the premium, investing the time to track it down. Oh, and Jamie loves that splash of Hershey’s in his morning coffee. Others things we used to “need”, like a favorite breakfast cereal, we simply do without. The need is left behind and we move on to enjoy something more readily available locally.

What has been difficult?

I miss our family friends from home. I really miss my runs with Tracey, catching up on everything in life; having afternoon tea with Joan, sharing our hopes and dreams; going out on Sushi Tuesday with “the ladies” at Razorfish. On the other hand, we do meet a lot of people out here, as the cruising community is active and tight. If two boats share an anchorage, you can bet one will dinghy over to meet the other, and there are good odds of shared sundowners later. In most areas, there are daily morning radio “nets” (open conversations where boats check-in, meet newcomers, help solve whatever needs arise for boats in a vicinity- from finding a dentist to a dive service) every day open the opportunity to connect with others sharing this experience. But the nature of our itinerant life means we’re saying goodbye a lot also. I’ve made friends for life that I might not see again for years, if ever.

Ironically perhaps (isn’t this supposed to be like some grand vacation?!), I miss my job. I thoroughly enjoyed it, from helping clients with marketing challenges, working on professional development with members on my team. The daily rewards of cruising are ample, but different, and recognized differently.

Sure, I have other anxieties, and am working to make peace with them. I worry about money (how long can we stay out? How cheaply can we live?), about the children’s education (sure they are thriving, but what are we missing?), about safety (everything from making smart weather choices for our passages to knowing when the swell is too much for dinghy landing, and generally being aware of what’s around us). I wonder what crazy thing someone with little real understanding of us will say to worry my parents.

What’s next?

The rough itinerary we posted last fall has held, generally speaking. Like all cruising plans, ours are set in sand, but these broad strokes should hold. We’ll head up into the Sea of Cortez for the summer, to enjoy the teeming wildlife in this stunning landscape while escaping the threat of hurricanes further south. Next fall, we eagerly await the arrival of our friends on s/v Capaz to continue south and eventually across the Pacific with the Baker family. Things get fuzzy rapidly: we hope to go to the Galapagos, if fees and Ecuadorean bureaucracy aren’t out of control. We may spend one season in the South Pacific, or duck up for hurricane season to the Marshalls to return for a second. I have no idea what will happen, but it’s going to be fun finding out.

We welcome visitors, we welcome questions, and if you care to hand-deliver a quart of Hershey’s chocolate syrup- at least one member of our crew will be in your debt!

An interview with Niall

Where are you?
Marina Riviera Nayarit, La Cruz, Banderas Bay, Mexico.

How do you like Banderas Bay?
Really cool. Seeing a Spanish lady, a kind of seahorse, and a thorny seahorse in Punta de Mita. The alligators (12’) roaming free in the jungle tour in paradise village.

Do you want to be in Banderas Bay for a while?
Yes, I want to go snorkeling in Punta de Mita again.

Do you have friends here?
Yes: Kyle (Double Play), Robin (Hipnautical), Timothy & Finn on Whisper.

How’s the big trip so far?
It’s good. It’s excellent. I like it.

Are you learning some Spanish?
Si!



What are you hoping to do in Mexico?
Snorkel in a big coral reef, like you see in a magazine.

What’s La Cruz like?
It’s a nice little marina. The town is dirt roads and older houses and very nice. We met people at the bakery where we go almost every day. They are nice, they have a little bakery by the road, they cook the best chocolate doughnuts in the world. They have a two year old boy who is always happy and loves seeing us, when we have to go he says adios (goodbye my friends in Spanish) for about 40 minutes. We stay and reply to him because he is so cute.

You saw fishermen recently.
We were there for the blessing of the fleet. It’s a holiday for the patron saint in Bucerias. At the blessing of the fleet in La Cruz, there was a big mariachi band next to the big panga dock. The pangas were decorated with ribbons and balloons and other decorations.

What do you miss about Bainbridge island?
I miss my friends, and Gertrude, and Horse. I miss the old house and especially Sam, Julia, Jim and Tracey. And Jack and Stormy. They said they might visit us in Mexico sometime though.

What do you want them do know about what you’re doing?
That we’ve been seeing really cool things, wild seahorses and crocodiles, tropical birds, iguanas, sea turtles, and humpback whales 35’ away from our boat. We’ve seen blue footed boobies.

Tell me about school.
We don’t do school books as much, just being here when you live here for a few years you learn a lot of things. I’m studying fish; tropical fish like we’re seeing. Did you know a coelacanth lived more than 85 million years ago, and they’re still alive (but rare) today? The seahorse I saw in Punta de Mita was the second biggest species in the world.

Is there anything you’re worried about?
The only thing I worry about is not seeing my friends again. And tumbling the dinghy again.

Where do you want to go on the big trip?
I want to go to the sea of cortez, central and south America, pacific ocean- maybe to Hawaii and Howland island (in the Pacific, lots of wrecks from WWII). People think Amelia Earhart landed on that island, but I think she landed on the water next to it.

Anything else you want to share?
Not even 1% of kids get this experience to see this wildlife, swim with wild seahorses, all that cool stuff and to see a 12’ alligator maybe 20’ away and living on a boat and cruising all over mexico. From this view I think it’s pretty cool.

Niall loves getting reader comments on his blog. Please take a look if you haven’t yet! http://adventuresontotem.blogspot.com.