What do you do all day on a boat? Part 1 Mornings, power and water

Most of our friends know that J and I bought a catamaran in the Caribbean last fall. We had been working on it for a while since J thought that Florida was not far enough South for our escape from Michigan winters. We had a few false starts - maybe those stories will be a future blog. But we journeyed to St. Maarten in October 2019 for a sea test and a few weeks later, she was ours. She was stored on land there until we could return to sail her under her new name, Better Together. 

There are a lot of stories about our adventures getting her launched, handling the many issues that came up as we got to know her. Our early sailing adventures could fill many future blogs, but this one is intended to start to answer the most common question many people have: What do you do all day on a boat? 

Even before the current worldwide focus on staying put, life on a boat is about flexibility and living in the moment. You can make plans, but then you realize you are almost out of water, or the power is getting low or the anchor alarm goes off in the middle of the night, and you respond NOW - as a couple of our guests found out when the anchor slipped at 2 a.m. and we all got up to find another spot in the moonlit, crowded anchorage.

Most of the pressure in a crisis or "daily challenge", as I prefer to think of it, or falls on J since he understands all of these complicated electrical, plumbing, navigational and mechanical systems. He constantly amazes me by figuring things out and finding solutions, usually after lots of contemplating, sweating and crawling into small spaces. We are very grateful for all the parts the previous owners left us stocked with, stored literally in dozens of spaces. I have rummaged through all the lockers and tool boxes, not having any idea what these things are. But when J shows me a thingamabob, and says "I need one of these," I often remember just where to look. At least by the third or fourth try. 


Daily Ritual

Let's start with a "normal" day, waking up with the sun, as we usually do, anywhere from 5:30 to 6:30 a.m. J's favorite daily ritual is making us both a cup of cappuccino on the propane stove. He brought a copper stove top coffee maker from home and we found wonderful boxed milk that you can buy by the case and only refrigerate after opening. It turns to wonderful foamy milk from the steam on the coffee maker.  A very nice accompaniment as I read my newspaper online and eat my wheat-free breakfast cookies. 

The cookies are a recent addition. I make them at home, but finding almond flour, unsweetened coconut flakes, etc. was a challenge on the island. The oven on Better Together (BT) has no thermometer, so we have not tried it yet. But when we returned to St. Croix and had access to our condo which was not rented yet, I made a batch and took it there.  I used brown rice flour and extra raisins and nuts to replace the coconut flakes I could not find and made them in the microwave, not trusting the very old microwave/convection oven there. Since then, I found almond flour here, and ordered coconut from Walmart. My food allergies are happy.

During the early hours, J works on his memoir about his music career, writing 1000 words or more per day. I read the newspaper, do a yoga session if the boat is not moving too much, and sometimes eat cereal or eggs. 

Power Management


One of the first things we do in the mornings, even before the coffee ritual, is check the batteries. The ship is outfitted with solar panels and a wind generator that handle most of our needs on an ongoing basis. That works great to run the large and small refrigerators, lights and plugs for charging phones, tablets and computers. As long as the sun shines and the wind blows. Calm nights are a challenge, so J often starts the engines last thing at night and first thing in the morning, just to be sure.

When we first arrived, he spent a lot of time understanding the battery connections of the two engine-starting batteries and the three "house" batteries that run everything else. He knows a lot about them all, having replaced the regulator on the wind system, so the power now goes to the batteries (before it was shorted out), and installing a new alternator on one engine so it charges when running. He keeps a close eye on everything, as this system is crucial to our ability to stay on the water on a mooring or anchorage. 

Water Management

The other feature that allows us to be mostly independent is the large water tank system. About once every two weeks or so, we go to the fuel dock at the marina and add around 150 gallons of water to the two large tanks through a filter on our hose. Additional filters under the sink provide us with the abundant drinking water we need to stay hydrated in this warm climate. The galley sink, the sinks in the two heads and the hose on the aft steps where you rinse off salt water after swimming use this same water supply. Part of J's regular routine is checking the tank levels and maintaining the pumps. There is also a salt water system cooling the two engines that he reviews regularly. Good thing he has so much plumbing experience! 

J's next big project will be installing the hot water tank he recently acquired from the marina. The boat used to have one, but it had been removed. He is happy jumping in the ocean for a bath, and I have accepted sponge baths and outside hair washing, but I miss hot showers and warm water for dish washing. I tried one of those camping shower bags you heat in the sun and then hang from a tree, but when you put 5 gallons of water in it, it weighs 40 pounds and I cannot manage it. We have halyards on the boat that could handle it, but not near the aft stairs where I need it. 

Tank Management

Another regular task we work into our schedule is managing the waste from our heads. As we tell guests, nothing goes into the system that did not go through your body. But unlike Lake Erie, where we go to the dock to pump out the tanks, here you go out three miles into deep water to make fish food out of waste. Every week or ten days, if we are alone, or more often with guests, we have to find a weather window to sail out and back safely. Some days are more comfortable than others and we can turn it into a pleasure sail or handle this task while traveling to another location. Sometimes, if the wind and waves are very challenging, I am happy to get out and back quickly. J loves every chance to sail BT and we do learn more every time we sail.

You can probably tell already that our days are never the same and never dull. More next time about mundane jobs like provisioning, cooking and J's favorite, dinghy management!

Life's Ups and Downs

So much has happened in the two weeks since I last posted. It feels as if the world  has grown smaller. More people have realized we are all in this together and are staying home for the good of all. It is not easy. Lonely people are struggling. Outgoing types, like my J, are totally out of their element. But we are finding ways around it.

We have limited phone service on the boat, but we thought it would work to go Live on Facebook, and we set up equipment on a Sunday afternoon and gave it a shot. No dice. So we packed everything up, drove over to the condo, (still practicing social distancing) and tried again on the WiFi there. It was a great time for me and people kept trying to find it, but no one got in. For whatever reason, Facebook taped it and put it out afterwards. J was so frustrated not to have the level of interaction he wanted, so he deleted it all. He misses people and live performing more than anyone I know.

But you cannot keep J down long. We sailed out to deep water to clear our tanks (No pumps out here), and J suggested we sail to Frederiksted,  the second city on St. Croix. The weather was good and we had never seen it from the water. We were delighted to find a lovely anchorage with seven other boats and a beautiful shoreline. After being moored right next to the Christiansted boardwalk, it was a nice contrast.

We set the anchor and relaxed for the unobstructed view of the sunset on this west shoreline. With less light from the island, the stars were very visible - and I discovered the Southern Cross can be seen at midnight instead of 5 a.m. as it is in December and January. 

This location was so nice that we stayed two more nights. I donned my spring suit or short wet suit and did some snorkeling. The water by the boat is 15 feet deep and the current strong enough that I did not want to get too far away. At first, I saw nothing in the scattered vegetation on the sandy bottom. But I waited, and soon saw the movement of the fish feeding below. Just as I was taking a break, I caught a glimpse of a White-Spotted Eagle Ray nearby (photo from Wikipedia)! It was beautiful and graceful but moving too fast for me to follow.

After my break, I jumped back in to find a Southern Stingray on the sand immediately behind the boat accompanied by a dark fish who stayed with him as well as a small group of Yellowtail Snappers.  They stayed close and it seemed the ray kept turning to check me out as I tried to stay behind him so I would not scare him away.

J spent all this time singing and playing guitar. If you know J, you know he is a perfectionist. He has not been singing regularly on our trip and has been having some vocal issues. You would also know that he loves cappuccino and drinks it every morning.  So I took it very seriously when he decided to skip his morning coffee and see if it helped his voice. He even skipped his Sailor Jerry rum last night, so you know he is determined! To test the theory,  he has been singing st all hours of the day. Good news is the abstinence seems to be working and he sounds great. One day he spent some time sitting at the helm recording Son of a Sailor which he has since posted on his Facebook page. He is planning to go Live again this week at the home of friends who have faster internet. I have my fingers crossed it will work this time!

Meanwhile, I had a very emotional time. My daughter delivered a healthy 10 pound son after more than twenty-four hours in labor. We were delighted to welcome young Anthony Curtis! The next day we discovered that her best friend's husband of four months lost his battle with cancer the same day, a tragedy to all who knew him.

Erik, a friend from home went through a very scary time with COVID-19.  He is recovering and the story he wrote is being shared all over Facebook. I hope it helps others understand.

Myself - I burst into tears at the thought of  all of these events. So much emotion, not my usual reaction, but these are not usual times.

Life goes on. Let's Stay Home but stay in touch. Be kind to each other. Reach out to someone who might not be one to reach out when they need it. Together we can survive this. Peace.

Better Together in 2020

I always mean to get back to my blog. My husband, J, says we live fast and our friends seem to enjoy hearing about our exploits. But there never seems to be enough time or I am not feeling clever or creative.

Well, I am not feeling clever or creative, but suddenly, I find myself with lots of time. Just like most of the rest of the people I know and love. None of us dreamed there would be a pandemic, but here it is and we are all doing our part. 

At first, it all seemed very remote for us. We left on December 30th to pick up our new (previously-owned) catamaran in St. Maarten and spend five months cruising the Caribbean. We named her Better Together (BT) after the Jack Johnson song that J first sang to me 10 years ago, and which his grandson Gabe sang at our wedding almost eight years ago. The perfect name which we proudly put on the steps before we launched her.

This boat is bigger than our monohull in Lake Erie with many features than are new to us, like solar panels, dual engines and a wind generator. I investigated storage spaces, cleaning out and organizing while J figured out how to manage and fine tune the batteries, the water supply, the engine alarms and the sails! I did help with figuring out some things like the windlass for the anchor only runs when the port engine is on.  Thank goodness for Google searches!

J practiced docking this big vessel while I got better at leaping a two-foot gap to get on the dock and tie us up. Sometimes it is three or four feet and he has to do it himself. I am learning to tie on the dock lines and the fenders which are bigger and heavier than the ones at home. And to attach the hose and filter before filling our water tanks. 

We team up on raising and lowering the dinghy that in constant use to get to shore. At first, I had trouble getting in and out, but now I manage well, although my knees are dented from kneeling on hard docks. We pass our cargo back and forth, the groceries or laundry or whatever we are moving today. And I keep a big sponge in the dinghy that I use to bail the small amount of water that is always there, from rain or a slow leak that sneaks in now and then.

We came to St. Croix the first week - a long but calm 15-hour trip and we had dolphins all around us for a while! We have a rental condo and car and had stored our snorkeling equipment here. Our first visitors arrived in January and we enjoyed showing them the island and going on day sails.

Afterwards, the weather was not very conducive for starting our journey to the Leeward and Windward Islands, so we stayed  working on boat and upgrading the condo until early March.

More friends arrived and we sailed to the British Virgin Islands. They fit right in on Willy T's and at Pirate's Bight!

The weather was still a little rough with ocean swells, so we stayed in the BVI until they had to fly home. Then J and I sailed to St. Maarten. It was a long day, only 8 hours from Virgin Gorda. No dolphins this time, but we spotted whales!

The next morning, we listened to Cruisenet for the first time. A local guy gets all the folks on boats on the VHF radio to share info, announce classes and social events, sell extra stuff, etc. Everything sounded fine. Then we went to check in with Immigration and the Simpson Bay Lagoon Authority. Again, no problem.

We had been waiting to get back here to buy parts and things for the boat that are not readily available where we had been. We needed to find a business center to print some documents we needed to sign and send home. And we stopped for lunch at our favorite waterfront restaurant. 

We went back to the anchored boat. We had been following the story about the COVID-19 virus, but it was in China and Korea and Italy and on a cruise ship, but not anywhere near us. Or the U.S., where my daughter is expecting her first child any day. Where I expected to fly when I got the word and then return to finish our trip to Grenada. 

The next morning, as I drank my coffee and read news on my tablet, I realized that things had professed much further than I could imagine. Islands were restricting travel. Cruisenet announced that the French side of St. Martin was closing,  the Dutch side might follow soon. They suggested we all get in groceries for a week or two and prepare to stay put on our boats. 

We went to shore. Things were not restricted yet. Bought lots of groceries. And discussed what to do. We decided we needed to return to the U.S. territory of St, Croix where we have more resources and options. 

We got up and left at 5 a.m. for another 15 hour day. The wind was directly behind us, so we had to motor sail all day. We did see one small dolphin who drifted away quickly. I am more used to the waves and swells now, thanks to a crazy day in the BVI where the waves towered over us, and BT (the boat) took it in stride. We sailed into the familiar harbor after dark, only to drop anchor three times before finding a clear space among the many boats where there used to be a handful. 

So, here we are, practicing social distancing with the rest of the world, in limbo, in paradise. No idea when we will be able to get where we need to store the boat or what options we will have. Just trusting we will all get through this together.