The view changes

     I'm still working on going through trip photos and writing up more highlights from the trip--because believe me, there will be a part 2 of those highlights. However, I have to interrupt that with a realization. I mentioned in a previous post that there will be times that I'll get a little deeper and share my thoughts and musings over this life of ours. This is most certainly one of those times...

     This actually just happened on Sunday, while we were motoring (as usual) back on the last leg of the trip. We anchored the last night in front of Horse and Colt Islands on the back side of Douglas to make Sunday's trip back to the harbor easier. I had been reading a book on my Kindle by Ella Carey called Paris Time Capsule and the two main characters were discussing work. I don't remember Loic's exact words, but he basically says that nothing is really work if it's what you love. I don't know why that hit me so hard, nor how exactly my train of thought jumped around, but I realized something at last Sunday morning as we were cleaning Kyrie up during that last run.
     We--this particular branch of the Grieser family, the crew on Kyrie--are cruisers. We're not preparing to be cruisers, in some limbo playing a waiting game. Truthfully, we became cruisers the day we moved aboard Kyrie. We are a family who lives on our boat and while yes, a good chunk of the time we are tied to the dock, working and saving to go somewhere else, we are not living a land-based life. Without really realizing it, I have been fighting that for two-and-a-half years. I have mentioned before I still try to live like we live in a house, but somehow, this revelation is different. I think, perhaps, it may have been meeting the crew of SV Arctic Monkey before we left on our trip that helped bring this shift in mindset around.
     One thing Joe and I have both noticed and commented on is the way we relate to people now. Most of our family and friends, while excited and supportive of our plans (I love you all, so please forgive me if I sound callous), just don't get it. What we have already done as a family--exploring nooks and crannies in BC and Southeast Alaska, the feeling of peace when the anchor sets and everything is turned off and it's all quiet in a secluded anchorage.... I'm sure everyone has something that gives them the same feeling, but finding another family who truly gets what we are doing just hadn't happened yet. Then, we met the Morgans.
      I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. It's a huge time suck that most of the time I just don't get anything of substance from, but there are some liveaboard and cruising family pages that I have found and become a part of, which has been enlightening. I happened to come across Zetty Morgan's post that they were in Ketchikan and would be heading north to Juneau. They have three kids, just like us, and I thought I would say hello. They arrived in Auke Bay the day before we were leaving on our trip, and Joe and I thought it might be fun to meet them, if they were up to it. We agreed to meet them at a hamburger stand in Auke Bay and drove over there.
     I have read about the way cruising families meet other families and just click. (Not saying cruisers have a monopoly on this kind of relationship, but it seems to happen a lot with travelers.) You start talking and suddenly have all kinds of things in common. That's what happened. We spent three hours with this family, first at the restaurant, and then down at their boat. You would have thought we had known each other for years, the way we all were chatting and laughing, comparing adventures and experiences. Rachael had to be dug out from the back of their middle daughter Leah's bunk, because they had become such fast friends our poor girl didn't want to leave! We ran into them again out at White Sulphur Hot Springs and once again, it was instant fun and hard to say farewell.
     I don't know how to describe this mind shift any further. I have noticed that we are gradually pulling away from some of our acquaintances here. Is it because we have less in common, or because we are trying to make our departure in a year easier? I don't know. Will this shift in how I see myself, my family, stick, even when this glorious summer is over and we settle into the bustle of school work and activities for the winter? Will I still be able to view us as travelers, simply in one place for long-term, gearing up to continue the adventure? Or will I allow myself to get caught up again and compare us to other people whose lives are so different from our life? Every person has his or her own life to live. I have my own story to write and it can't be written from someone else's script.