Friday, January 22, 2021

Five years before the mast


               

This is an appropriate moment to revisit this long-neglected blog. We have a major anniversary to celebrate! Yes, Joe and I celebrated 20 years of marriage about three weeks ago and that was huge, but here’s another biggie. January 20, 2021, marked five years that the Grieser family has lived aboard Kyrie. Five years! We’re also getting close to the longest time we’ve lived in one particular residence. Before this, the longest time we had lived somewhere was Anchorage—June 2006 to July 2011. By next month, Kyrie as a home will surpass that.


                Memories flood back as I think about the last five years. The frenzy of packing up the house to leave Juneau. Seeing Kyrie for the first time in person and hauling everything from the overloaded van down to her, and somehow finding a place for everything. Adjusting to boat life, instead of house life—figuring out the stove and oven, having to move every time someone wanted something from a pantry, having to pack up and walk up the dock every time you wanted a shower, and getting in tune with the weather and realizing how much it affects our everyday life. Our trip back to Juneau from Washington—long days and so much to see, but not enough time to stop and explore. Weekends and two-week vacations in our floating home—is it really a vacation if you take your home with you? But at least I got to sleep in my own bed every night! Dealing with winters while living aboard—emptying the dehumidifier twice a day, pulling the girls’ frozen sheets off the wall, brushing snow off the plastic covering. Counting down the months and days until we could leave Juneau at last to officially start our adventure, and at the same time, wondering if we really will be able to leave.

                More memories: leaving Alaska with the realization that it would be a long time before we saw our home state again. Bouncing through heavy seas on the outside of Vancouver Island, gritting our teeth and knowing there was a hot springs at the end of it. Gritting our teeth again in Port Townsend at the price tag for the work that needed to be done, but knowing it all needed to be done to make our floating home ready for further adventures. Spending time with family and friends in Oregon, Monterrey, and San Diego. Weather keeping us in places longer than expected and having to rush through or skip other places to make up the time. The craziness of the Baja Ha-ha and meeting friends that we are still traveling with today. Swimming in the ocean, seeing fish we’ve only seen on TV, listening to the sound of the kids shrieking through their snorkels when they saw something exciting. Engrossing ourselves in a new culture with a language we could barely squeak by in, and enjoying meeting locals and seeing their amusement as we tried to communicate in Spanish. Learning how resilient we could all be as a global pandemic shut us down and how flexible the kids have proved to be as we bounced from place to place, trying to isolate, but still be with people (namely kids) as we could.

                Today, we are in Bahia Manzanillo. Where do we go from here? At the moment, I have no idea, and I’m honestly okay with that. These five years of boat life have given me and my family a much greater appreciation for living in the moment, while still looking ahead at future possibilities. We’re no hurry to go anywhere and simply want to enjoy wherever we are, with whoever we can share that time.