Life Aboard: Follow Your Dreams

Why do we do this? Why do we expose ourselves to the risk and the expense of traveling aboard a boat? What is it about spending time on a boat that has such a hold on me? Is it the water and light, the grease and gear oil, the expectation of a harbor yet discovered, or a friendship yet formed? For me it is all of it. I am a boater, an explorer, and maybe just a bit of a nerd who enjoys analyzing cold fronts and NEMA 2000 networks.

We are not “liveaboards,” domiciled in a floating tiny home tied to a dock. I know of these and am happy for anyone who finds joy in this. We are cruisers, underway as much or more than we are ever stationary. It is the challenge of planning, navigating and maintaining the boat that appeals to me. It is the awe found in a sunset and anticipation of the sunrise on an overnight passage that feeds my addiction.

When sharing with others that we live extended times of each year cruising aboard our boat, we’re usually met with “oh, how lucky you are” or “wow, you’re really living the dream.” I’ve yet to have anyone give us their condolences. We were reminded of just how lucky we are to live this life when we met another cruising couple recently.

We had just arrived at Coinjock Marina, in North Carolina, just a short day’s travel south of Norfolk, Virginia. Known for its Southern hospitality and prime rib dinners, it is a popular stop for cruising boats. During peak migration in the spring and fall, it’s quite the boat show watching dozens of express cruisers, sailboats and mega-yachts all tied stem to stern for the night.

In the “friendships yet made” department, we struck up a conversation with the couple tied behind us. They had just purchased their boat in New Jersey and were on their way to the Bahamas for the winter—they were embarking on their own dream of life aboard a cruising boat. In comparing notes on our plans, we mentioned that we had one more stop in North Carolina, and then would be making an overnight run to Charleston, South Carolina. Their eyes widened when they said they had never made an overnight run, and asked if they could join us. They added in a curious tone that they would like to move south as quickly as possible. As much as I love making new friends, I’m skeptical of traveling with a new acquaintance. I reluctantly said sure, as long as they understood our trawler’s slow cruising speed and that we would each be responsible for ourselves. We would learn later why they were so excited at the opportunity.

All was well, as we headed out Beaufort Inlet together, with an expected arrival into Charleston 34 hours later. They kept a safe distance behind us throughout the day, with little radio conversation between us. In the evening hours, as dusk set in, I noticed they were following a little closer behind. Not long into full darkness, they called us on the radio and asked if we had any brighter lights we could turn on. When inquiring why, they said they were having trouble with their autopilot and it was easier for them to steer a straight course by the light of our boat. Wondering if we were about to regret our decision, we said yes and turned on our aft boat-deck lights for them. It remained quiet through a peaceful night, and both boats arrived safely into Charleston the next day.

After cleaning up our boats, and an afternoon nap, we agreed to join them for dinner. First dinners with another cruising couple are a little like a first date, with every question asked except what’s your daddy do. When asked what brought them to the cruising life, they looked at each other with a somber look and both looked down for what seemed like an awkwardly long pause. The husband looked up at us while simultaneously taking his wife’s hand, and quietly explained she had just been diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer and were advised by their doctor that if they had any dreams, they should probably do their best to go experience them. Needless to say, we were not prepared for that answer and struggled to find an appropriate response. They graciously relieved us of any expectation of a response and expressed their gratitude for letting them join us.

I helped them fix their autopilot, and they stayed with us for a few more overnight runs down the coast, until they crossed over to the Bahamas. We had all enjoyed the moonlit nights of our passages together, and their situation gave the couple a new meaning for us, and one we will never forget.

Dori and I have a renewed gratitude for our life aboard, and we will happily turn our lights on for anyone else dreaming of following us.

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This article originally appeared in the October 2023 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.

Source: https://www.powerandmotoryacht.com/voyaging/life-aboard-follow-your-dreams