Deciding to leave our jobs
(temporarily, at least) and go sailing might sound like a radical
step, especially after living for the past 12 years on a ranch in the
Sonoran desert. But as we looked back, the impetus for this change
was surprisingly easy to track. There were really three intertwined
threads – one was the desire to shake up the routine and reduce
work stress. The second thread is what led us to sailing rather than,
say, trekking or RVing or skydiving. The third thread was a growing
sense of urgency about making this big shift in our lives before we
got too old to do it.
First, making the break: Back in 2008,
in spite of the terrible economy, we were making ends meet. Sue was working as a speech-language pathologist in
a local school district and, other than the occasional workplace
gripes, she derived a lot of pleasure from her 40-some-odd students.
Curtis was fully immersed in his real estate business and continued
to make a few sales. Admittedly, however, his stress level was high:
the phone didn't ring much, the potential buyers he did find were
skittish, and the course of each sale was highly unpredictable. The
result was that Curtis was preoccupied with work 24/7, didn't take
enough time to exercise and have fun, and was in danger of burning
out. Meanwhile, Sue had gotten hooked on botany and was busy hiking,
photographing, and obsessing over wildflowers and field guides during
her non-working hours. We talked many times about the value of
non-work activities to bring balance to your life and relieve stress.
Curtis acknowledged he needed a way to get out of his “work mind,”
and he promised to look around for something else to do. A few months
went by, with real estate continuing to stagnate. One day, Sue
noticed a curious theme running through the pile accumulating on
Curtis's bedside table:
The Cruising Life (Jim Trefethen),
How
to Sail around the World (Hal Roth),
Sail magazine,
Cruising World. And others. “What's up?” Sue asked
herself. “What's up?” she asked Curtis. “Uh, wanna sail around
the world?” he proposed. “Hmm,” said Sue. (More, later, on
Sue's evolution from non-cruiser to “How soon can we leave?”)
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| Curtis on M/V Catalyst |
Second, why cruising*? Curtis says the
idea of living aboard began for him on a trip we took to Alaska in
2007. Sue's parents wanted to see the wilds and waters of Alaska,
including bears, orcas, seabirds, and glaciers, and they wanted us to
go with them. We all nixed the idea of a big cruise ship (too removed
from nature, too much emphasis on dining and pre-arranged
activities). We also agreed that we didn't want to have to pack up
and change rooms all the time, so taking public ferries from island
to island was out. After much searching, we hit upon a trip through
Alaska's Inside Passage offered by Cloud Ridge Naturalists (led by
the wonderful and quirky Audrey Benedict). We spent seven days aboard the
M/V Catalyst, a classic 75-foot boat built in 1932 as a research
vessel for the University of Washington. Anchoring out each night,
never pulling into harbors (never even seeing another boat!), taking
short trips in the Zodiac or kayaks, sketching and photographing
orcas and icebergs and each other, and adjusting our daily schedules
to the rhythm of the boat and its crew – Curtis and Sue both agreed
this was one of the best travel experiences we'd ever had. But it was
more than just “travel”; being on the Catalyst felt like a
different way to live.
 |
| M/V Catalyst |
Finally, why now? When you are young,
most of the people you know well are alive and reasonably healthy.
But as you move along through the years, “stuff” happens –
friends and family members get sick or hurt in accidents, or die, and
there seems to be a randomness about it all. You are like a drop of
water running along the back of someone's hand: you might go left or
right, or stay straight, or pool in a tiny indent. You might be
thrown suddenly off course by a wrinkle, a hair, or a scar. You might
travel the length of a finger or you might just zip over the edge and
hang or drop from the palm. So, what is to be done about all this
unpredictability? Since you can't control what ultimately happens to
you, it seems important to do the things you want to do before age or
events prevent you. It's the “carpe diem” thing! Mark Twain is
seriously over-quoted on the sailing blogs we follow, but he's just
too great to ignore:
“It is the epitome of life. The first
half of life consists of the capacity to enjoy without the chance;
the last half consists of the chance without the capacity.” –
Mark Twain, letter to Edward Dimmit, 19 July 1901
Let's just say that we're trying to
have the chance to enjoy while our capacities are still intact.
*For the purposes of this blog, I would
define sailing as
leaving on a sailboat and coming back the same
day. I would define cruising as
leaving on a sailboat and
maybe not coming back for a few days or years; i.e., living aboard
for periods of time.
First, making the break: Back in 2008,
in spite of the terrible economy, we were making ends meet. Sue was working as a speech-language pathologist in
a local school district and, other than the occasional workplace
gripes, she derived a lot of pleasure from her 40-some-odd students.
Curtis was fully immersed in his real estate business and continued
to make a few sales. Admittedly, however, his stress level was high:
the phone didn't ring much, the potential buyers he did find were
skittish, and the course of each sale was highly unpredictable. The
result was that Curtis was preoccupied with work 24/7, didn't take
enough time to exercise and have fun, and was in danger of burning
out. Meanwhile, Sue had gotten hooked on botany and was busy hiking,
photographing, and obsessing over wildflowers and field guides during
her non-working hours. We talked many times about the value of
non-work activities to bring balance to your life and relieve stress.
Curtis acknowledged he needed a way to get out of his “work mind,”
and he promised to look around for something else to do. A few months
went by, with real estate continuing to stagnate. One day, Sue
noticed a curious theme running through the pile accumulating on
Curtis's bedside table: The Cruising Life (Jim Trefethen), How
to Sail around the World (Hal Roth), Sail magazine,
Cruising World. And others. “What's up?” Sue asked
herself. “What's up?” she asked Curtis. “Uh, wanna sail around
the world?” he proposed. “Hmm,” said Sue. (More, later, on
Sue's evolution from non-cruiser to “How soon can we leave?”)
*For the purposes of this blog, I would
define sailing as leaving on a sailboat and coming back the same
day. I would define cruising as leaving on a sailboat and
maybe not coming back for a few days or years; i.e., living aboard
for periods of time.