Getting used to it... Well, working on getting used to it.

Some of you may wonder what it's like to live on a boat, the day-to-day part of actually living while on a boat.  In order to answer that, I thought I might run you through a few "typical" days we are having here in the harbor, then give you a few things that are essential for us to think about.  These - as you will see - are parts of life we definitely took for granted while on land and make me both love and hate living on a boat.

Sunset at Marathon Harbor

So, one typical day for us is to wake up when the sun starts coming through the hatch because, as long as it's not raining, we leave the door open throughout the night.  The breeze that comes across our bed is just enough to keep us peacefully sleeping throughout the night, even with two fluffy, over-fed kitties keeping our legs or bellies warm.  Once the sun has started coming through, the heavier of the two cats places all four of his feet around my bladder and gains the obligatory 15 pounds I think cats gain just for these full-bladder-standing times.  So, now I have to find some form of clothing to throw on in order to climb out of our room, cross through the cockpit, and get to use the toilet (or "head").  This process takes me up one set of three stairs and down another set of stairs that I must go backwards down and use handles to make sure my groggy head doesn't end up crashing into anything.  Flushing the toilet involves grabbing a small handle next to the toilet (like so close to it that I sit on it as I sit on the toilet) and pumping it up and down a few times to get the bowl clear of anything.  Then, I move a small valve and pump a few more times in order to bring salt water into the toilet bowl helping to cover the smell of the holding tank (more on this later).

Back up the three stairs (I have now done the equivalent of two semi-pull-ups), I cross back to the stateroom and climb back in bed in order to listen to The Net while either cuddling with the Captain or listening to him cook breakfast.  Most people would probably be amazed at how we can pull off a huge breakfast of eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and cafe` con leche on a two-burner stove, but we eat well!  While one person cooks, typically the other person is either a lazy bum (that's usually me) or is scooping out the cat box...  Two cats on the boat with one box means this gets done DAILY because they have zero problem finding a less-smelly location to do their business if we don't take care of ours.

After we have finished eating on-deck and watching the sun finish coming up, one plan is for the Captain to go to shore and hop on the internet in order to get some work done while I stay behind and clean up some (now, mind you, I am saying this is one of MANY daily plans, not one that happens daily).  This can include gathering up the dishes from the night before and breakfast into a bucket on deck, covering them with salt water which is drawn with another bucket, and washing as I watch for jumping fish and wave to passing boats.  Next, the soap is rinsed off with a clean bucket of salt water, then into a bucket where less than half a gallon of fresh water is used to rinse the salt.  All dishes are left on deck to dry as the boat-cleaning process begins.  Now, mind you, "begins" is not quite the right word because as each bucket of water is finished with its dish-cleaning usefulness, it is poured onto the outer part of the boat deck where cat litter, dirt, and other stuff has accumulated, rinsing the dirtiness overboard.

The next part of the day is really dependent on what needs to be done, what kind of mood we are in, and whether or not I have to go to work at some point (if I work at 10:00 in the morning, I'm already there by this point and the Captain is on dish detail).  Some days, there is scrubbing the floors and trying to make the boat presentable and comfortable; again, this is done mostly with salt water as we have an abundance compared with the limited 30 gallons of fresh water we have on-board.  There are the days when we have to run around getting parts and pieces for the boat, grocery shopping, or doing what most grown people do with their days to take care of the household.  Other days, we grab a sandwich and head to lie on the beach with a good book; some days, we don't even make it off the boat and instead read those good books on deck, looking around our water-front property.

One of my favorite parts of the day comes every evening, though it gets later and later the longer we stay here.  At sunset, we try to find ourselves on-deck if we are on the boat in order to watch the Sun leave us for the night.  While the scene is beautifully painted, I have never been in a community before which communally rejoices in the setting Sun the way boaters do: each sunset is punctuated with the sounds of (sometimes) a cannon or two and the blowing of conch shells from so many different directions it's hard to count.  It brings a smile to my face every single evening... so does the glass of wine I typically have in-hand by this point!

The Dinghy Dock

Nights are a crap-shoot as to what we might be up to: cooking dinner and watching a movie on the boat, going out to dinner, reading on the boat, sitting on deck and looking at the stars while talking to each other...  Unfortunately, my job at a restaurant/bar necessitates my being at work about four nights a week, meaning I have to be there at 5:00 and don't get to come home until midnight or later.  On these nights, the Captain will read (and fall asleep) or go to another boat and play poker with other captains while waiting for my call to come in that it is time to pick me up.  Now, mind you that picking me up is not just jumping in the car and driving over - there is always the trip from the boat to land via our dinghy, then the car ride, then another dinghy ride back to the boat.  Some windy, chilly nights, that ride seems to take forever, let me tell you!  The nights I don't have to work are fun around the marina when we come with wine and chairs to watch movies on the big screen (Thursday nights), bring a dish to the potluck Meet & Greet (Wednesday nights), or listen to music performed by fellow boaters as we meet those more inclined to drink than to sing (Saturday nights).

All in all, not a bad life... Not a bad life at all.  Even the nights I have to work are fun in that there is no stress to bring home, I usually have a shot or two at work with the bartenders, and I walk away with cash in my pocket every time - sometimes averaging out to a larger pay than I was making in my "grown-up" job.  Not bad, I say.

Now, as promised, I will share the aspects of life that have become more needful of my attention as a boater which were so easy to dismiss before this life aquatic began:

• I mentioned a holding tank earlier which is where our waste goes when we "flush the toilet" - this tank has an eight-gallon holding capacity and will overflow into the bottom part of the boat (the bilge) when that capacity is not paid attention to.  We learned this our first week "on the hook", a lesson we have taken seriously and will not be able to forget any time soon.
• Another holding tank we have is for fresh water - it holds 25 gallons which comes through one of our three sinks, two bathroom ("head") sinks and one in the kitchen ("galley").  Our main head has a tube attached to the sink with a shower head on the end, enabling us to take showers either in the bathroom or on deck once we have left this area and no longer have showers.  Furthermore, we have three six-gallon plastic jerry jugs on deck and two one-gallon water jugs that we have managed to hold onto.  And, that is it - all of our water comes from these 35-gallons worth of containers, meaning that we have to pay careful attention to how much water we use and plan for filling up in other countries (where it may be more expensive than the $0.05 we pay now).  The Captain and I would like to devise a water-catchment system, though this will be something that will come along after the High Priority List is taken care of.
• Electricity doesn't come from a magical switch on the wall - it is an on-going process that must be paid attention to.  We have a solar panel that produces more electricity than we use as yet because we do not have a refrigeration system (one of the largest draws of electricity on a boat) or a dryer (one of the largest draws in a house), so we should not have to think constantly about how much electricity we use though we turn off lights we are not using.  We were blessed enough to buy a boat that came with two of the best marine batteries, though they do not last forever and we have to make sure to take care of them.  One part in taking care of the batteries is to ensure they are not overloaded by power coming from the solar panel though separating the panel and batteries with a charge controller.  The Captain was fortunate enough to buy one a few weeks ago for a GREAT price and we were up and running making our own electricity...  But last week, while working on something else, a live wire got pulled out of the charge controller and I might have had a slip of my hand while trying to help.  Electronic equipment does NOT like 215 watts touching the components of the device, it turns out...  So, we are waiting for a new one.  Sucks.
• Propane tanks are different than having natural gas piped into your house because they are finite.  The Captain and I make sure to have as much of our food prepared to cook before we get going in order to conserve gas once we get cooking.  Though we have yet to get through our first tank, my life in Jamaica prepared me for this part - always have a full tank as back-up for when you run out!
• Keeping a good "house" is an absolute necessity.  You learn very quickly that you need to put things away and in their proper space.  Lingering dishes, laundry, and groceries, as well as other randomness quickly closes in on you.
• "Personal space" is not as important when your space gets small - but it still IS a necessity!  Having a day a week to myself on the boat as Rob works or runs errands is nice and important, but I don't mind having him literally three inches from me as we get ready for bed.  I guess we all adapt to what we have.
• And, finally, "home" is where you make it.  As I look around the boat and see the few material belongings we have, all of our books, throw pillows that I bought six years ago, Rob's trinkets, and the love presents we have acquired since beginning this journey, I feel comfortable and peaceful knowing that this is the first home either Rob or I have ever owned (and we own it OUTRIGHT!!!).  We have made it ours, we will continue to make it ours, and it is our collective dream come true!  How much more homey could a place be?