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My first time on a sailing boat – or why women don’t want to go sailing with their husbands

Signe Storr — Fri, 17 Jan 2014 00:53:56 +0000

When I was told that I could easily wear my brand new Jimmy Choo stilettos
on a sailing holiday, I agreed to go

“You poor thing!”, an American girl said to me, when I told her about the conditions under which I lived on my boyfriend’s 30 foot sailing boat. And I was close to agree with her, though I felt I was coming along very well in adjusting to the life on a boat.

How it all began

In December 2010 I met Henrik, and we had not reached New Years Eve the same year, before he told me that he had a sailing boat currently moored in Mallorca in the Mediterranean, and he had bought it with the purpose of sailing around the world.

I had at this point only once before sat foot on a sailing boat. The boat had moved, as I stepped aboard, which had frightened me so much that I peed in my pants. I was 4 years old!

But this was nevertheless my only experience with boats at the age of 31. Henrik told me though about white beaches, turquoise waters, sunshine and champagne, and when I was told that I could easily wear my brand new Jimmy Choo stilettos on a sailing holiday, I agreed to go with him for a couple of months the following summer. I pictured myself on a larger yacht in a white crocheted bikini, a soft hat on a sun deck, reading fashion magazines, and drinking cocktails. I had completely bought into the idea!

Henrik and Signe

What’s not to like?

As soon I started talking about our upcoming trip with enthusiasm, Henrik began talking about small marine toilets, limited amounts of water and electrical power on board, and that the boat we were to sail on wouldn’t ressemble the 60 foot something Swan he had showed me on a boat show. But regardless how persistent he was in telling me about the drawbacks of sailing, I didn’t hear any of it. I was too busy picturing myself looking like Brigitte Bardot on a Mediterranean cruise, and the only thing I could think about life on a boat was: What’s not to like?

This question I was soon to answer, though, when we in the end of June 2011 went to Mallorca to stay on an older 30-foot sailing boat for three months, and after one week I made the following list of things I didn’t like:

The list

The boat is constantly moving, also when we are in port, the toilet is very small and needs to be flushed with a manual pump, there are no other options for showering than a cold one on the deck, and I must to a larger extent than I like use public restrooms and showers.
There are no reasons what so ever to wear anything else but practical clothes and shoes, I cannot see when I can wear my stilettos and silk dresses, or make use of the rather broad selection of Chanel nail polish and makeup, I have brought.
On top of that I have no Wi-Fi connection to my iPhone, the refrigerator is very small, so the water I drink is in best cases lukewarm, and the space inside the boat is so narrow that I hit myself on anything I can walk into, fall into etc., which has made my shins more blue that suntanned.

I’m not alone

I wasn’t thrilled! But Henrik likes to sail very much, and I like him very much, so I made an effort not to express myself too crudely about the life on board, even though it sometimes was quite difficult. I also felt somewhat ungrateful when I didn’t manage to control myself, and said something like “I’m so tired of this rotten boat!”

It is my understanding, however, that I am not the only woman with strong reservations towards life on board a sailing yacht. In a small marina on Mallorca we met a man, when we berthed, who was nice to help me with the mooring lines. I asked him, if he had a boat in the same marina, but he was on a charter holiday, he said, obviously ashamed of the situation. I then asked him if he had a boat another place, and he answered that he no longer had one since… And then he didn’t say any more, but instead pointed at his wife and two children, while he shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t that I didn’t sympathize with his wife, but I felt really sorry for him that he had had to exchange his boat for a week on a Sunwing resort on Mallorca.

But why is it that women don’t want to go sailing with their husbands?

A man and his boat

Something happens to a man when it concerns his boat that doesn’t happen around his house and garden: He becomes completely hysterical! He washes and polishes his boat as soon as he eyes an opportunity for it, no one can set a mark on his boat, and everything is lacquered and kept to perfection, which his wife probably never would have guessed he was capable of.

And at the same time he calls out commands behind the steering wheel or tiller, while he makes his wife or girlfriend rush around on the deck with the mooring lines and jump from the boat to the pier and back again, and when he shouts “watch out!”, it is the boat she should watch out for, not herself. And all of this is regardless of her age and nimbleness!

However, I don’t believe that men’s hysteria is the main reason why a lot of women are hesitating when it comes to sailing. Instead I think that the life on a sailing vessel puts a lot of women out of their comfort zone, myself included. There is probably a reason why it is a universal desire for women to own a large bathroom or a walk-in closet! And even though I thought that the conditions provided for me on our small boat were inadequate, I am sure that women on larger vessels also suffer privations and feel like compromising. This doesn’t mean that she on good days cannot enjoy the boating life and consider it charming, but on bad days I am sure she feels she deserves better.

Adjusting to sailing life

I began to adjust to the sailing life after a couple of weeks, and when we after four weeks reached the most wonderful place south of Ibiza, where we anchored, I began regarding myself as one of those women who does want to go sailing with her husband. (And especially when we talked about getting a bigger boat).

Crusing life can be good!

And my newly acquired self-perception was luckily confirmed, when we a week later met a young man, who also was sailing in the Mediterranean. Henrik spoke very positively about me, and how I had taken on boating life “like a duck to water”. The young man wanted to sail with a girlfriend as well, but he didn’t have “a Signe”, as he so nicely put it. At that point I forgot all about my list and the fact that we the day before had rowed from the boat ashore in our red dinghy to go partying on Ibiza, and I had had to sit with my dress above my hips and plastic bags on my nice shoes to keep me from getting dirty.

Afterwards the remark has annoyed me a bit, though. Is it ever possible to escape sailing now?

How do you get your wife on board?

How do you get your girlfriend or wife to go with you sailing? How do you get her to stand it or even better to enjoy it?

The American girl in Barcelona asked me, what I liked about sailing, when I had reassured her that it wasn’t so bad after all. When she asked me, I didn’t quite know what to answer. Did I just endure not wearing makeup, being indifferent about my clothes, the frequent use of public restrooms, and the fact that everything was more difficult, because it was a limited period? Perhaps.

But I have thought of her question since, and I have reached the conclusion that it is especially the feeling of independence that follows, when you sail that appeals to me. The fact that we can decide ourselves where we want to go, when we want to go, and for how long we want to stay. Furthermore, we had splendid weather in the 2½ months we were sailing, which significance should not be underestimated. Had we sailed in Denmark, where we live, in slightly bad weather for a couple of months, I wouldn’t have coped with half of it!

Sunset over the anchorage

Besides, Henrik was nice to let me decide some of our destinations, he went with me shopping and took me out to nice dinners, and he basically did some of the things that I wanted to do. In that way it also became easier for me to make an effort to enjoy it – and meanwhile cut down on my demands for my daily routines and outward appearance.

Sailing again

During my first summer of sailing, I would never have believed what I know now: That I would move on to the boat and go sailing around the world! I don’t know how Henrik did it, but the fact is that we are right now on the Canary Islands waiting to cross the Atlantic Ocean with Jimmy Cornell’s new transatlantic rally, The Atlantic Odyssey.

Henrik and Signe leaving the Canary Islands aboard CAPIBARA

The next couple of years we plan to cruise the Caribbean and the American east coast and then truck the boat to the west coast of America and go from there to Hawaii and French Polynesia. We are still sailing in the same boat – and I still bring my stilettos and silk dresses, even though I don’t wear them very often.

I don’t think Henrik and I have the same approach for sailing though: He likes the sailing part, and I like to see new places.

But it works so far, so maybe it is possible after all for men to get their girlfriends and wives to go sailing!

The boat is called Capibara and is an Allegro 30 from 1987.

About Signe Storr

My name is Signe Dorothea Storr, I’m from Denmark, and I’m 34 years old. Up until two years ago, I had never sailed on a sailboat. Now, I live on board my partner Henrik’s 30 foot sailing boat, a Swedish build Allegro 30 from 1988, and I’m about to go cruising around the world.

Originally, I’m a school teacher with a masters degree in IT, communication and learning.

Balance of power … afloat

Jaye Lunsford — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 13:05:01 +0000

Am I the only one who finds this cringe-worthy?

Photo from www.boatnamegear.com

I don’t mean the t-shirts. I know absolutely nothing about the quality of the manufacturer whose website I found them on. Nor can I blame their product design; they’re simply reacting to the market and public perception.

What offends me to the bottom of my unabashedly feminist soul is the automatic assumption of gender roles — that in any boating couple, the man is the captain and the woman is in the subordinate position. That’s the way the shirts are designed and there’s no other option. The professional one with the collar and the “Captain” designation is cut for a man’s body, and the cute pink one that is cut for the female is designated “First Mate.”

A rather dread metaphor for squeezing children into roles defined at birth by gender, whether they fit or not, now that I think about it.

Gwen Hamlin wrote about relationship power imbalance and the problems it causes.

You know what, though?

Perfect power balance in a relationship can cause its own set of challenges as great as those caused by imbalance.

Dan and I are on the opposite end of the relationship power balance spectrum from the one Gwen writes about – we’re two very strong personalities in a relationship as egalitarian as we can make it. We’re not Captain and First Mate, we’re co-captains.

We recently gave a talk to a group of retired geologists and hydrologists that described both living aboard and the interesting science tidbits we learned along the way. During the Q and A session that followed, one gentleman asked, “Which of you is the captain?” I pointed at Dan while he was pointing at me, we looked at each other and the two of burst out laughing (as did the questioner); guess that says it all.

Little boat in the emptiness … and by the flat look of the water, we aren’t getting anywhere any time soon
(photo by Joe McCary)

Or, as fellow liveaboard and mediator Suzanne Wheeler describes it, “…real love requires two whole, autonomous people who are better together, but are able to stand alone.”

Wait a minute. Two very strong equal personalities? Cooped up together 24/7? In a 33-foot cruising sailboat? For ten years? And not drive each other crazy? If we’re not to be Suzanne’s next clients, there’s a relationship challenge!

We live by relationship advice that anyone on land would well understand. Ideas about communicating, fighting fair, boundaries, not embarrassing each other in public, and other clichés are available all over the internet and in supermarket checkout stand magazines.

Still, the sailing aspect adds its own unique complications to that stock advice.

Five principles keep our sailing smooth.

Space – the first frontier: We’re trapped together on a small sailboat, sometimes for days, with no exit. If we’re at sea or riding out a storm anchored in “the boonies” we can’t get more than about an arm’s length from each other. We’re locked together in the same room, Dan on port and me on starboard or vice-versa, and there’s often no TV or internet to escape to or other outside stimulation.

Reading, side by side in the main cabin, a good book, a cup of coffee, and a fluffy lap blanket sounds cozy … until DAY 6 of being stuck in an isolated anchorage in Georgia in 30-35 kt winds (I’m not in the photo of course because I’m taking it)

We can’t give each other physical privacy, but we can respect each other’s mental space with “virtual” privacy, courtesies familiar to any cubicle dweller. No shoulder surfing or reading each other’s drafts without permission. (It helps to have illegible handwriting!) No commenting on overheard cellphone conversations (or *bathroom noises.*) Of course you heard it, but you pretend you didn’t, and don’t comment unless invited.

It’s nothing personal, it’s just our policy: Making decisions takes time and energy, so if we can preempt having to make a decision, so much the better. Having a rule set up in advance means we don’t have to hash out every choice, and every decision doesn’t involve a power struggle, a winner, and a loser.

Here’s an example: We’re equal in all decisions, but we can’t afford to fight over every decision while sailing. Sometimes there isn’t time to debate an action, and even if there was, debating every minor point would likely be a strain on the relationship. “Let’s do it this way!” “No, that way!” “NO! ME! MY way!”

Instead, we have a decision rule we call “more conservative wins.” (not not not a political statement!) Whichever suggestion is the safer, more conservative approach to a sailing option is the one we use, no need for lengthy discussion or debate. So, if the wind is beginning to pick up, and one of us wants to reef while the other wants to sail faster … we reef. If one of us wants to take a shortcut while the other wants to honor all the channel markers … we go the long way around.

Remind me again what they told us in school about this: Some people maintain that the best way to learn to sail is to start with dinghies to really get the understanding of the forces involved in a small, fun, agile boat, then go to gradually larger, more complex vessels and systems. Others prefer book learning and vector diagrams before venturing onto the water. And of course there are numerous different ways to accomplish the same result. Often one isn’t “right” or “wrong;” they’re just different.

What mattered most for us was that we both learned the same way, from the same person/organization/class/book, at the same time. Again, no need to discuss or debate whose way is better, or pit advice from my teacher against advice from his teacher. (For this reason, I’m not particularly a fan of “women-only” courses, in sailing or anything else, that would preclude our learning together, merely because one of us is male. A brain is a brain, they only come in grey, they don’t come in pink or blue, and a task on a boat is just a task, it doesn’t matter who does it as long as it gets done.)

Don’t ask, don’t tell (DADT): Another one about respect for each other’s virtual privacy. There’s very little discretionary space aboard the boat. Once we’ve filled the lockers with food and tools and safety gear there’s not a lot of room left over for personal gear (clothing and hygiene) and even less for toys.

My private DADT locker, full of seashells and sentimental keepsakes and sparkly things

Still, although almost all the lockers are communal property, each of us has a personal locker that the other doesn’t access.

In mine, I can store frivolous items like collected beach glass and seashells, silly sentimental keepsakes, or the pastels that I keep thinking I’ll miraculously acquire the talent to put to good use, and Dan doesn’t get to comment on how that precious storage space could be put to better use storing something that will, you know, actually serve a purpose.

In Dan’s he can also store, without comment … um, I have no idea what he stores there. That’s the entire point of a DADT locker.

Alike and equal are two different things: Although we learned to sail together, we quickly found that we divided the work. Each of us can do every single one of the tasks that the boat requires, after a fashion. But that doesn’t mean that we’re both equally good at, or both interested in, the same things.


Dan, checking on the shape of the sails to try and squeeze out a bit more speed on a light air day in the Chesapeake (photo by James Forsyth)		Chief navigator! Bringin’ us back in from the ocean to the Intracoastal Waterway

We both acknowledge that Dan’s the better sail trimmer, he can eke an extra quarter of a knot out of any configuration, and he loves to tweak and try. I can adjust the sails well enough to get us going where we’re going, although it may not be as fast or comfortable as when he does it. When it matters, he’s got the expertise to pick the best way to accomplish the task.

Similarly, I’m the better navigator, quicker to read the charts and geekier with the chartplotter.

Even though our skills are not alike, we respect and treat each other as equals in the relationship. For us, one of us being better at something doesn’t change the power balance.

Of course, not all our tips would work for everyone, depending on where they started from, sailing skill level and interest, and relationship dynamics. Hopefully, though, they’ll provide a starting point for conversations that can help minimize conflict.

About Jaye Lunsford

An hour after Jaye hung up the phone on her last-ever teleconference as a career senior environmental scientist for the Federal government, she and husband Dan untied the docklines of their CSY 33 and set out down the US East Coast for the Bahamas.

She writes the blog “Life Afloat” for the Annapolis Capital-Gazette newspaper and occasionally lectures on pirates and maritime history, and environmental science tidbits for non-boaters.

Sailing as a Metaphor for Marriage

Janna Cawrse Esarey — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 13:16:18 +0000

Photo by Janna Cawrse Esarey

There are many things I love about sailing: The quality time, the travel, the beauty. The exhilaration of being propelled by wind. The comfort of cockpit cushions when curled up with a good book.

But another thing I love about sailing, truly, is its wealth of metaphors for life and love.

Forgive me. I was an English teacher. And a philosophy major. And sailing gives you lots of time to think. So here’s my theory: Love is like sailing; it requires balance, attention, and time.

The first concept, BALANCE, is easy enough to understand.

Tableau Vivant – Artwork by Carolyn McGown

We all know the sails must be properly set to capture the wind. When the sails are out of balance, the boat luffs, lugs, yaws, or broaches. A tweak here or a reef there can mean the difference between a La-Z-boy sort of ride or the rollercoaster from Hell.

And it’s the same in relationships, isn’t it? The smallest thing can bug you (Graeme checking race results online while we’re talking), and the smallest thing can help (our new rule: No Laptops In The Living Room). Sometimes, though, things get so out of whack that it takes more than a tweak to get back in balance. And then, as in sailing, you have to reef hard or drop sail, then set a new course together.

Graeme focused on sail trim
Photo by Janna Cawrse Esarey

Now, you’d think, based on my husband’s astounding obsession with maximizing speed, that he’d be a superstar at this next skill: PAYING ATTENTION.

It’s amazing how he has the bandwidth to eke out an extra half-knot from our mainsail, yet glazes over when I expound on my friend’s sister’s daughter’s emotional state (better save that one for my girlfriends).

Good thing the kind of attention required in marriage, as in sailing, involves an autopilot. Which sounds like a recipe for divorce, but any cruiser knows that autopilots do not mean laziness; you’re checking the horizon, listening to the forecast, tapping the barometer, watching for squalls, and, most importantly, adjusting.

We do this in relationships, too. We check in with each other, share a meal, tell a story, have sex, take a stroll—little things that keep us tuned into ourselves and our partner. But we don’t need to grip the wheel constantly (more time for girlfriends that way).

After all, you could hand-steer a boat for nine placid hours straight, but that would wipe you out for the one hour you really need to pay attention: when a storm hits.

Finally, there’s TIME.

DRAGONFLY Crossing

Remember the first time you stepped aboard? It may have been love at first sight, or it took a little getting used to. Either way you committed. You said this is the (relation)ship for me.

Still you were a bit awkward with the tiller, you didn’t know what all those ropes—sorry, lines—were for, and your innards lurched every time the boat heeled. But you got used to it. You learned the rhythms, the quirks, the frustrations, the joys.

And, sure, when bad weather hit, you wondered about your sanity in choosing such a course, but even the storms got easier, or at least you got better at forecasting them and navigating your way through them.

Time. As my mom says to just about everything, “Time in the boat, honey. It’s all about time in the boat.”

You know, guys sometimes grumble that women are confusing, irrational, impossible creatures. That’s how I feel about our sailboat sometimes. But maybe I’m on to something here. Next time Graeme is confounded by my womanly ways, I’ll have him ask himself, “What would Kotuku need?”
Easy: balance, attention, and time.

About Janna Cawrse Esarey

Janna Cawrse Esarey is the author of the Indie-bestselling memoir, The Motion of the Ocean: 1 Small Boat, 2 Average Lovers, and a Woman’s Search for the Meaning of Wife(Simon & Schuster).

A Publisher’s Weekly Summer Favorite and “Today Show” rec, it’s the humorous true story of a couple that sails into the sunset, only to find their relationship sinking. Fortunately, it didn’t.

Janna and Graeme are living happily even after (also the name of her blog) in Seattle, in a house of all things. They’re waiting for the cruising kitty, and their two young daughters, to grow large enough for their next adventure, another cruise across the Pacific.

They sold Dragonfly (a 1973 Hallberg-Rassy) for a faster, leakier Farr 1220 called Kotuku, which they plan to cruise but, in the meantime, Graeme races obsessively.

Watch Janna’s book trailer at www.byjanna.com.

Confessions of a Bad Boat Wife

Serena Li — Fri, 09 Nov 2012 12:44:59 +0000

A year ago, I went to a girl’s night out with some women at a local marina. Over dinner and a glass of wine, one of the gals confessed, “I really wanted to be a good boat wife this summer when I wasn’t in school. You know, like pack his lunch and make him coffee. All the things he does for me during the school year. But I just can’t get it together!”

We had a good laugh, but I knew deep inside how she felt. Even though I was relatively new to the boating world, I already had a picture in my mind of what a perfect boat wife is.

The perfect boat wife

The perfect boat wife is a strong sailor, a first mate who can support the captain or even be the captain.
She can roll up her sleeves and help with the engine or service the winches.
She takes care of the kids, births them on the boat, potty trains them by 18 months, does all the laundry by hand, and cooks yummy food while the boat heels.
She bakes bread, makes Playdough, and homeschools, all while helping the captain with navigation.
And she radiates positive energy while doing all this.

The truth is, I’m of no use with the diesel engine, my seamanship and navigation skills needs improvement, I don’t cook enough or do meal planning, and the pressure cooker intimidates me.

I have been known to talk back to the captain. I’m also prone to the grumps, and I’m not particularly tough.

Many times, I’ve had to abandon cooking a meal while my toddler’s whines escalates into ear-shattering screams. On a good day I can squeeze in a load of laundry or wash a sinkful of the dishes. My days sailing are spent getting snacks, reading stories, pottying the kids, and refilling drinks. I’m a flight attendant to two demanding first class passengers! By the time evening comes I’m dismayed at how little I get done, and yet I feel so tired!

(Lest you decry, “Pink and blue!”—before cruising, I was the primary breadwinner and my husband was the stay-at-home dad and homemaker.)

Parenting: The kids “potty” their dolls overboard while sailing

…or tuck them into their “carriers”/tethers.

No, I am no model boat wife.

But how many of us can truly do it all? Isn’t it the same Superwoman complex carried over from our go-go days?

It became clear to me that no matter where we are in life, we as women seem to be haunted by the “perfect” (fill in the blank). For the stay at home mom, it’s the homebirthing, homesteading, book writing, crafty mama of six. For working moms, it’s the successful executive who manages to juggle three kids, a successful career and finds the time to go telemark skiiing. No matter who we are, there’s always someone out there, real or imagined, who seems to have it more together than us.

One wise woman observed that all this comparison simply distracts us from our own work, our own journey.

Cruising has taught me about letting go.

Letting go of the unnecessary. The things that hold me back.

And it was only when I let go of the perfect boat wife that I was able to enjoy cruising more. Here are some of the lessons I learned along the way:

Prioritize. Someone once said that cruising life is 9x less efficient: 3x because of the kids and 3x because of the boat. You learn to do what’s important and let go of the rest. We cruise to be close to our children. While they are tiny, we decided to accommodate them as much as possible. It means going painfully slow and waiting for the right wind and seas. It means finding crew if necessary. It means spending the time to comfort them if they are clingy.

Intra-Coastal Waterway Lock. Some days the kids need a bit more attention.

Decide when to step up. My partner and I decided ahead of time when the kids’ needs take second place for safety reasons. Usually it’s when we are entering and leaving a harbor and changing sails. I buckle them into their seats and let them know that it is quiet time.

Remember the big picture. I remind myself that in the past, I have been that ideal partner. Together, my partner and I have gutted and remodeled part of our house. I tiled and painted and helped with wiring. The time will come when I can help more. This season with tiny children is short.

I focus on what I can do. I try to give the kids a secure base of support. I can sew canvas and paint. I can be a sounding board for my spouse. I can mine our network for information and resources. And I am the safety officer to the captain when he gets carried away.

Cutting slack. I try to cut the captain some slack when he’s tired and cranky from planning, navigating, cooking, schlepping fresh water, driving the dinghy, etc.

Cruising isn’t about attempting to do it all or bringing the super woman mindset on board. It’s the paring down to the essentials, about doing your best, and growing into your potential.

Outer Banks, NC. Happy days on the water.

Four months into cruising, things have gradually improved. I’m able to orchestrate a daily rhythm for the kids, plan a menu, make snacks, and cook lunch. Some days I’m even organized enough to toss out a surprise treat or activity right as we are about to anchor.

I think to myself, someday I might have a shot at this “good boat wife” gig.

Someday.

About Serena Li

My husband and I, along with our two young children, shortened our “five-to-ten year cruising plan” to one and a half years.

We left Boston in June 2012 and began cruising down the east coast of the U.S. aboard WILDEST DREAM, a Contest 32CS ketch.

We are headed for the turquoise waters of the Bahamas. Come aboard and follow our family cruising adventures at tigandserena.com

What do women like most about sailing their boats?

Karen Bergman — Mon, 10 Sep 2012 16:00:18 +0000

Two years ago I started a little project where I talked to other women on sailboats about their sailing life. I only started sailing/cruising in 2007 with my spouse and soon realized it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. I could either quit or try to find out what would make me happy. So I set myself a project to talk to other women.

Why? To find a way to make sailing my own adventure. To bring who I am to my sailing adventure. To have a reason to talk to people and a reason to write. To find out from other women how they make sailing their own adventure as opposed to going along on their husband’s/boyfriend’s sailing adventure. I was hoping I’ll find some good ideas I’ll take for my own.

What do women like most about sailing their boats?

Adventure.

Cliff jumping into Dean’s Blue Hole, Long Island, Bahamas

In one word it’s for the adventure. Or possibility of adventure. I find it ironic, though, because a sailboat is a lot of work. Work that can be frustrating, mundane, expensive. Not a lot of adventure in that. Work isn’t adventurous at home and it isn’t adventurous at sea! And the woman’s part in the work is, not surprisingly, often the traditional female role – provisioning, cooking, cleaning, laundry. At least that’s my view based on the women I’ve met. Granted, they are usually about my age and in similar circumstances so it’s not surprising their boat roles would be quite similar to mine. However, enough about roles.

Adventure includes living outdoors, traveling to new places, learning about local history and culture. For one friend it includes “going through a raging storm”. She said this with a glow in her eyes and her words and the look on her face have stuck with me. What could she be thinking? Why a storm? Storms at sea are scary and dangerous. Maybe that’s exactly what she wants – fear and danger. To pit herself against the elements and see what she’s made of.

I’m thinking of Maureen Blyth (Innocent Aboard) and her months long sailing adventure with her husband, Chay in the 1960’s sailing from South Africa back to England. She wrote that she gained insight into her husband’s compulsion to undertake extreme adventures. I wonder now if her experience led her to chase extreme adventure for her own ends or was she satisfied to taste adventure as a means to understanding her own husband.

Back to my friend in the boatyard refurbishing her boat with the hopes of experiencing a raging storm at sea. I picture her working day after day stripping and sanding the floorboards in the boat she and her husband are rebuilding. A boat damaged in a hurricane and written off. She’s slim, blond and has kind eyes. Her image doesn’t, to me fit with someone chasing danger and fear in a sea storm. Shame on me. Do only big burly males get to chase danger and fear? Are girls too frail? Or only certain types of girls too frail?

There are other reasons women sail, of course.

To see different places, experience other cultures. To hike new lands. As one woman put it, life is “real” on a boat. You’re just you. You don’t have to be what anyone else expects you to be. She also said it’s a means to an end and that end is travel. When she met her future sailing husband she knew she was a marrying the lifestyle she wanted. A traveling lifestyle suited to her curiosity.

While we’ve mostly cruised in the Bahamas, there is still lots of variety and new experiences which helps keep me interested in cruising. Bahamas sailing sloop in the Easter Regatta at Long Island in 2009.

A young, single woman on a sailing adventure with her grandfather claimed freedom as her reason for sailing. Being able to do what she wants. Unique to her, because of her age, sailing allows her the freedom to think about her future. She has big life decisions to make at her age. What will she study at school? What career should she pursue? Or can she have more than one career and in what order? (I didn’t ask her if the tides swept in answers to her.)

Sailing feels normal to her, she says. Her first adventure at sea was in Croatia when she was fifteen. And indeed she seemed at home on the water. Very natural. Several times I watched her from a distance as she manned the helm while her grandfather dropped the anchor in the same anchorage as us. At a 500 metre or more distance her strength and agility were apparent as she sheeted (pulled) in the sails to bring the boat to a stop. (They rarely turned on their engine, so proficient – and patient – they were as sailors committed to the wind power only philosophy.) When later she rowed her dinghy (again, no motor) to visit our boat she looked a vision of strong, lithe, and confident woman power.

(When I got to know her better she let me know she would prefer an outboard on the dinghy. Rowing only was too confining. Motorized travel would open up many more possibilities. Indeed, she sometimes felt like the sailboat was a prison because she often couldn’t get to places she wanted to get to for, for example, snorkelling, town trips, or to visit newly made friends.)

The outdoor, self-sufficient lifestyle ranks highest in my reasons to sail.

My husband Dwight on our day adventure kayaking across Shroud Key, Bahamas. We have 2 sea kayaks on board. My kayak is key to my cruising experience. It gives me freedom to have my own adventures doing something that I love to do – paddling.

It’s a continuation of my past experiences paddling, camping, hiking, back country skiing and the profound personal meaning I found in those adventures. It was the inner journey of testing my strength and finding out if I measured up. Digging in deeper if more courage, patience, perseverance, calmness, or ability was required. Coming up with an inventive solution to a problem whether it was cooking a meal when a key ingredient hadn’t been packed or escaping a flooding river.

It was also putting myself in places where nature’s intense beauty could not be missed. Where natural beauty seeped inside me and shifted the contours of my thoughts, feelings and attitudes into more pleasing shapes and there was more room for wonder.

You know, though, my sailing doesn’t really have those features – or at least very strongly. I can recount very few times this trip when I’ve been awed by a sky or sea scape. I’m in this boat – now one with a cockpit enclosure – and screened off somewhat from the natural landscape we pass through. Plus, the focus is so much on maintaining, cleaning and fixing the boat that there is a danger of the boat becoming the landscape rather than the boat being the vehicle to experience landscape.

WILD ROSE goes in the water at St. Augustine, Florida. February, 2010. This was our second sailboat, a 42 ft Brewer. We bought her in 2010, worked on her in the boat yard for 2 months, then sailed her to the Bahamas and back.

And as for self-sufficiency I’m predominantly subject to the decisions of a vastly more experienced and proficient captain. Mostly I seem to myself as if I’m more of a burden and frustration than someone who is carrying their own weight. I’m far from self-sufficient out here. In fact, it seems like I struggle to have my own mind! Yes, there are many things I need to be told – sometimes more than a couple times – but I remain sceptical that so much and vehement telling is absolutely required!

I hold out hope that I will be more self-sufficient as time goes by. On board the sailboat I have my kayak. When we’re at anchor I can paddle my kayak – a yellow Ocean Kayak, the Caper model. I lower it into the water, climb precariously atop (it’s a sit on), grab the lovely lightweight paddle with both hands and paddle where I want to go. I’m my own master propelling myself under my own steam to whatever destination strikes my fancy. My kayak will stay part of my reason for sailing.

Snorkeling is also part of why I sail. Water is the First World is the title of a book of poems my sister gave to me. It’s about birthing and motherhood but I think of it in the watery world of sailing and snorkelling. Underwater is primal, beautiful, foreign and it knocks me off centre. Under water I feel vulnerable. Currents and wave action push and pull me without any regard that I exist. I’m just more flotsam and jetsom. I brush up against things without realizing I’m that close. My sense of myself in relation to things in my watery world is so underdeveloped at the beginning of our sailing adventures that I’m like a baby. I startle easily. I apologize when I bump into things. Unlike on land, things can come at you from all four directions with equal probability. I wish for eyes in the back of my head, my stomach and my back. Then I could see what’s coming.

I spear my first lobster.

As R. said, on a boat it’s just “you” without the expectations and roles that define us on land. That reason holds true for me, too, however, I’m finding this boat brings with it some roles and expectations that are chafing me considerably and consistently. What will I find out about myself as I try – in my way – to come to terms with it? Is this where the digging deeper for more perseverance, skill, strength and a creative solution comes in?

What I don’t like about my sailboat

Last night the wind gusted several squalls our way. With boat hatches and port lights fastened down against the rain I had no choice but to turn the noisy fan above my head in the aft cabin. I did not like my sailboat during these hours. I longed to be in a tent in the shelter of the trees on shore. A tent would have kept me dry and cool. It would not creak, groan and clank as boat does as it – and its contents – roll from side to side in the swells that come with windy weather.

A list of what I don’t like about my sailboat formed easily in my head, whipped on by the frustration I felt:

We spend a lot of time and money lugging this boat from place to place then it “turns” on us, becomes this hot, noisy monster.
The boat keeps me inside! Separate from the natural landscapes and sensations that I long to feel. (OK, sometimes the shelter of a boat is a good thing.)
The boat keeps me more sedentary than I want to be. It’s harder to get exercise, especially when we’re on passages.
The boat has way too many motors. All noisy and smelly. The noise keeps me separate from the natural landscapes and sensations.
The electricity, running fresh water, refrigeration, lights, navigational aids are high on our list of appealing boat features. Then the reality of the price they exact becomes apparent almost too late. The boat demands more of us to keep these amenities operating.
Way too much talking about boats and cruising experiences with others who are too much the same as me. Where is the experiencing other cultures?

I begin to wonder if we’re sailing the boat or the boat is sailing us?

I end this section with a question for myself:
Why do I sail?

A caricature of me my
former colleagues gave to me when I retired last year. Sailing /cruising seems so exotic to those who haven’t
done it.

About Karen Bergman

I was born and raised in southern Alberta, Canada. For over 22 years I lived in Canada’s Arctic where my children were born and raised. My first adventure on the ocean was in an open boat to fish and hunt seals. In early spring we travelled on the frozen ice by snowmobile and komatik (a sled with runners). (No, we didn’t live in igloos! And, yes, we had electricity and running water.)

When I was young, I had romantic dreams about sailing around the world. I didn’t really think about how that would work given I get motion sick on a swing. My first adventure on a sail boat in 2007 saw us traveling around the Florida panhandle in a 32 foot Pearson, Island Breezes. I remember the heat, nausea, lightning storms and a water spout bearing down on us when our motor was disabled. Our max speed was 1 knot. I was terrified.

And unimpressed by the whole thing. I thought there had to be more to this cruising life. Next year we cruised in the Bahamas. That was more like it and I found enough in it to stick with cruising. We’ve been back to the Bahamas several times and also cruised (as crew on another boat) in south and central America. Currently, our cruising platform is m/v Popeye, a 42 foot Tolleycraft.

I retired from a wonderful public service career in 2011. I live now in southern British Columbia, Canada with my partner Dwight on 5 acres of solid land with mountains, lakes and rivers nearby. Between us, we own 9 boats, including the canoe and kayaks. I have three children and two granddaughters.

I’ve just started blogging again: Karen Blogs Again.

6 Mistakes men make in sharing their sailing passion (Lessons I learned the hard way)

Nick O'Kelly — Sat, 03 Jul 2010 16:44:11 +0000

On even the most perfect weekend afternoon, we see only a handful of empty slips; most boats jostle restlessly in place like drunken tombstones.

Smart, motivated, and capable people own these craft: doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs, craftsmen, teachers, engineers, etc.

They’ve sacrificed and saved and dedicated significant resources for years to buy, berth, and maintain their boats, yet barely use (90% leave their slip less than six times per year) them and very, very few actually end up out there living The Cruising Dream.

Why? Not enough time? Life too crazy? Priorities changed? Out of money? I don’t buy it.

No, the real reason is that she is not on board.

While the registration may indicate joint ownership, this is most often (yes, there are many exceptions) his dream and this is his boat. You can bet that if she shared his enthusiasm, motivation, and The Cruising Dream, the boat would leave the slip more often and travel further.

So why isn’t she on board with The Dream?

Here are the top 6 mistakes (there are plenty more) men make in sharing their sailing passion with the most important person in their life and the real reason the boat sits unused in its slip.

Getting ready to depart San Diego in 2003. Having every luxury, toy, and piece of “required” equipment on a complicated boat means endless organizing.

1. Buying a boat to “get her into sailing”

Unless he is an extraordinarily competent captain and gifted teacher, she gets the wrong first impressions about sailing and never recovers. It doesn’t take many mini-crises and raised voices to decide at a deep level that “this isn’t fun.”

2. Selling her on a brochure

Many a sales pitch involves promises of white sandy beach and crystal-clear blue water. Yes, you’ll find plenty of postcard-perfect destinations and endless free time out cruising, but often these expectations are not sufficient to sustain the sacrifice required. Because preparations usually take years, many women decide that the ends don’t justify the means. “I’ll fly there, thank you…” Additionally, a “long vacation” aboard your own boat is not representative of the cruising lifestyle, and when and if expectations are not met, she decides that life ashore is more attractive.

3. Using guilt or bullying tactics to convince her to go cruising

To get the hesitant or resistant wife on board, we men (forever little boys at heart) sometimes resort to juvenile yet powerful and manipulative tactics to convince our wives that we “hard-working” and committed husbands deserve their support; that she, “owes this to us.”

If she has been persuaded or forced to follow his dream without buying into the dream itself, she won’t ever take responsibility for the decision to go. When times get tough-and they always do-he is back in the convincing and manipulating business, which eventually fails.

“I read more books in seven months than I had in the past 17 years.”

4. Relegating her to passenger

Men who’ve bullied, used guilt, or otherwise convinced their wives to sacrifice their life ashore for his dream subsequently carry their own guilt and feel responsible for her comfort.

She appreciates him doing all the work and taking all responsibility in the beginning, but unless she participates and owns this endeavor, she gets bored.

Boredom is the single biggest threat to the cruising dream – more lethal than any storm.

5. He lacks general competence and confidence with a large or complicated boat

Every luxury aboard Low Pressure, but the work [literally] never ends.

Cruising is not rocket science – most people can learn the basic skills: navigation, anchoring, sail handling, etc. in a relatively short period of time.

Maintaining the boat is something altogether different. In his effort to assuage his guilt and make her comfortable, he equips the boat with every possible convenience but lacks the skills to operate and maintain these systems. New or old, things break aboard a cruising boat and he turns cruising into “fixing the boat in exotic locations.”

While he is upside-down fumbling with another hack repair or pouring through manuals, she is frustrated that the two of you aren’t strolling that white sandy beach or swimming in the crystal-clear blue water.

6. Going “all-in”

It may occasionally work at the poker table, but committing every resource to cruising (a lifestyle that hopeful cruisers have no experience with) is a gamble that women (in general) are much less comfortable making than men.

Studies have shown time and again that while women are only slightly more risk-averse than men, they are much more ambiguity averse. While men are eager to head off for whatever adventure may come, women are much less comfortable with an unknown and unknowable future. “Selling it all” for The Dream neglects a reality that women wisely hold firm: almost everyone does eventually come back.

Some dreams die a quick death and never leave their local waters while others run hard onto the rocks at some sun-bleached downwind destination, but the reasons (aside from uncontrollable life circumstances) are always the same: expectations are not reached, the crew fails to learn to work together, and/or the stress of the difficult times outweighs the joy of the good.

To avoid these uncharted hazards, it’s critical that:

1. Both of you share The Cruising Dream BEFORE the cruising boat is purchased.

The financial commitment is second only to a home purchase for most couples and both materially and symbolically represents the foundation for buying into The Dream.

Our dog “Sugar” keeps us from taking any of this too seriously on the second cruise.

2. Cruising is not simply an activity or experience, a passage or a destination; it’s a lifestyle.

The two of you must share the values embodied in that lifestyle before deciding to live The Dream: time and freedom over money and comfort, self-sufficiency over dependence, efficiency over waste, etc.

3. The relationship must be on stable footing to begin with.

Cruising will galvanize a healthy relationship but ruin a tenuous one. Communication must be equal, healthy and unrestricted.

“Traditional” 1950′s stereotypes revolt both of us, yet “pink” and “blue” jobs naturally evolve on board. Megan’s skills were invaluable on both cruises.

4. You share equal involvement and responsibility.

Yes, “pink and blue” jobs will likely evolve naturally, but both of you must be capable of operating the boat alone. Competence = confidence = less stress. Learning [separately] from a professional instructor is money well spent.

5. One of you must be mechanically talented and proficient with every aspect of the boat.

Preferably, the cruising boat is very simple easy to maintain.

6. Have a global or holistic plan for the cruise and after the cruise.

You likely won’t stick to it, but agreeing on it in advance underpins the shared commitment. Additionally, it’s important to have a relief valve – have a fallback plan in place that doesn’t involve living in a storage unit. This restores a sense of freedom and choice which all human beings need to live a happy and fulfilled life.

I learned all of these lessons the hard way.

Our first cruise ended less than a year into our five year plan.

Freedom! Anticipation and expectations before jumping into the unknown from Catalina Island in 2003.

I begged, cajoled, and convinced my wife to sell it all for endless fun in the tropical breeze, but that first cruise ended less than a year into our five year plan.

We sold our big, comfortable and complicated boat at a huge loss when expectations weren’t met and the hard times outweighed the good.

My wife swore, “I’m never buying another f*cking boat.”

We moved on with our lives. It took some time, but in the following years, I stopped badgering her about boats, lovely destinations, and going cruising again. Instead, together we slowly changed our values, shifting our focus from material wealth and accomplishment to time, presence, and health. Our relationship grew, matured, and deepened.

A smaller, simpler boat means less work and more play.

Eventually we started talking about taking a sabbatical from our businesses. A few months in India? An RV trip to Central America? Cycling across the US?

Together we agreed that a smaller, simpler boat for a shorter, less fully committed itinerary made sense for the life that we wanted to live.

We made a plan, had several fallback contingencies, and picked out the right boat together.

We had a wonderful second cruise.

The boat was simple and easy to handle and both of us were capable and confident single-handing.

Balance, in both life ashore and at sea. Sausalito, California in 2010.

Our itinerary was flexible and neither of us ever felt our freedom restricted by the other. Instead of doing maintenance, we enjoyed the destinations. The experience left us wanting more.

It’s so easy to forget that The Cruising Dream is not powered by boats, equipment, or destinations, but rather the dreamers themselves.

Making sure that the two of you in a loving relationship (that’s the reality of who you really find out there) are in tip-top seaworthy condition should be your number-one priority.

About Nick O’Kelly

Nick O’Kelly is an entrepreneur, photographer, writer and Associated Press Award winning journalist living in Sausalito, California. His work has appeared on NBC and ABC television and USA Today.

His recent book GET HER ON BOARD – Secrets to Sharing The Cruising Dream is available at www.getheronboard.com, Amazon.com, as well as Barnes and Noble.

More info (external links)

Visit the Get Her On Board website

What advice do you have for men (or women) who want their partner to share their cruising dream?

Let us know.

Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.

Get Her On Board (Secrets to Sharing the Cruising Dream)

Gwen Hamlin — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 19:41:52 +0000

Through a sequence of connections it would take a page to recount, I’ve come back in touch with a cruiser I first met in a group of West Coast sailors getting ready to leave for the South Pacific from Puerto Vallarta back in 2003.

A series of maintenance problems cropped up and kept Nick and his wife from departing with the rest of us.

The fallout from those problems and the disappointment at the interruption ended up unraveling their cruising plan to the point that they sold the boat and got out.

That was almost six years ago.

What went wrong for them….and how did they fix it?

Nick has since spent a lot of time thinking this all through and realized most if all of it came back on him. With the clarity of hindsight, Nick picked through the debris of his dream and identified a whole series of mistakes that he made that he has since discovered are made rather blithely by many men whose dreams are still tied to the dock.

Out of this excavation, Nick has shaped a whole new strategy for men who want to take off cruising and have their wives come willingly with them. It’s based on the revolutionary idea that it’s the men who have to do some self-examination and adaptive thinking, even projection into their wives’ point on view….in a word change!

The book that resulted from this effort – GET HER ON BOARD – is an amazingly holistic approach to bringing the cruising dream to fruition. Written in a style that should communicate well to men, Nick is surprised that sales demographics suggest that many of his book’s buyers are women!

I read GET HER ON BOARD and thought aHah! “How do I get Don to read this!” This is not just for men trying to figure out how to get their partners to buy into their dream, it should be read by every man who wants a fuller richer life with the women they’ve pledged their lives to. And if they end up getting the dream off the dock and pointed toward a distant horizon, all the better.

Next week on the Women and Cruising blog: 6 Mistakes men make in sharing their sailing passion (Lessons I learned the hard way), a guest post by Nick O’Kelly.We invited Nick to compose a post for Women and Cruising not only because we suspect we have plenty of male readers trying to figure out what their women need to make the cruising dream work, but because we suspect there are plenty of women readers who’d like to help their guys find a way to make it work better for both of them.

More info (external links)

“GET HER ON BOARD – Secrets to Sharing The Cruising Dream” is available at www.getheronboard.com, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble.
Visit the “Get Her On Board” blog

Boat jobs: Pink or Blue? …Violet, Meri says

Meri Faulkner — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 11:13:20 +0000

In April, Betsy Morris wrote about the division of boat jobs aboard Salsa (Boat jobs: Pink or Blue? Betsy Morris’ Confession). She wondered how other cruising couples divided up the jobs and whether they were happy with the result. Marcie Lynn commented here. Following is Meri Faulkner’s response.

I have considered myself ‘pink’ where the boat chore distribution is concerned, and my husband, Jim,‘blue’. I am responsible aboard Hotspur for much of what I was responsible for back home on land: grocery shopping, laundry, cooking, cleaning, bill paying, sewing, etc…

However, I got to thinking about your article and it dawned on me… not all my jobs are ‘pink’.

I think I might fall into the category of ‘violet’.

For example, you might call me the ship’s Communication Officer. This could be construed as ‘pink’ because it requires talking, but this job falls to me because I have decent Spanish speaking skills. We have been cruising Mexico since June 2008.

I also take charge of the radio communications and acquired the general license for the HAM radio. I often volunteer for net control positions when there is a need so that we, as well as other cruisers, get accurate and detailed weather reports for our area.

In addition to communication, you might call me the ship’s Medical Examiner. We have had sting ray wounds, scorpion welts, cuts and lacerations, rashes, fevers, and fungus. And just a few days ago, I assisted another cruiser in giving her son 6 stitches in a gaping wound on his foot. And no… I was not in the medical profession prior to cruising! But, boy… do I have experience now!

I have taken apart the Barient winches and cleaned, greased/oiled and put them back together.

I help clean the bottom of the boat, I sand, varnish, and paint.

And, I also clean the fish we catch.

Our children are aboard, as well… our son, Tim, is almost 15 and our daughter, Carolyne, is 10. It’s funny because we are raising them on the boat to be ‘violet’, too.

Since Tim is interested in both the workings of the engine and the galley, Jim and I have our son in charge of cleaning and maintaining the outboard engines and he occasionally cooks several very good dishes in the galley. He also helps with night watches when we have crossings.

Carolyne has less adult-like chores than Tim, but she is responsible for helping with laundry, provisioning, proper trash disposal, feeding the pets aboard, cleaning the bottom of the boat when it grows grass, polishing the stainless, etc…

Have I ever changed the oil… never.

I’m afraid if I do, that will be one of my ‘violet’ jobs, too!

About Meri Faulkner

I live on a 41′ Tartan TOCK we call Hotspur and my family and I have been cruising Mexico since since we left Colorado in June 2008.

I love cruising so much that my husband and I are committed to doing it as long as we can. We plan to spend another summer in the Sea of Cortez, which we love, and after hurricane season we aspire to head to El Salvador for the beginning of our Central American tour.

Our two swabs and children, Tim (14), and daughter, Carolyne (10), are aboard, too! Other scallywags include our 13 year old pound-puppy, Bailey, and Bad Kitty, our Mazatlan stray cat.

Come visit Hotspur and follow our family cruising adventures at www.expaticus.com.

Boat jobs: Pink or Blue? Marcie Lynn comments

Marcie Connelly-Lynn — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 20:45:28 +0000

I enjoyed reading Betsy’s article, but I guess I never had delusions (or was desirous) of being able to do all the “blue” chores that David does aboard Nine of Cups.

He’s an engineer and I was VP of marketing for a medical company. The difference in being on land versus afloat is that anything I needed to get done on land, I could hire someone to do. While at sea, it’s life critical to be able to handle everything yourself.

As an engineer, David sees problems at sea as challenges.

Rudder post sheared off in the middle of the Carib? He fabricated a part that got us to Colon.

Autopilot gone awry in the middle of the Pacific and the spare crapped out, too? He jury-rigged the two systems to make it to Chile.

Dinghy pontoon slashed and the MEK adhesive catalyst has evaporated? He’s your man for figuring out how to fabricate a clamshell patch that got us through the anchorages of Patagonia, 1000 miles from nowhere.

From a safety perspective, I’m confident I could get the boat to safety if something happened to David while we were at sea. Extraordinary circumstances call for extraordinary actions.

On a regular basis, however, we divide up tasks as we always have. We started and ran our own medical electronics company for over a decade. He designed and manufactured the instrumentation; I marketed and sold it, did the accounting and human resources and helped with manufacturing and shipping.

We’ve always had a division of labor in our work and family lives that used our specific talents and we’re comfortable with it and appreciate each other’s fortes.

Being aboard the boat is no different.

Why hoist me up the mast if I don’t know how to install/repair the mast light once I’m up there?

Can I provision for 6 months? Absolutely…with a spreadsheet, no less.

Do I cook, clean, sew, mend sails, write, keep up the website, maintain communications, document our travels, file our taxes, entertain guests, service the winches (oops…that sounds blue, but I do it), stand watch, varnish, research and plan our trips, navigate…yup.

It’s what I’m good at and also part of keeping us “happily” afloat.

About Marcie Lynn

As liveaboards since 2000, Marcie Lynn and her husband, David, have traveled over 50,000 miles to date aboard their Liberty cutter, NINE OF CUPS, visited 27 countries and are 9 years into a 15+ year circumnavigation. Ports of call have included many ports off the beaten path, some close to home and some very remote. Marcie readily admits that traveling is key to her interest in sailing.

Born in Massachusetts, Marcie never set foot on a sailboat until 16 years ago. Along with her husband, David, she took sailing classes, read lots and then bareboat chartered and soon the sailing bug bit them hard. In 2000, they both quit their jobs, sold everything and bought NINE OF CUPS. She’s (almost) never regretted their decision (there are those days).

Marcie’s marketing background led her to a keen interest in writing and photography. She maintains a web site, an extensive photo-journal, writes frequently for the Seven Seas Cruising Association (SSCA) and has published several articles. She especially loves sharing her experiences and travels with others who share similar interests.

More info (external links)

How do you divvy up the boat chores?
Does it fall along pink and blue lines?
Let us know.
Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.

I am not an Admiral!

Livia Gilstrap — Thu, 27 May 2010 16:04:03 +0000

I am not an Admiral. I am a co-captain, a sailor, a cruiser, a wife, and sometimes a wench, but I am not an Admiral.

The word is a title of importance. It denotes authority, oversight and ultimate responsibility for a fleet.

The term has historical context which also imbues it with power. There are many Admirals in the sailing community who were pioneers simply because they, as women, left home and hearth for the open sea.

These are Admirals whose vivid accounts allowed me to be able to picture myself at sea, whose articles I have read as a dreamer while preparing to cruise, and I owe them a debt of gratitude. Lin Pardey called herself the “paperwork captain” and it is difficult to think of a better more burly cruising role model.

So what is it about being called “the Admiral” that rubs so many female cruisers the wrong way?

Aerial photo of me single handing

I know that for me it is not because I stand in judgment of others who proudly call themselves Admiral. Not every crew member needs to play captain. I respect the dynamics that other couples find effective for them. I think that it is important to be comfortable with where and who you are regardless of how other people view things.

If the man in a cruising couple is the captain and the woman fills the first mate or Admiral role, the real test of whether it works is whether they are able to happily continue cruising. If so, by definition it works for them and nothing anyone else says matters.

My feelings about being called an Admiral are also not solely a rejection of the gender roles that have become intrinsically connected to the term in the cruising community.

I have no problem doing “pink” jobs. I love to cook, and I am the one who keeps (at least vague) track of what provisions we have on the boat. When a bolt refuses to come off or something particularly heavy needs to be hauled, I look to my husband because he is physically stronger.

We do not try to split things 50-50 in some artificial egalitarian manner and instead work to our strengths. I chose the place mats and curtains and also perform much of the engine maintenance. My husband is the master of all things electrical, all things rigging and makes beautiful crepes. We both truly love sailing.

What I reject about being called an Admiral is the assumption that because I have ovaries I am one. Like most of the cruising breed, male or female, what I resist is being placed inside a box, to be limited.

Of course, ultimately, no one can place me in a box if I do not choose to be placed and that is why when someone says:

“And you must be the Admiral.”

I smile and with a wink and a nudge say: “Actually, that is the Reverend Doctor Captain Livia to you“.

About Livia Gilstrap

Livia found the transition from full time work as a professor to full time work preparing a boat to cruise frighteningly easy but sorely misses having minions.

In 18 days, she begins her own cruise with her husband Carol aboard their 35′ Wauquiez Pretorien Estrellita and she hopes her transition to full time cruising will be as smooth. You can read more about that unfolding adventure on their cruising blog.

After 14 years of the empirical study of human behavior, Livia couldn’t seem to stop collecting data and has founded a new resource for dreamers, those actively preparing to cruise, and cruisers themselves called The Interview With A Cruiser Project. Every week she publishes a 10 question interview with someone who has cruised outside of their home country for more than two years. Read the interviews, volunteer to be interviewed or suggest interviewees at the website.

She is a regular reader and admirer of Gwen Hamlin’s “The Admiral’s Angle” and will be publishing an interview with Gwen on the IWAC site on June 28th, 2010.

More information

Livia’s project: Interview With A Cruiser

What labels or titles define your role for you on your boat? Leave a comment below or email us: kathy@forcruisers.com

The Interview With A Cruiser Project

Blog » Relationships & Roles Aboard

My first time on a sailing boat – or why women don’t want to go sailing with their husbands

How it all began

What’s not to like?

The list

I’m not alone

A man and his boat

Adjusting to sailing life

How do you get your wife on board?

Sailing again

About Signe Storr

More from this website

Balance of power … afloat

Am I the only one who finds this cringe-worthy?

Perfect power balance in a relationship can cause its own set of challenges as great as those caused by imbalance.

Five principles keep our sailing smooth.

Of course, not all our tips would work for everyone, depending on where they started from, sailing skill level and interest, and relationship dynamics. Hopefully, though, they’ll provide a starting point for conversations that can help minimize conflict.

About Jaye Lunsford

More from this website

Sailing as a Metaphor for Marriage

About Janna Cawrse Esarey

Confessions of a Bad Boat Wife

The perfect boat wife

No, I am no model boat wife.

Cruising has taught me about letting go.

About Serena Li

Read also on this website

What do women like most about sailing their boats?

What do women like most about sailing their boats?

Adventure.

There are other reasons women sail, of course.

The outdoor, self-sufficient lifestyle ranks highest in my reasons to sail.

What I don’t like about my sailboat

I end this section with a question for myself: Why do I sail?

About Karen Bergman

Read also on this website

6 Mistakes men make in sharing their sailing passion (Lessons I learned the hard way)

So why isn’t she on board with The Dream?

1. Buying a boat to “get her into sailing”

2. Selling her on a brochure

3. Using guilt or bullying tactics to convince her to go cruising

4. Relegating her to passenger

5. He lacks general competence and confidence with a large or complicated boat

6. Going “all-in”

To avoid these uncharted hazards, it’s critical that:

1. Both of you share The Cruising Dream BEFORE the cruising boat is purchased.

2. Cruising is not simply an activity or experience, a passage or a destination; it’s a lifestyle.

3. The relationship must be on stable footing to begin with.

4. You share equal involvement and responsibility.

5. One of you must be mechanically talented and proficient with every aspect of the boat.

6. Have a global or holistic plan for the cruise and after the cruise.

I learned all of these lessons the hard way.

Our first cruise ended less than a year into our five year plan.

We had a wonderful second cruise.

About Nick O’Kelly

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Get Her On Board (Secrets to Sharing the Cruising Dream)

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Boat jobs: Pink or Blue? …Violet, Meri says

About Meri Faulkner

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Boat jobs: Pink or Blue? Marcie Lynn comments

About Marcie Lynn

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I am not an Admiral!

About Livia Gilstrap

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I end this section with a question for myself:
Why do I sail?