It’s the second-to-last day of February and I find myself sitting behind the computer thinking, “Wow, what an awesome month it has been.”
Winter in rural Alaska continues to inspire and captivate at every turn, and living here through the offseason has been far more rewarding than we could have imagined. But even though we’ve enjoyed all sorts of outdoor wonders this month, our crews’ current enthusiasm is rooted on Yahtzee. I guess that’s what finishing some big projects and hanging with sailing friends will do to the winter psyche. Also, it doesn’t hurt that the amount of daylight here is growing in leaps and bounds.
After triumphantly finishing the headliner earlier in the month, we made our way north to meet friends for some skiing and snowboarding in Girdwood. Ryan and Autumn from SV Velella came up from Seattle for the long weekend and it was truly one of those friend moments you instantly want to repeat again and again.
Skiing and snowboarding at Alyeska was incredible, and showing them around Seward was a ton of fun. But it was mostly refreshing to be around great cruising friends again — it probably didn’t matter where we were. To talk about boats and destinations, dreams and projects, and even to share a few sea stories over laughter, long campfires and hot toddys was perfect. It was hard to say goodbye.
With them headed home, we were back to our normal routines of playing and trying to make headway on boat projects. Like clockwork, our new heater arrived in the mail from Fisheries and that job vaulted to the top of the list. Fortunately, because our old heater was similar, is was mostly a plug-and-play job with just a few small kinks to get worked out.
While I was getting that sorted, our friends from Anchorage came down to spend the weekend and work on their Beneteau 42 Blown Away. They have kids of a similar age so we decided to stay at the marina for the night to have dinner and hang with them. Good times.
They’re relatively new cruisers, which made the fun of the night pulling out charts of the area to talk about routing and anchorages. A two week cruise to Prince William Sound is on their summer schedule, so we got to reminisce about our time there last year.
More than anything, though, it was energizing to be back in the marina aboard boats with friends again. There’s something about the connection that rejuvenates the sailing soul and makes us even more excited to press forward towards our dreams.
A steady rain pitter-patters on the deck above the nav station while I type. Magnus naps in the V-berth and Porter is taking some time to himself after we finished working on reading, writing and making a map of Seward. Jill, well, she’s off at work earning that cheddar to keep everything afloat and to improve our sailing home.
After visiting friends and family in various locales throughout the lower 48, we arrived back in Seward on Monday night. When we dropped down the companionway for the first time in many weeks, we were struck by a couple things. The first for me was that it was great to be home — great to be back in Alaska and on the boat again. I love this place and this boat. And the other feeling was that we couldn’t wait to get going with our life here.
Sure, the air down below was cold and clammy upon our return and a musty odor was pervasive. But the bilge and most of the boat was was dry, and we all couldn’t wait to climb into our bunks after weeks of sometimes restless slumber in foreign beds. We always sleep best at home on the boat.
Jill was off to work the following morning under a brilliant sunshine that illuminated the mountains encircling Seward. For the boys and me, the start to daddy preschool was to move Yahtzee to her assigned slip for the winter, and they stepped right back into boat work and life like the old habit that it is. Watching them on deck brought a smile to my face.
Tucked into her new spot, we plugged into shore power and got the battery charger going. I flung all the hatches and ports open, and with a perfectly crisp breeze the boat was soon aired out. Yahtzee seemed like she was breathing a sigh of relief, happy to have us home too.
Throughout the rest of the week, we fell into our new routine. While Jill was off at work, I took the boys to play time, story time, playgrounds and walks on the beach and waterfront. But I also want them to keep learning by getting their hands dirty and feet wet exploring the incredible natural world around them. So, one day’s lesson was to catch, fillet and freeze salmon for the winter, and the teaching included parts of the fish and how to safely use a filet knife. Also, they got to spray the hose a lot.
The next step for our crew is to start unloading the boat into our winter cabin in the woods. We’ve never felt like we have a lot of things aboard Yahtzee until now. But while taking stock of what we have and need to move off, I’m amazed at what a 40-foot boat can accumulate throughout five years of living aboard and cruising.
Overall, we’re excited for our new chapter and to start in on boat projects — stripping Yahtzee from the inside out, cleaning and working on her. After all the years and thousands of miles she’s safely carried us, she surely deserves the love that we’ve got to give. And we’ve got a lot.
Readers of this blog are well aware that I rarely, if ever, talk about our plans for the future. Instead, we thrive on uncertainty, seize the moment and live within the confines of a cruising world defined by tides, weather and whims of our own devise. All of that, bracketed by a need to work in order to keep us going. In our minds, we’ve always found our nomadic life to be more rewarding when we’re actually out living it than when we’re planning it. Cruising plans and schedules rarely work out as planned and far too many sailors sit at the dock and talk and talk and talk about where they’re sailing, yet never go a mile.
For the crew of Yahtzee, those cruising miles have stopped … for now. By the end of 24 hours we’d paid for a year of moorage in Seward, Alaska, found a quaint winter cabin and, oh yeah, Jill got a job. Wow, that happened fast.
To be sure, it was a whirlwind romance here in Seward. We fell in love with the town when we stopped in a few weeks ago, Jill quickly applied for a couple jobs and when she got callbacks, then interviews and a job offer, we were making decisions and plans faster than we have in years. Literally, it has been three years since we have paid for permanent moorage. Though that’s a hard pill to swallow, the reasons are sound.
Why stop, why here, why now, what about the blog?
Our spring and summer of cruising Alaska has been far more incredible than we ever imagined, and one of the outcomes for us is that we now firmly know this cruising life is for us. We always thought it was, but the farther we went, the farther we wanted to go, and go, and go. And in assessing our future plans we realized that we have to stop now to make money and do some work to the boat before we can take off sailing south to Mexico and beyond. How’s that for sharing plans?!
Of course, the money thing is a big part of this decision, but not our sole reason for stopping. As I said in a recent post, we could keep going with what I make writing and editing from the boat, but we need to pay off debt from last year’s boat work and build up a cruising kitty again to do it right and responsibly.
Career-wise, we also understand that Jill needs to get a job in her field now if she wants to work again — which we’ll need her to do. After months of applying for jobs from Alaska to California, she was finally fortunate to get a couple interviews and a job offer, but potential employers along the way pointed out that her gap in work history was a problem. That said, she’s broken back into the field of social work and we’ll be more careful moving forward to make sure the gap doesn’t get too big. As a friend and fellow cruiser aptly yet half-jokingly quipped, “The machine doesn’t like vagabonds like you because it needs workers to keep it going. And if you’re not one of them, you’re out, and it’s hard to get back in.” That’s reality.
Another reality is that, even though Yahtzee is set to go wherever we need her to take us, after living on her for five years total and cruising full-time for three of those in a damp environment, she needs some love. And the only way to dote on her properly is to move off for some time — which, among other reasons, makes Alaska perfect. On top of cheap moorage, we rented a beautiful, inexpensive cabin in the woods so we can get the boat emptied, dried out and cleaned. Or as Jill perfectly put it, “Because I love this boat and life so much, I can’t wait to get everything off of it.”
That makes the other part of this equation here in Seward absolutely perfect. We’ll be in our rental cabin from October through the end of April and then living on Yahtzee from May through September. That will allow us to focus on working on the inside of the boat during the winter months, and then we can tackle some outside projects once we move back aboard in the spring. Seward has marine professionals we can turn to for help with some of the jobs, and parts are easy to come by.
Overarching throughout all of this is that Alaska is freaking amazing. I’ve fallen madly in love, and Jill’s happy to be home for a while. Whether its winter sports or summer, sailing or fishing, mountains or the sea, when we’re not working or working on Yahtzee, there is plenty to do. And when summer does come, there are numerous anchorages nearby to explore, the Kenai Peninsula is a cruiser’s paradise and Prince William Sound is just a hop away. That’s a win win.
Even though we won’t be cruising full-time for a little while, I’m still planning to keep the blog rolling. I have lots of content that has yet to be shared and I’ll be able to write about some of the projects that we’re starting to outline. We’re excited about what the future holds for our crew and boat here in the great state of Alaska. So stay tuned.
Sitting on a broad, sun-warmed pebble beach, I gazed out at sweeping mountains with glaciers hanging in their valleys. Yahtzee sat just offshore in a sea so clear I could pick out every rock and piece of seagrass below. The boys splashed and swam in the water, jumping in and out, laughing, and I couldn’t help but revel in the moment. It was perfect in so many ways.
When we thought that Southeast Alaska was about as good as it could get, we were wrong. Over the past two plus weeks, Kodiak Island then the Kenai Peninsula and Prince William Sound have upped the ante. Days like these have made us feel as though we’ve shed our Alaska cruiser’s training wheels and are riding blissfully free now, unencumbered with the wind in our hair. Life is here and now.
After landfall in Kodiak City and then spending a week enjoying the fruits of town and a few incredible anchorages, our sights got set farther north towards the Peninsula. With summer at this high latitude (60 degrees north) beginning its unfortunate downward spiral, we decided to keep moving 160 miles to the north to the Seward area and then into Prince William Sound to the east.