Livin' and Learnin'

Someone recently asked me what's it like to live on board our sailboat. It didn’t take long for the answer to form in my mind. “It’s like living in a tiny house,” I said, “only it's tinier and always moving. Plus, there's a chance of drowning.” That ‘chance of drowning’ bit, I admit, was added for flair. Lisa and I are very safe and very comfortable aboard Jo Beth.

Jo Beth in her slip at Brunswick Landing Marina

But make no mistake, the transition from life in a modest brick and mortar house in a nice neighborhood in Savannah, Georgia, to a small and ever moving ‘mobile’ home is a continuous work in progress. There are lots of changes to deal with; some obvious, and some not so obvious. Not only do the physical realities of such a move have to be addressed, but the emotional and mental muscles will be flexed and exercised as well. And once in a while, bruises happen.

The physical aspects of our transition are clearly apparent. Our house in Savannah measured just under 2,000 square feet, and was a considerable downsize from our four bedroom, two and a half bath home with two car garage where we lived in Atlanta. There isn’t the same amount of space. Not even close. We’ve calculated the useable living space aboard Jo Beth – which includes storage spaces in drawers, cabinets, (called ‘lockers’ on a boat), refrigeration and freezer spaces, etc., to be approximately 250 square feet. In the cabin, the actual space where we can stand is probably less than 40 square feet. 

Everything aboard Jo Beth has a home, and there is a home for everything. Clutter can quickly get out of hand, and if we’re sailing can actually become a hazard. It takes lots of energy from both of us to keep the clutter under control. Surprisingly, the worst ‘clutter’ offender is paper. 

Since we’re both still working and aren’t (yet) able to cruise and stay in warmer weather year-round, we need to maintain an inventory of warm and cool weather clothes. We rent a climate controlled storage unit in town and ‘swap’ our clothes with the seasons. The storage locker also serves as an ‘office’ where we store our important records and papers, and holds an inventory of boat equipment, which we either don’t need aboard at the moment or will be selling at upcoming nautical garage sales.

These matters are obvious when it comes to drastically downsizing and living in a small space. However, yacht living is unique. There’s much you don’t ever think about until you’re confronted with having to do something or solve a problem not considered. We’ve been aboard Jo Beth for almost one full year. Here is what has stood out for us:

You’re going to Bump Your Head 

A lot. And your knees, elbows, and ankles. Those of you that know Lisa and I know how short we are – and for those of which we’ve not yet had the pleasure of knowing, we’re short: I’m 5’4” tall, and Lisa is 5’ 2 ¾” tall. Jo Beth’s head room is just over 6’. It’s not the ceiling (called ‘the overhead’, on a boat) height that’s the problem but things like the latches on the windows (called ‘ports’ or ‘portlights’) and the rounded corners of lockers that get us.

You’re going to Knock Things Over

Jo Beth measures 10’ 6” at her widest part, or her ‘beam.’ In the cabin interior, much of that ten and a half feet is reduced by seats, (settees), lockers, and shelves. It’s easy for an elbow to catch a cup of water, a bottle of wine, or whatever…and send it splashing to the cabin sole. (The ‘cabin sole’ is the ‘floor’ in a house.) And in this same vein, things will fall out of lockers when you open them, no matter how carefully and securely they were stowed.

Grocery Shopping is Different

This is mostly because you can only buy groceries for a few days at a time, at least if you want to have meals prepared from fresh and not canned or otherwise preserved ingredients. Our total refrigerator/freezer space is approximately four cubic feet. It’s one box, partitioned by a two piece divider into a freezer side and refrigerator side. Lisa typically assigns items their place inside of the reefer or freezer; she has a knack for seeing things spatially. Sometimes though, despite the best organizational efforts, the nature of the beast wins out. You will still have to empty the reefer to get the butter.

The Reefer/Freezer...

...and a Peek Inside

Food Storage is Different

Well, it is in some ways. Our fresh fruit resides in a hammock hung in the galley over the sink; onions, garlic bulbs, shallots, etc. reside in another hammock strung in the locker behind the trash can. Canned foods, boxed soups, etc. live under the starboard side settee in the main cabin – also called the ‘saloon’ and pronounced ‘salon.’ Crackers are stowed in plastic boxes in the same area. Snack items, like peanuts, pretzels, etc. are stowed in one of the overhead lockers in the galley. Most spices and condiments do well enough, with the exception of salt. There’s not a whole lot that can be done to keep salt from clumping. If you live on a boat which floats in salt water, you’re going to have clumpy salt in your salt grinders or shakers.

Meal Planning and Preparation is Different

Jo Beth is fitted with a three-burner propane stove and oven. Actually, the back burner on the stove is useless because of its proximity to the wooden cabinetry, so we never use it. The stove is on gimbals, so it can swing level when the boat is sailing and heeled; that is to say, pushed over to one side by the force of the wind on the sails. When we want to prepare something in the oven, we have to preheat the oven approximately 200° warmer than is needed, because when the oven door is opened, the temperature drops by approximately that amount. Of course, this makes the cabin much warmer – not so bad in winter, and not so good in the summer! Thus, we tend to prepare ‘cold’ meals in the summer. We have four dinner plates, four small bread plates, six bowls, and six forks, knives, and spoons. Our four stainless steel cook pots nest within one another, and the lid doubles as a skillet. Planning is critical, as the lockers where utensils are stowed requires the cook to reach across the stove; even getting into the reefer or freezer requires one to reach or lean over one corner of the stove. And, when the stove is in use, 90% of the usable counter space disappears with the cover.

The Fruit Hammock

You Become Aware of Resource Consumption

Even though we’re on the dock more often than not these days, all of our water and fuel for cooking is kept aboard the boat. Our electricity is provided from batteries, though we can plug into shore side electrical when we’re in our marina slip. When we’re away from the dock, all we have is what we carry until we can replenish. We’ve become much more aware of how much water we use to wash dishes, how much we use to cook, and even how much we use brushing our teeth. We have to stay alert as to how much electricity we’re using from the batteries, and so on. We have a wind powered generator which can help reduce the load on our batteries when we’re sailing or at anchor, and we can also use the engine to charge them. Still, electricity, water, fuel, etc. are commodities – even at the dock.

Doing Laundry is Different

Or, it might be like it was in your college dorm or first apartment. Gone are the days of separating clothes by dark colors and light colors; of heavy loads or delicate loads. Most marinas have shared laundry facilities and the facilities in our marina are provided as a part of the fees we pay. We get in and get out as a courtesy to other sailors waiting to use the machines. And, your clothes have to be dried until they are dry. Damp clothes brought back to the boat will remain damp. In the worst case, they can become a moldy, smelly, mess.

You’re going to Lose Things

It’s a boat, and a small one at that, right? Where can you possibly lose anything? Trust me, it will happen with regularity, and to all manner of items: earrings, glasses, medicines, and so on. On one short, but rough ocean passage, I could not find a pair of glasses I knew I had put in a locker in the saloon before leaving. When I did find them, after nearly a half hour of scouring the cabin, they were on the other side of the boat and ten feet away from where they had started. You’re going to lose things to Neptune as well. Earlier this year, my cell phone went into the drink when I was removing a towel (hung up to dry!) from one of the railings.

You Become Hyper-Aware of Sounds

People new to boats, especially those spending the night aboard a small boat for the first time, often find the amount of noise surprising, if not unsettling. The ocean is alive and as water is denser than air, it carries sound waves much more efficiently. Almost everyone notices the constant but low ‘rice-crispies-crackling’ sound made by shrimp, crabs, and other small shellfish. The wind in the rigging often makes whistling sounds, and in stormy weather, that whistle can become a roar. Then, there are noises the boat makes – the tinkling of glasses jostling together when the boat rocks in the wind; things in lockers rattling; the groaning of docklines rubbing in the chocks when the wind shifts the boat; even the rush of water passing the hull in a ripping tidal current. A loose soup can rolling in the bilge can make you crazy. Then, there are the mechanical sounds; a bilge pump cycling on and off; the fresh water pump in the galley cycling to maintain pressure in the plumbing lines; the clicking of the propane fuel system solenoid engaging or disengaging. Every time the air conditioning system starts, I listen for the overboard discharge of cooling water from the pump, and make sure the condensation sump pump runs once in a while. Each sound means something and you become keenly aware of what it is and why it’s happening.

The VHF Radio can Provide Weather and Tide Information 24/7

Weather and Tide are at the Core of Every Decision

Regardless of what we’re planning for a given day, be it leaving the dock for a day-long sail or a weekend trip, maintaining the exterior wood on the boat, or simply moving gear or groceries onto the boat, the weather and tides are given consideration. In the marina, we walk most everywhere we go and fortunately, our docks are not the hundreds of yards long docks we’ve encountered in many places. Still, carrying freshly washed and dried laundry from the laundry room in a downpour is best avoided. At low tide the dock ramps can take a steep angle of 15° or so, and in spring tide cycles, during the full and new moons, the angle can be as much as 25°. That’s not the time to be hoofing gear or groceries about. Summertime thunderstorms, with their tropical storm force winds and lightning, are always a concern. You want to avoid storms, trust me on that. We never leave the dock in bad weather. But, if we’re underway and are set upon by a squall, we always try to be prepared.

Those are a few of our observations. Both Lisa and I are reasonably experienced sailors. Lisa has sailed as crew on tall ships during deep ocean passages, most recently on the 130’ Brigantine CORWITH CRAMER out of Bermuda. My experience has been gleaned in inshore coastal and near coastal ocean waters; I singled handed my first tiny sailboat, (she was 19’), all around the coasts of Georgia and Florida, and together with Lisa, we sailed her throughout the Florida Keys. We’ve both sailed as crew on a variety of different small sailing yachts. Until June of 2015, neither of us had lived aboard together full time. However, we have spent days and weeks aboard many boats, independent of one another and as a couple. 

Why are we here? Why are we doing this? To be honest, I’m not sure how to answer either of those questions. What I can tell you is that when we see Jo Beth, we feel the same sense of pride that many of my childhood friends feel when they gaze of their perfectly landscaped lawns, or their dream car, or take that long awaited trip to a mystical destination. And, we want adventure in our lives. That’s why I began skydiving when I was 16. It’s why I’ve hiked long distances alone, and single handed my small and fragile sailboat through the coastal waters of these Southern United States. I think I’ve mentioned before that my mother once said to me, ‘you always want to be where you’re not.’ Lisa and I can move our home and almost all of our stuff anywhere in the world, on any ocean in the world. It is a simpler way of living, of learning more about who we are and where we want to go in life. Not everyone could do this, or would want to. We understand that. If nothing else, we find it to be incredibly appealing.

Inbound from the Sea, St. Simons Sound

We and Jo Beth will continue to be a work in progress. Evolving and adapting to one another will never end. But even after a year, you’d suppose we should be ‘used’ to this, at least a little, for lack of a better phrase. Or so you would think. For a month now, I’ve been looking for a box of bronze wood screws.