What would I do if I couldn't cruise anymore?

I really love cruising…both land and water, but especially water. It is an immense freedom to carry your entire household with you no matter where you go and not be rooted in one particular spot.

When I sold my house to buy “Faith” it was much more difficult than I had anticipated. For so many years I had dreamed of ‘selling the house and the stuff and sailing off into the sunset’ that I was taken quite by surprise at the emotional distress I suffered when it came right down to the act of giving up my cute little house and most everything I had accumulated in the previous 20 years of living. I had carved myself a very comfortable little niche and, even though I wanted very much to go cruising, it was a niche I felt great trepidation about leaving. Every dream, though, has its price. Since I couldn’t afford both a house and a large cruising boat it was imperative to shake off the chains of dirt living. If I didn’t, I would forever be doomed to the land of “what if…” and “I wish I’d…”

As I begin my third year of gypsy living, my occasional musing comes down to “what would I do if I couldn’t do this anymore? I don’t think I could ever go back to a “normal” lifestyle. There are pieces and parts of this style of living that are pretty difficult. Putting the boat “to bed” for a summer in dry storage and then putting it back together in the fall so we can leave requires a tremendous amount of hard work and it is usually fairly hot here in Mexico so that adds to the equation. Still, the rewards of seeing new places, meeting new people and enjoying some incredibly beautiful moments in life makes it all worth it.

Chris & I have begun a discussion during the past year about what we would do if we became physically unable to keep cruising. Anyone who sails knows that it is an activity that requires a fair amount of physical strength and coordination. Thus far we are still capable, but now that we are both over 60 we must face the fact that “something” could happen to one or both of us that would leave us in a much different position.

We have seriously evaluated a number of small Mexican towns that are particular favorites of ours and discussed finding a nice little palapa of our own in one…maybe with a smaller day-sailer close by. The down side is that it would mean we’d be in one place most of the time. Over the past couple years we have discovered that, while we both love being able to stay in one spot for a while, after a few weeks the “itchy-feet virus” seems to hit pretty hard and pretty soon one or the other is suggesting a new destination only to discover that the other person was just thinking that same thing.

We have also talked of getting a trawler (power boat) in order to continue cruising. Many of our friends have done just that. They are still living on the water and going where they want but it involves much less stress on your body. The down side is that trawlers are generally quite a bit more expensive to purchase and run.

Another option that has been discussed is getting a larger travel trailer or RV and just doing our traveling on land. That, too, is much more expensive than water cruising but still brings some wonderful rewards. The down side is that, as we’ve discovered, people who RV aren’t nearly as open and friendly as those who cruise on water (except, of course, for Canadians who have to be some of the nicest, friendliest people on the face of the earth). Nothing personal against RVer’s. It has just been our experience (at least in the U.S.) that they seem to stay in their own little plot and don’t really enjoy the camaraderie that cruisers do.

Just as an aside, we have some ideas why that might be true. First of all, cruisers don’t tend to have TV so they spend a lot of time together socializing, playing games, helping the local communities and each other, exploring (mostly on foot or by bus) etc. Secondly, water cruisers have a morning net wherever they go. Each day the cruisers who are in residence in a particular place come together via the radio to address possible medical emergencies, welcome newcomers, say goodbye to those who are leaving, exchange information about needed parts & repairs, find out about the weather (this is BIG when you are traveling by sailboat), learn about social events, trade things, and just generally get acquainted and help each other. That’s something the RVer’s don ‘t have. Also, all the cruisers understand that anything can happen when you’re “out there” (as Captain Ron said) and while we are all truly on our own, we are also truly all together. If ever someone is overdue or has an emergency, the entire community is on alert and ready to step in with whatever help they can provide, so, as a group they tend to become very connected, very fast.

So…what would we do if we couldn’t do this anymore? Well, I honestly don’t know for sure, but I’ll bet we’d find some way to stay on the water from time to time and continue traveling. The one thing I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t do is sit and vegetate.

It's Still Camping!

OK. For the longest time I thought that restroom facilities in marinas were the iffy-ist you could find but I stand corrected. RV parks have it all over marinas. During our travels this season Chris & I have begun to judge RV parks by their restroom facilities and, quite honestly, it boggles the mind what some people consider adequate. They run the gamut from “rustic-doesn’t-even-come-close” to luxurious 5-star-hotel-ish accommodations. As a woman who has never been a big “camper”, one of the aspects of traveling as a way of life I’ve had to get accustomed to is the fact that you are almost always using someone else’s bathroom. I have friends who always shower in their RV’s or on their boats but taking a shower in a closet where every cup of water must be rationed and the amount of hot water available is minuscule is something I prefer to do only when necessary. I don’t mind as much on the boat since the trade offs make it worth the slightly more primitive lifestyle, but, somehow, it seems to me that when you are staying in a land based “mini-town” I tend to expect a bit more in creature comforts.

So…on to the facilities: The park we stayed at for much of the summer had lovely showers. There were two buildings…a small one in the front (with one shower) for the “transients” and another at the back of the park for “long termers”. This second building had 5 showers in it. Each was a separate small room with a locking door, a shelf for your “bag of accouterments” and a couple hooks for towel, clothes, etc. The shower curtain was large enough to cover the entire shower entry (so the water stayed inside the stall), there were shelves inside for shampoo, etc., and there was ALWAYS hot water. In the main restroom area there was a large sink/countertop and mirror with 3 sinks and 3 outlets. Perfect. These people know how to run an RV park!

This summer we discovered state and federal parks where camping is available. There is good and bad to this. The good is that these are usually beautiful spots that are well maintained. There are camp hosts to provide guidance and do general cleanup and the park rangers make sure “rowdies” don’t disturb everyone else or cause a nuisance. Restrooms…well, sometimes they are wonderful and sometimes they are what you would expect at a campground. One place we stayed was in a lovely old growth forest at the edge of a lake. It was a beautiful, peaceful place and we would have been happy to stay longer if we’d had the time. The one thing I did balk at was, after paying over $30/night, the showers still required quarters. Another very nice state park had free showers but they were in a building open to the elements. Oh, they had doors and were private enough, but with cement floors and no heat it was a challenge getting naked and waiting for the water to heat up. This would have been fine in Arizona but Oregon is an entirely different climate zone…even in the “heat” of the summer!

One of the RV parks we pulled into in Arizona looked fine from the outside but the restrooms were brutally backward. There were clearly a number of “liveaboards” in this park so I was shocked at the facilities. The women’s room had a door that stayed open all the time and anyone walking past looked directly into the shower area which was only hidden by a very old, nasty, torn shower curtain. Beyond that there were 2 stalls…only one of which had a shower head and that was so low it hit me about tit level (too graphic?) so hair washing was a real trick. This restroom had two toilets but neither door had a latch and the sink did not work. Mind you, the nightly cost was higher than a number of better parks that we stayed at.

We found a real gem in, of all places, Bakersfield, CA. The park itself was beautifully laid out with nice, wide, paved driveways, level spaces, a strip of grass and picnic table for everyone and the cost was less than most. And the restrooms were amazing! The shower facilities were totally separate from the bathrooms and each of the 5 or 6 showers were beautifully tiled, had a locking door on the outside and a glass door on the shower stall. There was room to put a bag, hooks, shelves in the shower, unlimited hot water and a shower head that delivered lots of water above my head! The large vanity area was at the far end of the room and separated by a partial wall that kept the mirror from fogging up from steam. And it was impeccably clean.

We have begun keeping notes on the good, the “OK for one night” and the awful for future reference. Suffice it to say that part of the “experience” of traveling seems to be the unknown challenges one will face at the end of a long day of driving when you make that first walk to the shower to wash the stress and dust off.