Tag Archives: #irene

My Sentimental Galley

Lately I have possessed an obsession to learn more about cooking. Not like I haven’t always cooked, because I have. When it comes to making David’s top ten meals (most of which his mother made) I’m pretty much a James Beard award winner in the comfort food category. Before we moved to the boat I had a full on land kitchen that included a collection of cookbooks. I loved those books. The recipes inside them served as enjoyable reading and as blueprints for some great dinners. In fact, my first born grew up and became an excellent chef; so there must be a spark of a possibility in my DNA too, right? But those cookbooks that I prized for their beautiful photographs and the delicious recipes they contained never taught me how to invent food. And even a loving chef-son has to work so much and so many late hours, that cooking alongside him was a rare moment. Now, the stars have aligned and for some reason that I can’t explain, I have a a curiosity about how to make a from scratch meal with what is fresh, local and in my tiny pantry. I know where to find local produce in the middle of these islands and even where to buy the freshest fish straight off the boat. I’m a Northerner learning to cook perfect, well sourced grits. And just like that, my cooking is less about nostalgia and is “all about patience and trusting my senses” (Edward Lee). There’s no recipe book for that. Apparently I had to be today-years old to see that making David his beloved mom’s meals and doing something I love are one and the same.

I had to live this long and this adventurously to fully merge my senses enough to embody this expanded passion. I registered for a streaming service called “YesChef”. It’s an immersive experience of learning from the stories and kitchens of great chefs from around the world. Anthony Bourdain remains my first chef heart center throb however; now he is joined there with Francis Mallman, Erez Komarofsky, Edward Lee, Nancy Silverton, Asma Khan, and Kwame Onwuachi. The language of good food is a world language; it’s a love language and these chefs have inspired me, deeply. Their art and wisdom have moved me to tears a bunch of times. I cried when Francis Mallman removed his eggplants from the outdoor fire and peeled off the charred skin to press them and create Eggplant Milanese and prepared a simple salad (made with his hands only). I have watched Erez Komarofsky’s story multiple times and each time I am in awe of the Galilee countryside, the natural produce he picks to prepare his dishes, all things fresh and beautiful. I yelled “YES” and ran for my journal when Asma Khan shared her journey from a childhood in Kalkuta to her own restaurant in London. She was reflecting on her return to India where she founded a communal kitchen and restaurant for women to cook their Bengali regional foods. Many of them went on to become entrepreneurs and changed the fabric of the culture there. Asma’s words from my journal, “I cleared a pathway for generations to come. Clearing the way I applaud as they pass me. I want them to be better than me. ‘She’ is standing on me. What all of you see is my victory, you see my success, there was ‘no failure’. No one was there interviewing me; I carry the scars of the doors that closed on my face”. I imagine how Asma feels, while simultaneously being deeply humbled, as I insist to David that he inhale even more deeply, the aroma of the ginger, garlic and lemon grass I am cooking down with the green curry. (Saffron Korma goals are born in those moments.)

There’s a light shining out of my fingertips and beaming from my body to the world as I am standing in IRENE’s galley, on the shoulders of giants.

Living aboard IRENE, sitting on this dock, and turning my attention to the food I am preparing, I have made a few personal discoveries. For example, I discovered that love and salt are analogous. This alchemic magic should not surprise me, yet somehow, it does. Salt works through two chemical processes, osmosis and diffusion. Both are natural ways of seeking equilibrium and both are forms of movement and they are transformable. Understand this and your food and your life will both taste better.

I have discovered that love and fat are analogous too. As I am learning more about how fat works in food, I am reminded again of the chemistry of love. Fat affects taste and determines texture. The unlikely kindred roots of every love and delicious food are clearly a combination of “crisp, creamy, flaky, tender and light”. Render your heart in love like the fat to crunchiness. Imagine your beloved and how your hearts seem magically joined– Two things that have no obvious means of joining together give in to the force and the result is creamy and wonderful. That’s an emulsion. Achieve tenderness by adding fat early like butter in your pie crust, and keep it cool ;-D

One more area of ongoing discovery, acid. It’s not only the lemon for chasing tequila. Acid is meant to be more subtle than that. If salt and fat are synonymous with love, I’d say acid adds a little romance to the mix. Acid brings the balance. It makes your mouth water. I appreciate the joy of contrast in life and consequently, I was quick to recognize that tucking a little acid in every dish to bring the contrast is essential. IRENE’s tiny pantry already included multiple vinegars, pickles, cheeses, a fresh lemon and a lime. Maybe I didn’t offer David a romantic Valentine heart filled with chocolates, but I can throw together an alluring Caesar salad (thank you Nancy Silverton) and make my own mysterious Hot Vinegar (thank you Edward Lee).

Cooking can be a world of conscious creation and chemistry; of history, love, nature, and stories. Whether it is preparing food or making something with paint, clay, wood, movement, or words, the joy of creating is where we can feel our relationship with the one infinite creator (which we are). As my friend Carol Morgan told me, “everything you enjoy is yours…it’s not something you have, it’s what you are”.

So my friends, if “relearning to cook” on a boat on the water can lead me to deeply enjoy my life just as it is, then surely you might consider savoring every moment of your life in this physical world while you are here too. Create a mouth watering journey of your own. Do it for yourself which is the same as doing it for the world. To paraphrase Francis Mallman from his Patagonian frontier home and retreat, “The Edge of Uncertainty”: Do it from a place of joy, intuition and optimism. Please send pictures. I dream of applauding you.

“Stuff your Challah generously and life will be generous to you also.” Erez Komarovsky via his Grandmother.

Life is Mostly Subjective & the Planet is Mostly Water

On Monday morning, October 10th, with Hurricane Ian behind us, we set out on IRENE towards our winter home in Marathon, Florida. We had a full supply of passion and hopeful expectations for the journey. We traveled from morning to late afternoon, not just that day, but everyday, for 8 days. From Charleston to Church Creek at Wadmalaw Island, SC. From Church Creek to Spanish Point in Beaufort, SC. From there to Bull Creek (near Hilton Head). Bull Creek to Savannah, Georgia. From Savannah to New Tea Kettle Creek (seriously, up the creek a couple of miles). New Tea Kettle Creek to Floyd Creek at Cumberland Island, GA. After Cumberland Island, the Atlantic ICW brings you into Florida where we anchored in North Sisters Creek, south of Jacksonville. From Sisters Creek we headed to St. Augustine for two nights. Then three more travel days to Palm Coast, New Smyrna and then down the Indian River. Twelve days since departing Charleston. I just want to say, “holy shit”. I was not prepared for so much traveling, and all that it entails, day after day. In fact, by the end of day number 8, my body/mind complex called out for assistance by way of stillness, and that is the reason we stayed in St. Augustine for two nights rather than one. David was prepared to keep moving, but he was happy to accommodate my request, and settle in for a windy day of reflection on the mooring to rest and recharge for the duration of this journey.

We received assistance from these three amazing souls in the Cumberland River. We had passed them at Jekyll Island and after crossing the inlet, we saw them again. In the mixed up seas and big waves at the inlet, our dinghy had come untied and was dragging her stern in the water. They flagged us down and then, like Navy Seals, two of them swam over and climbed aboard and helped David and I rerun the lines and lift her up out of the water to secure her. They were wonderful and we would have had a much more difficult time correcting the situation on our own. We often say that we have angels around us and there they were showing up again.

Life on the water has transformed my definition of what it means to be strong and courageous. I believe the nexus of our strength and grit is not an amalgamation of physical attributes and drive to push on no matter what, rather, it is located at our heart center where we compose our lives, where we honestly identify our needs, where we birth and nurture our passions, and where we find the ears to hear. We all got a heart right there in our center to open up and create the life we want to live. It is a much truer composer and compass than the brain. Now, we are anchored in Cape Canaveral, Florida, with 400 more miles traveled. The wind is blowing out of the north, the current is flowing, there’s some big fetch from the Indian River, the tide is going out, and I am sitting here writing this missive to me and you from the strongest muscle I got.

On our second day in St. Augustine three of my crow friends came for a visit. They agreed that it was the perfect day to be right there.

We are incredibly grateful for these fair weather travel days. It means we have been able to cover a lot of territory and make good time towards our destination (approximately 400 miles). And of course, each day contained opportunities to appreciate the beauty of places, to commune with the natural world, to learn, and to encounter new people and all the energies. Albeit, while moving our bodies and navigating and steering and taking care of the boat and taking care of our basic needs and communicating and trying to get some rest and remembering to eat well and check on the anchor and just breathe. You know, life in a dense body.

South Carolina

South Carolina’s low country.

On a chart, or on a map, borders look like lines. Fine lines that depict boundaries and “distinct” places. For some period of time, most days, I am looking at charts and then, I am looking up. Back and forth between the lines and the world. Throughout this process I get to observe from a place of neutrality and play a kind of discernment game as we travel. I look for things that make one side of the line observably different or unique; for signs that the lines demarcate something noticeable. Simultaneously, every place has energy so there are the nuanced frequencies, vibes if you will, for places we pass through and inhabit. Imagine a map where you see the border lines, the outlines of the towns, the rivers, creeks, waterways, roads, mountains, and bays. Now, imagine you can take a translucent page, where colors overlay the map and depending on the local energy; the chart or map gets a shade of this color or a shade of that color, all representing a myriad of frequencies. I am not sure if was born with a soul contract to a certain place however; I believe it is more likely that I was born with a soul contract to resonate at a certain octave, and those places light up the colors over the map, for me.

South Carolina has a vibe and an energy that is familiar to me now. Here begins the landscape and ecosystem of the low country. This is the third time I have traveled through the Intra Coastal Waterway (ICW) of South Carolina. On the chart, it does appear that when folks sat down to draw that border line, they said, “shallow sounds and big rivers to the north and all low country grasses, creeks and marshes to the south”. Very nice state. Pretty high and bright octave.

Night one in South Carolina: Calabash Creek. This is the third time we have anchored in this creek. It sits at the crossroads of North and South Carolina, as well as a significant ocean inlet at LIttle River and the ICW. This time, we had to anchor twice due a strong current there. Once our chain was fully extended, we were just a little too close to the channel for comfort, as there are many tour boats and fishing boats that leave Calabash for the ocean and pass by there. In other words, their wake will rock the boat, regardless of where you anchor, so farther off the channel is better (and safer).

The first city along the ICW in South Carolina is Myrtle Beach. It is miles of slow and no wake zones. It is densely populated. On a Sunday morning, this means there will be a lot of traffic on the water. Therefore, we decided to leave the creek at sunrise to try and avoid a slow freeway experience on the water. Myrtle Beach appears to be a place for land lovers.

South of Myrtle Beach, the ICW joins the Wachesaw River. The river introduces fresh water to the salt water until it is more fresh than brackish. This is a wide and lush river where the trees grow right up to the shore. You can see remnants of old docks and camps in remote places, Eagles and alligators hunt the fresh water areas. You could be anywhere in the world. Green on green and blue and gray. I really like everything about it, especially how you can often see and hear the ocean shore just beyond the low country grass line.

We spent four nights in the heart of the river, right on the ICW at the Wacca Wachee Marina at Mullins Inlet (north side of Pawleys Island). We had intended to stay two nights however; there were four days and nights of 100 degree weather and high humidity and we needed to remain plugged in for AC. It’s not good for a boat to get moisture inside it. The best air for a boat comes from sunshine and a breeze from the bow to the stern blowing freely through her. In the absence of that, AC is an ok remedy.

Turns out that four nights is a good amount of time to accomplish things. The heat does beg you to slow down and choose pace over total number of things completed. At any rate, here is a partial inventory of things we did when we weren’t laying low or melting:

  • We washed the salt off of IRENE and gave her decks a good scrub and the windows received the squeegee treatment.
  • We took the dingy down and cleaned the hull and scrubbed IRENE’s water line. This was serious work takes a lot of collaboration. IRENE is long and wide, AND she is tall. The deck to the waterline is at least 12 feet.
  • While we were doing the waterline we also sprayed all the places on the stainless where there was a hint of rust. Rinsed that all down later.
  • We filled our water tanks.
  • We did laundry, ate at the cute restaurant there and had an instacart delivery.
  • Rested. Wrote. Read. Watched tennis. Cooked some good food and had a near ton of fresh fruit.
  • Met some really nice people at the marina and a gem of a human at the laundry who gave me a ride across a busy intersection to a nail salon. Maybe they didn’t build sidewalks there so that people could meet their neighbors? I don’t know, but it was so nice to get a ride on hot day from a person who shined the same lovely and bright colors as the low country.
See ya later alligator 🐊 on the dock at Wicca Watchee!

On the fifth day, we moved. Our destination was to leave the river, cross Wynea Bay to the ICW as it passes through the Cape Romain National Preserve. It is an extraordinary place. This is the place that dolphins and egrets go to relax. On this particular day, we stopped after only 20 miles at the South Santee River and anchor at the first significant creek, Minim Creek, on the east side of the river. The wind was howling out of the east, but our anchor held fine and dolphins circled IRENE repeatedly to say hello and to welcome us. There were a lot of local fishermen as well, who for the most part, kept their distance and didn’t wake us too badly. The wind was spectacular for sleeping and we woke to a light rain and fog. It was also the first day of duck hunting in SC. Put that all together and we were happy to be back underway early.

A pod of dolphins came along with us for miles up the river.

Early mornings in the low country are spectacular and we were buoyed by the colors, the waves, the wind at our backs, and the rising tide. We made our way to a place we had never been before, Graham Creek. This is a deep creek all the way up to where it bends towards the ocean. Low country grasses and sparse trees block the waves from the ocean and from the ICW, so you get to see the creak opening to one side, the ocean to the other. You can feel the ocean winds, and you hear the ocean crashing, all in the absence of the boat rocking. We anchored in the middle of the creek, just before the bend, in 10 feet of water at mid tide. Everything was lovely until the wind died. It became too hot to be comfortable and rain was on the horizon. And did it ever rain! It was the heaviest rain David and I have ever experienced, including during hurricanes. We laid down and listened to the rain on the roof in a kind of disbelief that the clouds could hold that much water. After the rain, there was no wind, just humidity. OH- and a Kingfisher. He perched right on IRENE’s Bimini and sat majestically, for a long while. I have never been so close to a Kingfisher. For those few minutes, the heat was bearable.

This rainbow appeared in the morning as we were leaving the creek.

From Graham Creek we headed to the Isle of Palms Marina on Isle of Palms, right on the ICW. It was a beautiful cruise however; once there, I had to come to the dock two times as the tide was going out and the current was stronger than visible or imagined. You know the expression about landing a plane is like a controlled crash? Heading a 25,000 pound boat at a dock at 4 knots with the wind behind you and current on your beam is kind of like that until you stop going forward, which hopefully, is with your boat parallel at the dock. In this situation, I do positive self talk like an athlete and remind myself that “practice makes progress”. At any rate, the second time was the charm.

On the dock at Isle of Palms (that’s Goat Island on the other side of the ICW).

Isle of Palms was a beautiful stop for two days. We had a spot at the end of the dock, facing the ICW. From there we were able to watch boats, ferries, fisherman, kayakers, sunrises, and crows. Crows! I feel like it had been a long while since I have communed with the Crows. On this day, I was walking down the dock and the crows were landing above me; circling and landing. I stopped to observe them and in turn, they stopped to observe me. We watched each other. Like dolphins, Crows are telepathic. On this day, as we were preparing to depart again, they were asking me to take a higher perspective. I definitely appreciated their communication as I was feeling a little “blah” about preparing to move. They reminded me, in the most beautiful way, to embrace the transitions. Sometimes I forget this. Also, I appreciate that the crows found me interesting enough to be curious about and engaged in staring at me for a bit. One even allowed me to take his picture before I walked on.

One last crow perched on the fishing tower.

Our next stop, Charleston. 10 miles from Isle of Palms to the Cooper River Marina on the north east side of Charleston. That will be IRENE’s home base for the next month, before we begin heading souther again. David and I will spend a few nights one the boat, at the marina, before moving into the room over the garage at (son) Jay’s house in Mount Pleasant. As always, sending up hopeful prayers for a continued low activity hurricane season and another month filled with love.

Have a blessed month~~~

Holdin’ Tight at Holden Beach, NC

Holden Beach Town Dock

Well, Be the Ship fam, it was not (simply) a battery switch that needed repairing. IRENE needed a new alternator. You know what takes a long time? Figuring out that IRENE needs a new alternator and then removing the engine cover/shield and taking the old one out. You know what is a miracle? The marine store in the neighboring town just happens to have the exact one we need IN stock. From there it just gets more neighborly when an employee at the boatyard who lives in that town volunteers to pick it up after work (no delivery) and bring it to work with him in the morning. 7:30AM, knock on the door. Time to get the new one installed.

As the details of this particular adventure were emerging, I made a list of immediate things to be grateful for. Here’s the list that emerged as the alternator was being pulled out:

  • We are in a safe place on the dock at Zimmerman Marine.
  • We are in a welcoming place (Zimmerman and Holden Beach).
  • We have met a very competent marine technician / electrician / captain. His name is “J”.
  • Zimmerman’s does not charge a dock fee, in addition to the hourly rate, while your vessel is here being repaired.
  • We are close enough to the beach that I can ride my scooter there.
  • The boatyard is next to Lou Lou’s Waterfront Restaurant.
  • The sun is shining.
  • There is a convenience store 1.5 miles from here.
  • I have several paintings to finish.
  • Doing, can also be a soft energy such as, taking time for unfinished things, breathing, moving, stretching, napping, reading, painting, writing, meditation, research, observing everything.
  • We have cell service.
  • The laundry is done.
  • IRENE got a wash down this morning.
  • No hurricanes nearby.
  • Only a few days of travel until we reach Charleston.
  • We have air conditioning.
  • We have choices and free will.
  • The sun is shining.
  • We are breathing.
  • We have a lot to be grateful for.

Writing that list reminded me of how therapeutic it can be to write a list. Just a list of items that flow through your body mind complex because you focus on listening to it. I can think of a multitude of other lists that I will write for myself, in the future. Right now I am going to extemporaneously type of list of unedited things that cross my mind.

  • If you breath intentionally and focus on the light in your body, you can expand your energy by several feet. (Try this.)
  • Sushi. I love sushi. Yesterday, David and I had those clear little salad wraps with Thai Chili Sauce. OMG, my brain melted.
  • It is not hard to be nice to other people. Hold them in your mind or send them love from your heart chakra even if they are physically far away or standing next to you. I focus on my belief that we are all one from the same one infinite creator.
  • IRENE. I am standing and writing at the chart table. She’s so rock solid. Nordic Tugs have a ton of ship integrity. If you don’t believe that you are the ship; if you’re still waiting for your “ship to come in”; take heart, look inside and at least, know you’re a tugboat and you gotta love that.
  • Chris Stapleton. Listening to him sing resonates at another octave for me. We are listening to one of my Pandora playlists and his songs get me singing along . He and I harmonize like magic is happening.
  • That one has me dancing too and I am reflecting on movement and how important it is in my life. It feels like I write about this aspect of myself a lot. My definition of movement is huge. From the most subtle forms of breathing, being in meditation, to dancing on the deck, it is all UPlifting and expansive, necessary and so attuned to honoring the body we find our self in. It literally moves us out of this density and into more “light” places and higher and higher frequencies.
  • Got some pictures over the phone today from Anna. God, they moved me. I shared them on a group text with my siblings and my sister Kathy responded about how being a grandmother can fill your heart. I have to agree. And seeing your own child becoming their own person, what a friggin’ courageous heart breaking open act that is. I mean it. Every age, every milestone, every transition, every move, every love, every hope or dream that are theirs, they’re like yours too and your heart breaks open, again and again.
  • Schools are reopened. One of my favorite people on this planet has announced this will be her last year teaching. If I have any regret, it’s that I won’t be there being her colleague through it. I believe everyone born, got a gift. Her gifts are many, but the one that gives me goosebumps (truthbumps my friend Carol calls them) is her deep knowledge and wisdom regarding young children and literacy. When presented with the choice of going deep or long, she said, “no way”, and continues to go both deep and long. This is so important. We need this love of literacy, of reading, of words, of writing, of communicating, of embracing the alphabet, literature, across all languages, in our lives and in our children’s lives.
  • I am crying now. (Her humility overwhelms me.)
  • Lastly, what has come up is the concept of stories. How we all have so many stories that they would fill books and libraries and lifetimes of telling. The irony is, when we focus on being present here and now, the current composition; those stories are the ones that change our lives. Life doesn’t happen in reverse and stories that are exclusive to the past, they’re a kind of addiction to people; I noticed this. Honor them by loving now. Imagine it forward. Bring it all along for the ride, As Baba Ram Dass said, “Be here now.”

Here’s a now story.. Something bizarre and slightly disconcerting happened Thursday night. After the boatyard closed they locked up the gate with a cable and padlock. We had the combination so we could walk to Lou Lou’s for dinner. As we were sitting on Lou Lou’s deck enjoying dinner, we watched a decrepit sailboat pull into the slip next to IRENE. It was dark as we were walking back to the boat and we saw the couple from the sailboat opening the gate and leaving. As we passed them, the man said to us, in a a kind of Boris and Natasha cartoon accent, “Vee vill see you in dee morning”. OK, right? They had the gate code. At daylight, the staff of the boatyard were perplexed about the boat and as it turned out, it was a total wreck. The boat had been abandoned there. All registration numbers had been removed and the serial number erased. Apparently, these things happen. Now it is on the boatyard to recycle it. No easy or inexpensive feat. Also, it turns out that the folks who do the dirty work of abandoning the boats get paid handsomely by the boat’s owner. My heart goes out to the folks at Zimmerman who are all employee owners and will bear the cost to responsibly deconstruct the boat. She had been a seaworthy vessel at one time and was built with good bones. Keep floating, little boat.

In other news, the alternator was successfully installed and Zimmerman’s let us stay over Friday night so we could do some provisioning and make a trip to the pharmacy for Davo. Miracles do prevail. Good people abound. We had a lovely Friday night on the dock. It is flounder season so there were a lot of boats out casting nets for bait and others fishing for flounder in the ICW. Lou Lou’s had a band on the porch and they played a lot of songs we knew. We prepared a simple dinner, followed by chocolate. A bright and beautiful crescent moon rose above us and in the moonlight, the abandoned boat looked like a respectable little vessel. Life goes on. Best to have a blessed point of view in the this life.

Holden Beach has been a good stop for us and we are infinitely grateful for our new boatyard friends. At the same time, we are happily looking forward to the amazing natural world that South Carolina has in store for us. Onward, friends.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Bless the mess. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Back Underway~~~

We had a beautiful breeze behind us from Saint Michaels to Solomons Island, Maryland. Leaving at high tide also meant we could ride the tide most of the way south and have a bit more speed than we would otherwise. We made it to our anchorage in Mill Creek about 7.5 hours after our departure. We had perfect conditions and smooth sailing from beginning to end.

Saw this fisherman as we departed Mill Creek in Solomons Island. Nice morning to be on the water.

We anticipated a moderate breeze overnight however; it was completely calm and 66 degrees. In other words, perfect sleeping conditions. No need to worry too much about the anchor holding and a great temperature as well. An early morning rain rinsed IRENE down a bit, I made coffee to go, and we pulled the anchor up for another full day underway to our next anchorage. We weren’t sure if the conditions would hold so we had plan A and plan B. It turned out to be a wonderful day to be on the move and we made it to an anchorage just north of Deltaville, Virginia on the Chesapeake’s west shore in Little Bay (just inside the bigger Fleet Bay). Approaching the channel from the north was so much more direct than the last time we stayed here when we were heading north and had to go a few miles out around the point. Two days of perfect conditions for traveling. We could not ask for more, but we we did get more. We had an unplanned day on our anchor in Little Bay. Turned out to be productive and as my friend Zac would say, “a day up, not off”. A day up is for doing things that elevate your spirits and your body. So there’s time for tasks, rest, reading, making things, boat maintenance, writing, organizing, all the things you do, when you do what you do.

Plan B. Little Bay anchorage. High tide over the little island beach (taken from our cockpit).

As I was doing my today things, I was reflecting on the physical aspects of living on a boat. You may be surprised to learn that living on a boat requires a lot of movement. Even when you are standing at the wheel you are balancing your body and kind of moving with the movement of the boat. David calls it “isometrics”. Today, in addition to “isometrics”, my movements included: washing windows (inside and out), emptying and reorganizing my personal cupboard (it’s home to my books, writing and art materials, technology things, cards, papers, and a collecting basket). I cleaned fruit, scrambled eggs, made coffee, and sat down to type a few words here. Now it is afternoon and I have been swimming and have been making tiny sketches in my journal inspired by the Shanty exhibit at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum & Marina. I am still moved by that little ark.

From where we sit now, we are about 50 miles from Norfolk. Norfolk is the busiest harbor on the east coast. It’s also enormous. The plan is to stop on the north side in Hampton, VA. Then, get through Norfolk early the next morning to make it to Chesapeake, VA, where we can stay on a free wall for a couple of nights before beginning the next big leg south. Through the eastern rivers and across some big bodies of water between Virginia and Florida.

Our next extended stop is in Charleston sometime in mid-September. We will visit Jay and his family, see their new house, and support them any way we can. I will be flying out for 4 days while we are there to visit friends in South Dakota for a brief retreat for body, mind and soul. I am looking forward to it.

In the meantime, I am trying to reconnect with the enthusiasm I had for the children’s book I have drafted and take the next steps towards publication. Or, maybe I won’t. I have dozens of passion projects brewing most days and prioritizing any one of them over the other will likely be based on which one has the most natural momentum. Project roulette.

Family Postcards

Hollis and Xander in the backyard at the new house in Charleston. Let the adventures continue…
Ronin and Leda are on a roadtrip with their parents, exploring the west. Camping in the Badlands in South Dakota this week. That’s a powerful place.
Gus (2007 – 2022) left his earthly body last week. His spirit is everywhere. If you had the pleasure of meeting Gus, you know he was a very happy gentleman who loved unconditionally. He ate with abandon and enjoyed his walks to the park. Emma took care of him for the past year and half and she gave him extra life. Fly high sweet Gussy. You have been a great friend and teacher. Until we meet again, Godspeed you home.
On August 16, 2022, Miss Isla Ray Yesh turned 3.

Making Our Way North

The ICW in Georgia is a water maze filled with of sweet grass, dolphins, flying fish, sea birds and travelers. Neither of us had ever imagined what the waterway through GA would hold. On the chart it’s clearly a winding connection of rivers, creeks and inlets, navigating through it, you see it’s a beautiful and complex ecosystem that you never learned about in school. Georgia’s coast and intracoast have been a spectacular surprise.


After anchoring at the Ferry Dock on Sapelo Island on Saturday night, we left Sunday morning for a full (nearly 8 hour) day cruising to Savannah and arriving at the Isle of Hope Marina at the last spot on the dock.

We are the last little boat on the far dock.

Monday morning, we borrowed a car and explored Savannah. It’s an enchanting city filled with history and good food. All the same, we were happy to get back to Irene for some well needed rest after such a long Sunday. Now, we are planning the next leg of this journey that will take us from here and into South Carolina. The first day will be another long one. We will travel about 60 miles along the Intracoastal with the goal of finding a safe anchorage south of Charleston and blessings all around.