How to make a boat a home

Is it human nature to want to mold your environment to reflect your presence? I find that even in the small confines of a boat, with the big beautiful world around us as an infinite yard/playground, we are still looking internally at what about the boat we can alter, change or add to.

We've been visiting lots of other boat-homes and I am inspired, amazed and surprised by what personal touches and innovative designs people have managed to create within a severely limited space.

We bought our boat out of charter. It's previous life was a week in week out transport of tourists, whose aim was to motor to as many beautiful places as possible in the shortest possible time. As chartering is expensive, the aim was always to get as many bodies on board as possible, to share costs.

So Shiloh hosted eight guests at any given time, fully utilising her 4 berths (beds) and 4 heads (bathrooms). She did her job well and made it through the constant turnaround for over 7 years fairly unscathed.

Now that we have moved aboard, we have completely different needs. 4 heads is almost ridiculous. Even in large suburban homes, 4 bathrooms is an overkill. We've got an ensuite for each bedroom, even though these bedrooms are smaller than the average walk-in closet!

We have no shelving, no knick knacks, no clutter. And though that is great, the boat is still looking less loved, less lived in than others.

We will definitely add things as we go, but there comes a point where boat owners have to decide how much to alter or change. Structurally speaking, removing bathrooms involves plumbing and throughhulls and can get complicated. Changing one of the berths into a storage or living space can also be quite complicated, not to mention expensive.

But this is our home and we plan to be with Shiloh for quite a while. So she is worth our best efforts.

The question is where to draw the line. Can we change the colour of the interior wood or even change the surfaces altogether? Should we recover the lounge suite cushions with leather?

The list gets longer, the longer we live aboard.

Installing the new dodger

 We have already added some practical things like a clear dodger above the cockpit so that we don't get soaked during rainstorms and high seas. We've added side panels as well for a cozier and less wet experience at anchor. We added nice white vinyl cushions on the outdoor seating area.

I'm sure we'll continue bit by bit over the months and years.

All around us the turquoise sea holds us afloat and captures our senses. Palm trees wave from the shore. But I guess that a home is always something we need to create, no matter how beautiful our surroundings nor how small the residence.

Anticipation

As we do laundry at the marina, we watch other boats coming and going...

It’s been a week of firsts. Yet a week of longing for more. Despite all our hard work, new friendships, places visited and discovered, foods savoured, drinks sipped and sunshine soaked up – we still haven’t sailed. I know that we will have months and years of sailing ahead, but there comes a point, a day when you just feel like you haven’t really ‘joined the club’ til you’ve left the safe harbor and raised the sails.

We are contemplating at least leaving True Blue Bay and heading around the south of Grenada, past Prickly Bay to Hog Island. It promises less rolling waves, swimmable water and a little beach bar on the island to scoot over to, by dinghy of course.

JW has managed to get the newly installed radar system functional, we’ve treated the galley and saloon floor with teak oil, installed lights above the outdoor table near the nav station, and I have done some nesting. Managed to put up some bits of nautical artwork around the boat, and it’s feeling both like home, and ready to move.

A few Ghana masks have made it across with me!

A mosaic fish all the way from Hermanus flea market in South Africa now in Shiloh's master bath!

We’ve yet to hoist the sails and check out that everything is in order, but the clock is ticking closer!

Meanwhile we’ve settled into the ‘cruisers life’ here in Grenada, starting each day listening to the 7:30am broadcast of cruisers net –where you hear weather and wind info, social events, ‘treasures of the bilge’ classified ads, and info about local goods and services.

We’ve been to a Trivia night – arrived by dinghy after motoring directly through a mini rain storm in the bay – spent the evening dripping through our chairs. My team came in second and I was given our team prize – a bottle of questionably cloudy peach coloured rum punch. Haven’t ventured to test that out yet!

Serving up fried and battered plantain - Esther and Omega's class

 I attended a local cuisine cooking class, and learned that Grenadians like fried foods. Which was great because we got to taste the food and I was in the mood for some grease and carbs. We made fish cakes, battered plantain and sweet potato pone for dessert. Sat a bit heavy later!

The bicycles continue to serve us well, and have taken us on a south west tour of the island, from the University to the airport, to the 2mile long Grand Anse beach.

Basically, it’s been great, but we’re getting that nagging feeling – it’s time to move! Stay tuned.

day 1

While other writers huddle in Starbucks outlets, nose in their computer screen, tall skinny mocha at the ready, coat layers bunched up beside them…. I am barefoot, typing away on a dock bar, peering through the wooden planks under me, to the crystal clear water lapping over the bright red crabs on the rocks below. 

White gossamer curtains hung from rustic wooden poles separate the tables and blow gently in the breeze. Beyond, the catamarans bobbing on the jetty provide the backdrop to a shimmering ocean. Shiloh is amongst them. In the galley JW sits surrounded by cables and wires and tools. He is fitting out the boat with all the systems and gadgets that will either be necessary or nice to have. Either way, I’m at a safe distance.

Holiday makers in bikinis and wraps pass me now and then, to and from the Dodgy Dock Bar. They are sandy toed and pink shouldered. They are enjoying a relaxing holiday. They probably assume I’m doing the same, or even that I SHOULD be, instead of sitting at a computer! But this is not a two week getaway for us. This is day three of the rest of our lives.

We have left everything behind and started life on a boat. It is still pretty surreal to me. I have precisely three weeks sailing experience and can barely tie the knots in my shoelaces. But I have known for years that I wanted to travel the world. I have never felt security in having a homebase, I would always have the feeling there was somewhere more interesting to live, so many more things to do and see that there would be a sense of longing, of restlessness.

Living on a boat, I reasoned, would allow me to travel the world cheaply, and not have to spend thousands on flying, living out of suitcases. JW concurred. Sailing has been his dream since he was 10 years old, helping out on a friend’s tugboat in Cape Town’s waterfront. Luckily his dream is accompanied by his skills as a captain!

To get here, to this very spot I’m in, has taken more than a decade – from planning to purchasing the boat, to seeing our kids off to University and quitting our jobs. It was a long time coming, but it all fell into place perfectly. Five years ago we bought Shiloh in the British Virgin Islands, and with the help of our kids, sailed her 700 nautical miles, to her current home at True Blue Bay in Grenada.

Since then she has been in charter, and we have been longing to be back here, to start our journey. To live out a dream, to truly enjoy… We’ve had so many reactions from family, friends and strangers. Most are incredulous – either they can’t believe we would do it, or wonder why the hell we’d want to. And there are those who would love to do the same, but see so many obstacles. In all cases, the prospect is something imagined, something mysterious.

For us it has always been romantic, inspiring, our main motivation. It has been the topic of so many conversations for us, so much planning, so much thought. And Saturday March 31st our plane touched down.

We managed the immigration hassles and made it to Shiloh’s welcoming saloon. ... And to a guy dressed head to toe in a white jumpsuit, eyebrows and hair a matted white, mask covering his face. Fiberglass work. No water onboard since the tanks were emptied to fix the crack with the fiberglass. No curtains, no galley couch cushions, and more wear and tear than we’d contemplated.

We walked onboard and began to turn green. The rolling waves and the moving jetty worked together to ensure instant seasickness. As we ingested our second round of Gravol Saturday night, we looked at each other in a drug induced fog.

Is this what our dream has led to? But day ones are always the most challenging. We’ve already been for drinks on a new friend’s yacht and managed to pack away the mountain of clothes. There is a real satisfaction in completing each task. It brings you back to the basics in life – taking each day at a time and appreciating each accomplishment.

In a couple of weeks Shiloh will be fully kitted out and ready to sail the ocean blue – and we will too!!!