Weather woes impeded our brilliant plan to take Story Time to Wilmington for the Marine Corps ball. Here’s a short summary of what happened:
Set off at 7:30 am on Tuesday, Nov. 5. This left barely enough time to make the 9ish hour trip down the coast and up the Cape Fear river and into a guest slip downtown before dark.
Working against this trip were daylight savings time, currents, and the incredibly tricky New River Inlet.
Got stuck in the mud just past Snead’s Ferry and had to get a little help from Tow Boat US, putting Story Time and crew an hour behind the tight timeline.
Finally got to open ocean to face sudden 6ft swells.
Rocked and rolled 8 knots south, hugging the coastline a mile offshore before an unscheduled thunderstorm decided to pop up.
Had to high tail it back to the inlet in an attempt to get onto the ICW instead.
Due to the severity of the storm and frustration of the crew, it made more sense to return to Gottschalk. Home in the slip by 4 pm (just not the slip we thought we would be in).
We were very sad and disappointed not to be able to bring our home with us for the ball. Looking back, the ICW would have been the easier and clearer choice, but this event was a great excuse to try some coastal cruising. Regardless of the outcome, much experience was gained, and lessons were learned (and last-minute hotels were booked). We cleaned up nice and danced the night away anyway.
We are excited to try again when we can be more flexible with our timeline. Both Cape Fear and Cape Lookout are on our “to-do” list this year. As a conciliatory gesture, the weather decided to cooperate with us on Sunday and we had one of the best sails all year. We took the entire Hobbs clan sailing in 8-10 knot winds and just bopped around New River for the day in 60 degrees. Story Time still takes my breath away with how smooth she sails. We got up to 6 knots in only 10 knots of wind!
It was fantastic to have Conor’s whole family with us this past week and we are thankful they were able to experience the good part of boat life with us as well as the frustrations. Most of all, we are grateful to have loving family who supports our crazy lifestyle.
Fun fact: It’s been just me, W, and Scout on the boat since Hurricane Dorian. During the evacuation, Conor had to leave to attend a military school for two months on the west coast. HE JUST CAME HOME!
Let me tell you, it has not been easy. Major props to single parents out there. I’ve been going going going for weeks with no break. Also, I’ve had to do all the dirty boat chores AND handle an increasingly opinionated toddler. In the past two months, I’ve done 3 pump outs, fixed the central air twice, hauled laundry/groceries/garbage up the docks more times than I can count, shuttled W to swim EVERY DAY+ story time, gymnastics, tot time, and park visits. Itsy bitsy spider and baby shark haunted my dreams. There was either a child clinging to me or a dog in my lap 24/7. My autonomy disappeared.
And I really, really, really missed my adventure partner in all of this.
I know I’ve been sparse with updates recently, but I’ll get back to posting more frequently instead of collapsing on the couch at the end of each day. Thankfully, this was the last major hurdle before the reserves next year. Now that it’s done (and he kicked butt at the school!) we can focus on sailing, cruising prep, and time as a family again. The Marine Corps ball is next week, and we are taking the boat down to Wilmington for 5 nights. Stay tuned for trip updates and see if these boat people can get fancy.
It’s National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. For those of you who don’t know our history, you can read this post and this post to catch up. I feel like I need to acknowledge this day with a post again, because even though we can’t celebrate a birthday we can at least dedicate a candle to them.
To be honest, I really didn’t want to write today. I am just…tired. Tired of imagining alternate timelines. Tired of the due-dates-that-never-were swirling around in my brain, impossible to forget. I am tired of the anxiety surrounding all things pregnancy related. Tired of no answers. Tired of tests and research that went nowhere. Tired of people feeling sad for us. Tired of being sad. Tired of hoping only to be let down again.
I’ve been pregnant 5 times. 5 times of symptom spotting, peeing on every stick in sight, and finally getting those two lines, only to break my heart in all but one instance.
I am thankful every day for my little girl. Still, though, I feel like I was robbed of enjoyment with her. I lived 9 months terrified that something would go wrong. I wish I could have been one of those happy, glowing pregnant women filled with excitement and celebrating the whole time, doing the pregnancy reveal and gender party. I can’t even imagine getting a positive test and automatically assuming that it leads to a baby.
So, where does this leave us? I don’t know. Each loss has changed us in a different way. My recent loss with twins in June felt like a different blow. Not only did it affect me and Conor, but W as well. Moving forward we need to consider what is best for her, too, and how long we are willing to leave this door of possibility open for. For my health, sanity, and well being of our family, at some point we will have to close it and be thankful for what we have.
If you know someone who has suffered a loss, reach out today. Let moms and dads know you’re thinking about them. It goes a long way.
Stroller. Life jacket. Sailing harness. Elephant leash. Lillebaby backpack.
W does not leave the boat without one of these devices. People make jokes when they see my toddler on a leash but Scout running free on the docks. My response? “I trust my dog more than I trust my kid not to fall into the water.” Also, Scout can swim. Little kids are complete egoists with no semblance of self-preservation. Their curiosity knows no bounds. They also like to do the exact opposite of what you tell them.
I encourage W to test her limits daily. She climbs, falls, runs, swings, and plays harder than any kid I’ve met. She makes mistakes and learns from them. Part of this ‘run wild, my child’ mindset is fostering a way and an environment where she can do that independently—but not around water just yet. That’s why I signed W up for ISR.
ISR is a swim program that teaches survival swimming to infants and toddlers. It is an intensive course that runs Monday through Friday for 6-8 weeks straight. Lessons are only 10 minutes per day, but at the end of this program W will be able to fall face-first and fully clothed into the pool, flip herself over, and float on her back. She will learn how to save herself. Here is a link to the website for more information. Be aware, some of the stories are tear-jerkers!
Of course, ISR training is NOT a substitute for child supervision around water. It will just add extra piece of mind in case, God forbid, she ends up in the river. As scary as it is to consider this happening, I need to give my child all the tools I can to support her, especially considering our lifestyle.
We’ve got one full week under our belts. I say ‘we’ because the time and money commitment to this as parents is no joke. W is also understanding that sometimes we must be comfortable with being uncomfortable in order to learn new skills. I just know that it will all be worth it in the end, and she will be SO PROUD of herself for learning to swim.
A quick update for everyone—we are safe, we are back, docks are still standing, boats are still floating. Thank you to everyone who kept Story Time and all of Gottschalk Marina in their thoughts during Hurricane Dorian. We know how lucky we were to just get a small taste of Dorian before he headed out to the ocean. Hopefully this will be the only evacuation this season (knock on wood).
So happy to be back to normal life, and I can’t wait for this part of the year to be over.
There is nothing quite like the quiet that blankets a marina before a hurricane. You would expect that the days leading up to it would be all hustle and bustle, everyone on deck as they prepare their boats for the worst. You think it would be loud—halyards clanging and dock carts rumbling and people chatting. Last-minute laundry, canvas coming down, and engines rumbling.
Instead, tension tightens the air. Conversation is stilted; “Do you need help with anything? When are you evacuating?” Everyone keeps their head down trying to remember an expanding list of stuff left to do. We watch the horizon and worry about how much time we have left. The humidity weighs us down and fills our lungs. We move through water, drained mentally and physically. The list never seems to get shorter, and after our 30th trip up and down the docks, we are tired. Dinner consists of whatever we can scrounge from the fridge before we have to throw out the rest. Pump outs, fuel, water tanks… Oh! Don’t forget the sea cocks under the v-berth. Did anyone tape the propane valves shut?
One slip up and it could cost us a lot—even our boat. I will admit, we are more prepared this time than for Florence. In August, Boat Tribe came up with a checklist for hurricane season. I thought I would share it here:
Now, we watch and wait while Hurricane Dorian directs its wrath toward the North Carolina coast. Yesterday, we evacuated inland to Winston-Salem and are safe and sound. Story Time survived Florence, Gottschalk Marina endured, and I’m hoping we will be as lucky this time around. Keeping everyone affected in our hearts this week. If you’re in the path, let us know how you fare.
This weekend, I planned to have an epic post to share with you all. The original Labor Day weekend plan was to motor to Swansboro, stay the night, offshore sail in the freaking OCEAN, stay another night in Swansboro, and then return to Gottschalk with some incredible stories.
Then Hurricane Dorian appeared on the horizon, and plans changed.
Instead, we did an overnight raft up with some of our bestest dock buddies and stayed in New River! For those of you who don’t know what a raft up is, it is when one boat drops anchor and the rest tie up on either side. For this raft up, there were 4 boats in total—Zach and Corri were the “anchor” boat on Minoh, Story Time was on her port side, April Fools (a catamaran) was on the starboard, and the littlest boat was a 26-footer on the end.
It was a ton of fun to be able to walk across 4 boats to eat, drink, chat, and take in the views. 80 degrees, cool breeze, light chop, and surrounded by laughing friends… anchoring out always feels like something out of a dream. It is so removed from real life I wish everyone could experience it. In such perfect weather, it was hard remember that there is a very real hurricane threat lurking.
The next morning, after coffee and breakfast and amid W’s absolute obsession with her “CoCo” (Corri), we hit the beach. Can you tell we were still a bit in denial about the hurricane to-do list waiting for us back at the marina?
I’m thankful we took the time to enjoy ourselves before hurling into this week and all the drama it will bring. Boats are a LOT of work and can be a pain in the butt, especially around this time of year. It was nice to appreciate Story Time for all the joy she brings to our lives before cursing a lengthy checklist while Dorian bears down.