2018 Year in Review + What’s Next?

Disclaimer: after a few of weeks of shorter form posts, this is a somewhat extreme return to long form. Apparently I ramble (even more than usual) when I get nostalgic. But putting this together has been very meaningful for me, so here it is, unedited. I won’t be offended if you don’t make it to the end.

Learning from a year aboard

Its April as I write this, but let’s take a step back. We’re in Rodney Bay, St. Lucia, where Alec and I are sat in our hammock on the bow, waiting for the fireworks that will mark the start of 2019. Having begun to decompress from the previous three months (which were jam packed with big passages and time with friends and family), we’d both independently turned our thoughts to the future, though so far had been cagey in sharing our musings with each other.

First, and of most immediate relevance, was to consider what we wanted our 2019 Caribbean season to be like vs. our 2018 in the Med. We made many mistakes last year but learned a LOT – and now, as we were making our Caribbean cruising plan, was the time to take all that on board.

One facet of our experience in a way dominates 2018 and was foremost in our minds as we reflected back: the breakneck pace we set ourselves. Hey, we were new to cruising and we had a lot we wanted to do! But, in retrospect, we tried to pack way too much in, especially to the Med. And this was exacerbated by the fact that we were still trying to finish the boat refit while we sailed. It meant we were sprinting from place to place, having to miss out spots we’d have liked to see (or going to those spots but mostly working on the boat rather than exploring) and not giving ourselves the opportunity to relax and take our time. It was unfortunately only after we’d gotten to our easternmost destination, Turkey, before we realised this, and by then, with all our visitors already booked in, it was too late to change our plans.

But the point of what we are doing is not to achieve a certain number of miles sailed or tick off a certain number of countries – what we love about sailing are the experiences that, we’ve discovered, typically only come when you can slow down: getting to know fellow cruisers, spending days exploring remote, untouched anchorages, or enjoying the simplicity of a day when the only thing you need or want to achieve is to be happy in that moment. Because we had such an aggressive timetable, we had fewer of those experiences last year than we’d hoped.

But, importantly, we also achieved a lot in 2018, and have so much to be proud of! We sailed Serenity all the way from Croatia to St. Lucia, and packed a whole heap into that journey. Despite the flaws in our planning, it was full of exceptional experiences and memories. One of the best things about having kept up this blog is that it serves as a reminder of all the great things we did last year! It was so much fun to read through it all again and relive the highlights:

2018 in numbers

• Total distance travelled: 7,689 nautical miles
• Total hours under engine: 634
• In detail:

• Countries visited: 10 – Croatia, Greece, Turkey, Italy (Sicily, Sardinia), France (Corsica, Martinique), Spain (Mallorca, mainland, Lanzarote), UK (Gibraltar), Cape Verde, St. Lucia, St. Vincent & the Grenadines
• Places visited (# of unique stops): 88

• Visitors hosted: 17 – Alex & Geraint, Charlie, Joe & Amy, Barry & Sarah (x2), Liv & Elliott (x2), Lindsay, KC & Desiree, Phil, Kate & Rob, Ballin & Katherine
• Cruiser friends made: Kiwis in the Ionian, Nemesis 1 (Jan & Lynn), Ice Bear (Don & Cindy), Reflexion, Let’s Dance, Windance (Bobbie & John), Flopper Stopper man, Big Sky (David & Tina), singlehander in Lanza, Ken in Mindelo, Seahawk (Sam & Marianthe), Nemesis 2 (James, Georgie & Imogen), Amethyst (Iain) = 12
• Total fish caught: 12 – 3x dorado, 1x sea bass, 1x barracuda, 7x tuna (1 in the Caribbean, 6 in the Med)
• ROI of fishing equipment:* Negative 20%, but I blame the weed in the Atlantic/Caribbean for messing that up!
  *Alec will be happy to discuss methodology behind this ‘very complicated’ metric over a beer
• Largest fish: c.30kg dorado, off Lanzarote with Ballin & Katherine

2018 in words and images

February: Picked up the boat and completed re-flagging, hauled out at the yard in Split, redesigned the electrical system, made a bunch of holes in the boat, filled them back in, and fixed all manner of things.

March: Pushed through the hardest parts of the refit (antifouling, rig replacement, windlass fixing, instrument troubleshooting, electrical installations, and so many other things!) and succeeded, made time for a bit of fun exploring Split, officially renamed the boat and relaunched.

April: Got the last of our “must dos” in (solar panel arch, toilet servicing, new sails, etc.) and finished moving aboard before finally setting sail! Successful two weeks of shake down sailing exploring the islands south of Split as we made our way to Dubrovnik.

May: Completed our first overnight passage (2 nights!) and made it to Greece, tried out the spinnaker for the first time, met our first fellow cruisers (Ice Bear and Nemesis), and transited the Corinth Canal. Oh, and I became a British citizen!

June: Had amazing meet ups with UK friends on Aegina (the Williams) and Mykonos (Alex and Geraint), successfully made it to Turkey, hosted our first overnight visitor (Charlie!) and finally finished installing the Hydrovane.

July: Hosted our first week-long visitors, Joe (Alec’s cousin) and Amy, and had our first beach bbq and sea turtle sightings. Rescued fellow cruisers Windance (shout out to Bobbie and John!) when their engine failed, caught our first tuna, smashed out two multi-night passages on our way to the western Greek island, Kythera, and set off on a four nighter to Sicily.

August: Successfully completed our longest passage to date and managed to sail a record 70% of the way to Sicily. First alternator and major engine service completed on our own, navigated weird Italian customs formalities and did our first day trip inland (to Noto). Avoided any jellyfish stings, covered the entire southern coast of Sicily, up to Trapani, and across to Olbia on Sardinia (through a crazy lightning storm), where we picked up Alec’s parents for a week of exploring.

September: Conquered Corsica, where Alec’s parents left us, and passaged to Mallorca. Fixed a worrying salt water leak, inspected the fuel tank, and installed a third tap. Collected Liv (Alec’s sister) and Elliott for a Spanish adventure, including our first overnight passage with guests. Perfected our inflatables set up, and took Valencia by storm where we also hosted our Swiss/American friend Lindsay. Skirted the Spanish coast, caught loads more tuna, hosted some uni friends (“Snackbox” and “Ropeslinger”), and finally landed in Gibraltar. Yes we did ALL that in September.

October: Picked up the Spinnaker Doctor (Phil!) and nailed our first major ocean passage, from Gib to Lanzarote. Hiked a volcano (twice), sewed a foam luff / lee cloths, and aligned schedules with a cruise ship to see Kate (Alec’s aunt) and Rob. Met our now cruising buddies Sam and M from Seahawk. Welcomed and trained our close friends and Atlantic crew, Ballin and Katherine, with whom we caught an enormous Mahi Mahi.

November: Didn’t let an emergency haul out for engine issues hold us back. Perfected a boat breadmaking recipe, and then cleared out the grocery stores of Lanzarote. Record time for Atlantic leg 2 from Lanza to Cabo Verde, with first night watches for B + K, first broach, and first flying fish attacks. Celebrated Thanksgiving on the first day of the true Atlantic passage and started to nail our major passage routine.

December: Arrived in Martinique after a storming 14-day passage from Cabo Verde with B + K. Ate all the French food, saw a bunch of turtles and then lapped up the luxury of Marigot Bay in St. Lucia. Had two glorious weeks with Alec’s family, including Christmas aboard, dancing with Mick Jagger on Boxing Day, and catching a tuna for family sushi night! Wow!

The ‘so what’ here is that, despite an overly-ambitious route plan, our first season of cruising was actually pretty epic. But we know we can achieve as much awesomeness with a lot less stress, and this year we want to try to really nail that balance. We have taken the learning about pace massively to heart, which is why we set a much, much more constrained route for the Caribbean (sailing the lesser Antilles only!). It looks almost comical, in a way, compared to how much ground we covered last year! But we whole-heartedly believe the change in mileage will have an inverse correlation with quality of experience. And if our time here so far are anything to go by, I think the new plan is revolutionary!

Okay, so… now what?

Back to Rodney Bay – Alec and I in the hammock, looking at the stars. Our season here in the Caribbean stretched enticingly ahead, but then after it hung a big, grey question mark. We’d been able to ignore the “what next?” issue easily for the last year, distracting ourselves with passages, visitors and timelines to meet. But now, with really the world at our feet and no pressure on time, we were forced to consider it. What does the future hold for Serenity and us?

When we started this adventure, we agreed that we’d definitely spend the 2018 season in the Med and the first half of 2019 in the Caribbean (up to hurricane season). At the end of that, there’d be a “break clause” where either of us could say we didn’t want to continue and there would be no hard feelings either side. While in principle that made sense, we’d now realised that we needed to make our decision imminently because, whether we wanted to continue or not, the consequences of our choice would require a lot of preparation and organising in advance. Ergo, having nailed down our Caribbean season plans and given ourselves a few days to compose our thoughts after all our guests had gone, we broached this difficult conversation of “the future.”

For Alec, the answer was fairly straightforward – he wanted very much to finish our voyage in Australia. The Pacific contains some of the last unspoilt parts of the world (reefs where the coral still really lives and the fish still thrive!), and, we are told, some of the loveliest people. It is the definition of the road less travelled, and it’s an area of the world we may never have the opportunity to explore again.

For me, the water was a bit muddier, but I did feel very clearly that we should continue our adventure. After a crazy season in the Med, I felt we would be selling ourselves short to stop in July. What we’re doing now, taking it slow here in the Caribbean, is the dream – surely all the work we did last year (and in the years leading up to it saving the funds) was worth more time aboard. But where? I was nervous about the idea of heading towards Australia because of the length of the ocean crossing from central America to the nearest South Pacific islands. The other downside to this route is that it’s a significant extra time commitment; considering the crossing lengths and the cyclone season, it would mean we’d be gone until the end of 2020.

That night, in Rodney Bay, we agreed that we both wanted to do another season of some variety, the but details remained hazy. We needed to look at all of our options and I also wanted more time to reflect on my feelings.

It was only a few weeks later when I found clarity. We were in a marina in Guadeloupe and revisited our “what next” conversation over pizza and a beer on the boardwalk. The conversation followed us back to Serenity’s cockpit and long into the night, but we slowly honed in on our answer. Our other options for a 2020 season, besides the Pacific, would be to: a) do another Caribbean stint, b) explore central America, or c) go up the US east coast. Honestly none of those alternatives were appealing. I love the Caribbean, and we haven’t even touched the vast expanse of the Bahamas, but it is somewhat “spoilt” – huge cruise ships follow us everywhere we go and many places have become plasticky tourist traps. While central America would be totally different, there are reasonably large stretches that aren’t terribly safe, and there aren’t a lot of other cruisers there so the community would potentially be tiny. Sailing Serenity up into the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia would be a lot of fun, but I also want to take the opportunity to break new ground. I grew up in the States – there is so much more out there in the world to experience!

Honestly, all signs pointed towards the Pacific. I feel drawn to it just like Alec. I think would be a completely unique experience. It feels like the right final leg to our voyage. But I struggled to get past my fear of the long passage from central America to the Pacific islands. It will likely be four weeks and could be longer depending on the weather. That felt insurmountable for a long time. But, slowly, I realised that was because I was thinking about it just in the context of myself. When I think about it from the perspective of Alec and I as a team – now then it doesn’t seem so scary! I completely believe in us, and I know that together we can take crossing the Pacific in our stride. Now, feeling better about that, the answer was obvious – keep heading west and don’t stop till we hit Aus. So that’s what we’re going to do!

The tentative plan is to go through the Panama Canal in the vicinity of Christmas 2019, and head for the Marquesas around February 2020. We’ve then got 8 months or so to work our way towards Aus via the Tuamotus, Society Islands, Tahiti, Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, etc. etc. with the aim to be home in time for Christmas 2020. We still have a lot of details to work out, but we’ll share them as we nail them down 😊.

Thank you

Looking back at what we achieved last year and thinking about what we hope to do before we finish this wild ride… I am filled to overflowing with gratitude, so I just wanted to end here by saying thank you. Thank you so much to our families for supporting us, cheering us on, and not getting annoyed at us for the constant barrage of sunset photos. Thank you to our wonderful friends for coming to visit us, following our blog posts and sending us witty remarks when we need it most. Thank you to all the new friends we’ve met along the way for being a part of this with us. And most of all thank you to my wonderful husband for being the most amazing sailing partner – I could not trust any skipper more!!