The End

This is it – our last blog post. We reflect on the joys, challenges, and what we achieved on our boat in the last three years, and share what’s next for us and for our gorgeous girl, Serenity First.

PS: We’ve just realised that COVID isn’t featured once in this post, which wasn’t intentional but certainly reflects how fortunate we have been in our last year, and with all the negative news currently circulating it feels good to have created something outside of that. We hope people are still able to enjoy Christmas in some form and pray that 2021 is able to offer people more than the last twelve months.

In homage to our journey home to England from Fiji, the map above shows our flight path. In 36 hours we travelled 11,900nm from Nadi, Fiji back to London – a distance that thankfully we have exceeded by over 7,200nm in our preceeding three years sailing on Serenity.

Part I: Our Trip

L: While the shape and scope of our three year trip did flex, we broadly followed the path we’d dreamed up before leaving dry land. In 2018, we got our sea legs hopping around the Mediterranean sea, then crossed the Atlantic in the lead up to 2019 for a year of Caribbean sunshine. That November, we beelined for Panama, our jumping off point leading into 2020’s great Pacific adventure.

But, how to review these epic three years without repeating ourselves or writing the world’s longest entry? In lieu of some sort of longwinded summary, we’ve opted to consider our life with Serenity First through two specific lenses – first, our trip in numbers, and second, our trip’s superlatives.

Our Stats

We love numbers and hope you do to. We’ll start with the easy stuff, our totals and records. I’m not-so-secretly pleased that we set records on all of our major passages – isn’t that nice and tidy?

Total distance travelled: 19,158nm (31/3/2018 – 5/11/2020)
Max boat speed (log): 10.1kts (Atlantic crossing)
Max boat speed (GPS): 14.1kts (Atlantic crossing)
Most miles sailed in 24 hours: 183nm (Tahiti to Fiji)
Most miles covered in 1 week: 1,159nm (Grenada to Panama)
Max wind speed under sail: 41kts (Gibraltar Straits)
Largest fish caught: ~130lb yellowfin tuna (Pacific crossing)
ROI of fishing equipment: in the end… positive!
Total # of green flashes seen: 10 (including 1 double!)
Total # of blog posts: 110 (!!)
Hours spent trying to upload photos on crappy internet: Often never-ending

What the above doesn’t capture, however, is the change in the nature of our cruising experience. So I dug back into our summary post for the Med, where I did a bit of analysis on how we spent our time that year, to see how our preferences and priorities have changed. I’ve done the same analysis for the Pacific as a comparison, charts below! Now, admittedly a bit of the difference is structural (distance between spots, availability of protected anchorages, number of marinas/mooring fields) but a lot is due to changes in how we approached cruising life.

How we spent our nights:

Some notable highlights: though we covered more ground in the Pacific, we visited FAR fewer places – less than half as many. And that was by design! We fully learned how to put “Serenity First” and so in the Pacific took our time, enjoyed places for longer, waited for the best weather windows and were generally much happier and less stressed than that first year in the Med.

Another big change is how much more time we spent not attached to the shore (i.e. at anchor or on a mooring ball). When we first started, I felt very nervous and unsure at anchor, and so was always agitating for marina / quay time. But as we grew, I came to more and more love being away from shore (fewer bugs, better swimming off the boat, less noise and more privacy, etc.). In fact, I started to feel more secure at anchor than on a dock, since I trusted our ground tackle so fully. So by the time we hit the Pacific islands, being at anchor or on a ball were by far our preference. We found mooring balls plentiful amongst the islands (part of a push in the Pacific to reduce anchoring and thereby protect the sea bed), so used them more than I might have expected.

Finally, I’m proud to see that, even though we covered more miles, we used about 30% fewer engine hours in the Pacific than the Med. That means we sailed significantly more – a testament to the growth in our skill as sailors and the benefits of waiting for good weather windows that allowed us to use the power of the wind and avoid motoring. Cheaper, more comfortable and more environmentally friendly. Win!

Best Of: Highlights from Three Years on the Water

We posed a few questions to ourselves on our favourite things from the trip, in order to determine some of its very best aspects. These are our top picks!

Favourite local beer?
A: Hinano in Tahiti was a welcome relief after so many months of crappy Panama lager (Hinano was also the best brand logo of our trip). Shout out to West Indies Brewery in Grenada as best taproom we’ve visited.
L: I loved Fix from Greece – a widely available craft beer that always hit the spot! Special mention to the passion fruit rum from the Pari Pari distillery in Taha’a, French Polynesia, which, though not a beer, was one of the most delicious tipples we discovered on our travels!

Food you most wish you could have again?
A: Doubles for breakfast followed by the veggie roti for lunch from the lady outside Peakes Boatyard in Trinidad.
L: For me, it has to be freshly caught conch. Alec learned how to get them out of their shells and I learned how to make fritters – mmmm those were some good meals!

Favourite country or island group visited?
A: The Leeward Islands in French Polynesia combined so many of the best parts of cruising in a varied and enchanting set of islands that truly allowed you to match your environment to what you wanted to get out of the next week.
L: It’s a toss up between the Grenadines in the Caribbean and Panama’s San Blas islands. In both, we saw a huge variety of wildlife in gorgeously clear waters and even some healthy coral, and we were lucky enough to have friends and/or family around us to share the expiences.

Best anchorage?
A: Whitehouse Bay on St Kitts was so magical that Laura ended up making a video in celebration (see below). It was protected from the trade winds, with activities above and below the water, plenty of room and a bar with a great view of the green flash – what more do you need?
L: I loved the little bay next to Papetoai, just West of Opunohu in Moorea, French Polynesia. Clear, calm waters, beautiful sunrises, and some amazing restaurants and wildlife spots all in easy reach by dinghy. A place I could happily get stuck!

Unforgettable town / other mooring spot?
A: Bonifacio on Corsica is a truly unique place that shows its best side to those who visit by boat – an entrance that only appears from the cliff face as you get close, where you can rub shoulders with the superyachts for a fraction of the price and enjoy a fantastic example of a historic European town.
L: Corfu Town was the first place we stopped after leaving Croatia, and it still retains the top spot in my books. The unexpectedly inexpensive marina was tucked underneath the historic Venetian fort (now a music school) and full of friendly cruisers, and the pretty town was a maze of cute shops and delicious restaurants. 10/10!

The one that got away (place you wish you could go back for longer?)
A: We didn’t get nearly enough time in Turkey and there was so much more coast line to explore past Gocek that we’ve been told gets even more special – like Greece, you probably need at least a season there to experience it fully.
L: The Tuamotus! Our short stopover in To’au was a dream, and one that I would have liked to revel in much, much longer. The utter remoteness combined with the vibrancy of life underwater was truly spectacular. (See also below about smoking fish in To’au with the Danes!)

One thing you did that you previously woudn’t have thought you could do?
A: Chopping off the top of my finger whilst maintaining the outboard engine was definitely something I didn’t think I could do – I now realise I am more than capable of this feat.
L: I definitely wouldn’t have backed myself to solo/skipper that piece of the passage to Fiji when Alec was unwell, so I’m rather pround of managing that!

Coolest in-water experience?
A: Catching fish by herding them into a net in To’au and then building a smoker to cook them with all the various Danish cruisers we had met there, then feeding the scraps to the baby black tip sharks.
L: Its so hard to choose! I think ultimately it has to be swimming with the manta rays in Maupiti. They are awesome creatures, and to be able to just jump off the back of our boat and swim over to them was too cool. But very close second is swimming with the humpback whales in Moorea!!

Any particularly special little moments of joy?
A: The (not uncommon) discovery that a random spare part we had decided to keep from a previous year was now the perfect solution for a current maintenance issue – I could make a compelling Priceless Mastercard advert on this very subject.
L: The delight of unexpectedly running into old cruising friends in a new place was the best. It was a special kind of joy spending time together catching up, sharing stories and adventures since we last met.

Everyday aspect of boat life you miss/will miss most?
A: Sunsets over water as a recurring event became very special and epitomised how spoiled we were for natural beauty (as well as signalling when I was allowed to start my daily beer ration).
L: Sunsets were also a favourite for me, but especially for the simple ritual of sitting down together, sharing a snack or a drink, and talking about plans for the next day. There was a lot of joy in those little moments.

Best vista/view?
A: A draw between the gates of the Panama Canal opening to reveal the Pacific Ocean for the first time and the summit of the mountain in Maupiti that gave a near 360 degree panorama of this secluded coral ringed paradise.
L: I particularly loved the view of Opunohu and Cooks bays from the belvedere in Moorea, which for me really typified the “lost jungle paradise” romantic idea I had of the South Pacific. But, I also just really loved the ever-changing view from the back of the boat at anchor; I could look at the blues of the ocean and sky forever.

A cultural tradition you especially liked / valued?
A+L: We both felt the same on this one: being able, and even expected, to say hello to people as you pass, which was true across the Pacific islands (with either a friendly “Ia orana” in French Polynesia or an exuberant “Bula!” in Fiji). We loved how welcoming and open their cultures were!

Summing up

As we approached the end of our trip, the MIT alumni association serendipitously reached out to us, offering us the opportunity to share some reflections on our journey. They made the below video from our interview, a timely tribute to our journey that we’ll cherish, which I think nicely sums it up.

Part II: Impact

Obviously we had a lot of fun on our three years galavanting around the globe, but our journey impacted us deeply on a number of fronts. Alec and I took a step back and reflected on how we’ve changed through this trip; spoiler: we think its entirely for the better.

A: Cruising with Laura for three years has certainly given me a very different perspective on life and one that I am truly grateful for. I’ve learned more during this time than I have during any other period of my life and we’ve catalogued many of those learnings in previous posts on this blog. Summarising them is certainly not an easy task, but perhaps can be done by considering life through a sporting lens:

• Life can be a team sport, if you want it to be
  Laura is the best teammate I could ever need, and we’ve now forged a resilient partnership that has repeatedly demonstrated that we are more than the sum of our parts. Also, having the humility to ask for help from those around us almost always paid off in some way.
  
• Life is a full contact sport, and it pays to look after yourself
  I have on many occasions been reckless and have a newfound appreciation for how quickly things can go wrong, and what I might be giving up if they do.
  
• Complaining to the referee won’t change anything
  Whilst bitching about how unfair things are can feel good, it was never as effective as just accepting the new reality and working out how best to deal with it.
  
• Everyone makes mistakes, but the best players don’t repeat them
  We often beat ourselves up for mistakes that only became obvious after the fact, when all that really mattered was making sure we avoided them in future
  
• It’s best to have a backup plan in case you get punched in the mouth
  We occasionally ended up running a Plan D or E when things really went against us, and switching to these was made far easier when we avoided wedding yourself too tightly to the original plan

L: This trip has been a reality check – but in a good way. There is this construct of what you think life is that comes from the ease of city living with a good job in a first world country, and then there is real life – and what is really important in life.

I thought I learned to fail at MIT, but I realise now that wasn’t really failing. I could feel disappointed in myself, but nothing particularly bad could happen; life at sea is different – the stakes are significantly higher. You have to learn to be on the ball, as even little things can be very important. For example, when we first launched the boat all the way back in Croatia, I had forgotten to tighten any of the hose clamps on the pipes coming off the through hulls. That means, water could leak in, in many places, through the bottom of the boat. Its not a complete impossibility that the boat could’ve sunk had the yard guys not suggested we double check before they removed the slings. But you learn quick!

I also did not understand the true meaning of resliance and self-reliance before this trip. I’ve shared this before in our posts, but it is the most profound experience of this trip for me and so bears repeating. When Alec became worryingly unwell on our passage to Fiji, I had to step in and quasi-single hand for the last few days to get us to land. Many people have said kind words to me about being able to do that, but I’ve discovered that I don’t see it as an achievement per se – it’s just part of the reality of life on the ocean. You’re out there on your own with very little in the way of support; typically its days, not hours or minutes away, and even then what you’ve most likely got are fellow sailors, not some fancy ER/A&E team. You can’t just “pull over” on the side of the road and wait for a tow truck. There is no throwing in the towel. Nope, you just have to figure it out yourself and get on with it. And that’s okay; in fact, that’s life. And it taught me that you can do a hell of a lot more than you realise – and it is worth trying. Because its pretty cool to see yourself succeed in tough situations. It makes me believe in myself more than I ever could have before, as cheesy as that may be, and I am a stronger person as a result.

And Alec and I are a much stronger team. There is no denying that sailing across oceans and around remote areas puts strain on a relationship, but I have gained an enormous amount of appreciation for Alec as a partner. His ability to stay cool and think clearly in tricky situations is awe-inspiring. He takes everything in his stride so easily. There’s weather coming that we didn’t expect? No problem, we’ll work it out. Something critical has broken? No worries, we’ll deal with it. He is a rock. To know that we can rely on each other so fully is quite special, and I think will make the challenges of land life seem a breeze. Its quite exciting to think about tackling future projects together, knowing that we can manage pretty much anything!

Overall, the takeaway for me is that the things that caused me stress in our pre-boat life were just not that big. They didn’t merit the worry I felt. I now understand what and who are really important in my life and worth putting time into, and I look forward to a happier and more fulfilling future as a result.

Part III: What’s Next?

A: We started this trip looking for an adventure and used this blog as a way of documenting it – casting our eyes back over the posts of the last three years has been a wonderful way of fully grasping the scale of the voyage that found us and we are so grateful that we saw this opportunity, could afford to take it, and did so with the support of all our friends and family. Now that our time with Serenity First has come to an end, we find ourselves routinely fielding the logical question “so, what’s next?” (we think with the assumption that having had so much time to think about it that there would be a carefully laid plan). 

In fairness, the Alec who set sail in 2018 would certainly have felt uncomfortable without a clear plan, but one of the (we think beneficial) side-effects has been a growing familiarity with a more flexible mindset, and this is reflected in our somewhat unstructured views on the coming months and years. We know that we want to spend some time reconnecting with friends and family, living in a single place (without restrictions on hot water), and taking advantage of all the other benefits of a life ashore. We also both want to re-enter the world of work, but are each keen to explore different areas / employment models that we hope will maintain some of the flexibility that we have come to enjoy so much. We also know that we want to put down some proper roots in the next few years and find a long-term land base that we can shape to fit our somewhat non-conformist lifestyle.

In the short-term, that means returning to our flat in London so that we can weather the (hopefully) final months of the COVID crisis and connect with friends and work opportunities where possible. That could well occupy us for most of 2021, but we suspect by the end of the year we will be looking to relocate to somewhere with a bit more green space and finding this spot is one of the projects we are most excited about starting on next year. 

The question of whether we will ever return to the sea is one we truly don’t know how to answer at the moment, and all we can say is that after the last three years it is an option that will always be difficult to turn down. Thank you to everyone who followed our journey and gave us so much support – it has been a monumental effort to keep this blog updated and your encouragement was key to maintaining our motivation, such that we now have a beautiful record of this once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

But all of this has been ignoring what should have been the focus of this section on a blog titled Life with Serenity First – what is next for Serenity First herself. We are pleased to announce that Serenity has been bought by another cruiser couple – Steve and Carol from New Zealand. They have been cruising on yachts for the last 40 years, and featured prominently in the Kiwi press when their previous yacht Harlech was stolen by some fugitives trying to escape to Australia. Their plans are, Covid permitting, to prep Serenity for cruising in Fiji waters prior to sailing her home to Opua, NZ at the end of the season. Visits and return-trip crewing will hopefully be possible for their son, daughter and grandchildren all of whom have various levels of boating experience. They then plan to explore some of the more distant areas like the South Island Sounds, and possibly on to New Caledonia for winter.

Since buying the boat from us, they have been forced to endure a category 5 cyclone warning that at one point looked like it was going to track directly over the yard where Serenity is being stored. But thankfully the combination of our prep work with a northward shift in the cyclone’s track in the final hours meant that Serenity has pulled through unscathed.

We couldn’t be happier knowing that Serenity’s adventures will not end with our ownership in 2020, and that she will have the opportunity to continue her travels with a couple that will fully appreciate what makes her so special. We wish them fair winds and following seas, and hope that they get to start their adventures without any further delays or cyclones. 

Serenity – we will never forget you…