“Oh Catherine, no…†Disappointment and a touch of nausea color my dad’s tone. It’s 2011, the night after I have returned from an MBA spring break trip. I am in Manhattan on my way to dinner and have just called my parents to breathlessly tell them about my vacation. More accurately, to tell them that I have met a guy. A guy that I REALLY like. He is a sailor. He lives in North Carolina. And I am going to visit him the next weekend. All the trappings of a serious, long relationship, right? My father couldn’t be more proud. My mother politely informs me that spring break sailors are for having fun with – and of course I should! But come on, am I really going to try to see him again?
For me, this journey doesn’t begin with a lifetime dream of sailing around the world. It doesn’t stem from unquenchable wanderlust or a desire to break to the mold and do something completely different. At its core, this adventure starts with that spring break fling – and the unexpected love story that followed.
A friend from business school had called me; a group of classmates were going on some crazy trip called The Yacht Week and they had an open spot. The promise was a fleet of sailboats and groups of mid 20 to early 30 somethings that would island hop in the Caribbean for a week. None of us knew how to sail – most of us had never even been on a sailboat before. But after a year and a half of corporate recruiting events, we sure knew how to drink – and we were told that a skipper would join our boats. With that, 15 of us packed our bags and headed to the British Virgin Islands.
I met Will at the welcome mixer on the first night; he was one of the appointed skippers. He used a terrible line. He then chased me around the islands for a week. He even took me out on a proper date (an occurrence that I assure you is quite the departure from the standard Yacht Week courtship experience). After 7 days, I couldn’t help it. I was in love.
4 and a half years later, we are newly married. We have a great life in San Francisco with a wonderful group of friends, good jobs (me in management consulting, Will in tech) and the very palpable freedom – and disposable income – that comes from not having kids yet.
So naturally, we have decided to give that up. We are getting rid of our gloriously rent-controlled apartment. We have bought a 36-foot sailboat. And in about two months, we are going to set off for another, longer Caribbean adventure. There are a few people in our lives who think this trip is crazy – financially irresponsible, dangerous, a voyage that should wait until we are retired – and they may very well be right. I have no idea what this trip will bring. For full disclosure, the longest boat trip I have ever been on was when Will and I met. And I still don’t really know how to sail…
But I am excited. I am more excited to do this than anything I have ever done before. I am excited to take a risk and challenge myself in unexpected ways. Fix an engine. Maneuver a boat in a squall. Be outside all day, everyday instead of toiling over power point presentations and running meetings. But more than anything, I am excited to spend a year helping this sailor of mine fulfill a dream that he’s had since long before he met me.
Am I nervous? Yes. Sometimes I’m completely terrified. What if the reality of living on a boat is awful? What happens when we get into a fight and there isn’t enough room in our 36-foot home to have the distance from each other that we will likely crave? What if we get incredibly bored without the city stimulus?
Or what if we love it and don’t want to come back to our “real†lives?
I do not know. But I will let you know how it goes along the way.
And in case you are curious, here are a few gems from our journeys until today:
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