The Sailing Shipleys

One of the most common questions we received before departing on this sailing sabbatical was, “How do you stand living in such a small space together?”

The answer: it’s not easy.

Although we have lived aboard at a marina for a few years, living aboard while mostly at anchor presents separate challenges. When at a marina, it is easy to walk to town and sit in a coffee shop, alone; or take the car to visit a friend on the other side of town. When at anchor, you literally go everywhere together because to get to land you both take the same dinghy, share the same Uber, go on the same grocery run…plus it’s much easier to prevent Moses from making a leap of faith into the water with the extra person to contain his glee for land and a walk.

Jolene does not offer many places to hide away. She has the v-berth (our main bedroom) when it is not being used as storage while underway, the bow (again, only viable in calm seas or while at anchor), the cockpit, or the head (yes, I have indeed hidden in the head to get some space from Jimmy).

So, when we arrived in Miami three weeks ago, we had plans to get some time alone and space between us. In the first week, I traveled to Chicago to celebrate my birthday with my sister and meet our new nephew. In the second week, Jimmy traveled to Denver for a bachelor party (Congrats Andy and Sami!)

Time away from Jolene and one another was and remains necessary. It allows both of us to reset, take a breath, and remind ourselves why we’re doing this. It literally grounds us. In this case, we had the added bonus of seeing good friends and family. We have learned that sometimes, we just need some space. Maybe that’s an hour to read uninterrupted or an afternoon on land at a cafe. Maybe it’s a longer hiatus. We have begun to schedule in weekly time away from each other, and especially time on land for Tory, to preempt the desperation to just get off the dang boat!

Sometimes, though, being alone can remind us just as well how we must work as a team, complement our strengths and weaknesses, in both sailing and our life. When Jimmy was away, a string of thunderstorms clobbered south Florida with 30-40kt winds. This meant Tory and Moses weathered the storm in a completely exposed anchorage, keeping long anchor watches through the night to ensure we did not drag into another boat. Jimmy called Tory the evening before to help her prep and constantly the next morning as the worst of the storm blew through. Good thing we upgraded to a 45lb Mantus anchor, what some call “the best anchor in the world.” Even though we likely needed more chain out and could have put the boat behind a sand bar to lessen the waves (or fetch as it’s called) we didn’t drag and gained a lot of confidence in our anchor system.

Time away means that when we are together, we can be the best versions of ourselves, that we can appreciate the other person and all they have to offer. We can communicate better, key to successful sailing, not take correction personally, and be open to learning from each other. This doesn’t mean we always get along – far from it! But it does set us up for success. Time away means that a 37ft sailboat doesn’t feel so small after all.