Minnerversary #4: Sweet Surrender in Sint Maarten

May 5th marks 4 years we've been with Minerva. Sometimes it feels like a hundred years ago that we were responsible homeowning adults commuting to work every day. Sometimes it feels like yesterday.

We've met many amazing people on the water. Some we run into again and again in our travels, some don't stay on the water for long. Not everyone is cut out for this lifestyle. I've noticed that those that stick with it for the long term have perfected the art of bending without breaking. The folks that must control their environment quickly learn that this is not the life for them or learn to surrender some control and work within the limitations of the day.

The volcano at St. Eustatius (pronounced Stay-Sha) holds court over the anchorage

Our friends Janet and Joe in Oriental NC introduced us to the concept of the No Plan Plan at a time when we were coming completely undone by our first year of Minerva maintenance failures. I still struggle with the No Plan Plan. I am a control freak. I make plans and expect to stick to them.

But sailing doesn't work that way. The wind won't cooperate. The parts are unobtainable. The professional you hired doesn't show up on time and won't return your phone calls. The skies won't cooperate -  it will surely dump rain the day you booked the welding work. Medical situations pop up at the most inconvenient moments. Boat insurance policies place seemingly arbitrary limitations on your travel plans. Bureaucracy and politics in general often place obstacles in your way. The mail won't work where you are, or it's prohibitively expensive. You can't get the groceries you want. You can't find the type of food you want at the local restaurants or they aren't open today despite their printed hours. The internet and phone connection is sometimes a challenge. You can't use all the fresh water you wish. You can't always get to an airport, a rental car, sometimes even getting to shore is impossible. You can't access the friends and the family that you want. The basic freaking high-count thread cotton sheets that you want don't exist in any of the islands you've approached - and you've  looked in every home goods store you found for the last 6 months.

Cannon at Brimstone Hill Fortress in St Kitts

The sailors that can move past these things and laugh anyways have become the true masters of flexibility. We're not there yet but we're learning.

Can't talk to your best friend? Wave the bag of ice you just bought at the strangers you just met and invite them over for a sundowner. You can't consume all that ice before it melts anyways so share the wealth. They dinghied past you to check in with the customs agent, they look tired and their boat probably doesn't have an ice maker either, they also probably just came in from a long sail. Make the crew a cocktail. Listen to their sailing stories. It might be not the sister or the best friend whose company you are missing; new friends are cool too.

The Grand Parade at Carnival St Maarten

Can't go where you want? Go where the wind takes you. Or stay where you are. Or fire up the engine and bash into it. Whatever plans you concocted yesterday don't have to be written in stone, you can change your mind to follow today's weather whims. An experienced sailor told us "when it's time to go, I just go, and I can be really quite rude about it". This conversation happened just a couple of days before he failed to show up for the dinner we cooked for him in Annapolis, and we found out days later he had caught a weather window to Maine.

Mural facing Marigot Bay, on the French Side of St. Martin

Lance had some foot medical drama to deal with, best done in California by the specialists that already know him. Somebody needed to stay with the dog and the boat. So we sailed Minerva back to St. Maarten where friends and resources are plentiful, access to boat supplies is easy and the technicians are top-notch. I worked through some big projects we were going to hire done in Trinidad anyways. Lance is getting back on two feet, Minerva got some big projects done a little earlier than planned and we (hopefully) play more/work less this hurricane season. We'll have to high-tail it to Trinidad so it's not the lovely slow tour of the Caribbean we had planned, but that's OK, we'll catch the things we missed on the way back up. I'm learning to surrender the plan and work within the day's limitations. There is peace in surrender.

Chloe loves to frolic on the beach at every opportunity

We had the most amazing sail back from St. Kitts to St. Maarten, and we both hold that memory close until we can share the next perfect sailing day together. That's the other side of this coin. Good preparations often make for smooth sailing, and now and then the most perfect moments are gifted to the persistent sailor. There are days when the wind is cooperative, the waves are minimal, the breeze is cool and the clouds or stars mirror the water so you and your vessel seem to float together in a magic bubble, outside of the rest of the world. Sometimes there are dolphins. Sometimes there are jaw-dropping views to sail past. Sometimes the water explodes with bioluminescence, trailing fireworks behind the boat's wake.

Those moments reward the struggle.

Shiny new standing rigging - done!