Raising kids on boats

Each age presents different challenges

We raised our children in a marina aboard our 55 ft brigantine. As live-aboard life is arguably most challenging for “mom”, it needed to be a labor of love to make it worthwhile. Luckily for me, it indeed was always that. Everything – water, food, laundry, kids  and all manner of miscellaneous stuff required for vessel or family – had to be hauled on a daily basis. No simple dock cart was appropriate for our domestic purposes. Investing in the largest Fearless Flyer Wagon of the day was propitious. Kids and gear together all jumbled in nicely.

Below decks as well as above had to be compulsively organized. My mother-in-law once commented on how this boating essential manifested in the children’s activities. “They are so neat! Their play creations are compact and carefully constructed. They build straight up!” Up on deck and quickly beyond the constraints of the playpen-like safety netting we’d neurotically woven through each stanchion encircled the entire boat – we instead taught them to be water-safe before they could walk – our children’s entertainment became more creative but no less inspired. The ratlines became the high dive, the crows nest the tree house, the furled headsail in the bow net the secret cave, the coach roof the wrestling mat, the raised main deck the ball field, the aft deck and cockpit the ideal children’s mess hall –simply sluice all the droppings out the scuppers with a deck bucket! As they got older, their sailing dinghy’s and shore boats took the place of bicycles and scooters as they engaged in childhood shenanigans such as fishing, snorkeling, and staging crab races on the jetty rocks, with a virtual suburbia of our marinas perpetually well stocked assortment of multinational live-aboard kids.

In inclement weather, we’d shower at the rough facilities in the working boat yard. But as we had carefully chosen the last slip in the last dock in the last marina closest to the cut to the open ocean – on a side tie, no less – we had atypical marina privacy.

Hitching a hose with a showerhead attachment

to our galley sink tap that ran off a 5-gallon hot water heater, we showered right on our dock in the shadow of our lofty yardarms. When the kids were babies, I bathed them right in the galley sink. As they got bigger, we used a large cooler, and then an even larger bait tank as a bathtub, complete with bubbles and floaty toys!

Fifty-five feet sounds deceptively large, and although it was plenty roomy enough for us, our beamy boat was constructed with a traditional center trunk cabin center, an  engine room aft,  and a focs’le forward.  The cabin housed my husband and my full bunk which doubled as the settee during the day, a large chart table which doubled as the entertainment center when not at sea, a galley with a diesel stove and an icebox, a small saloon table and benches which doubled as the crafts table, homework  nook,  and convertible second bunk for uninhibited sleepover guests. The focs’le was literally the children’s fore castle, outfitted and decorated as such, and they loved it, as they loved every bit of every ounce of life lived aboard.

Pamila Bitterman’s book, Sailing to the Far Horizon, details the four years she spent circumnavigating aboard the Schooner Sofia. Starting out as a novice, she worked her way up to ships Boatswain, and was First Mate, second in command, at the time of her final voyage. She holds a Merchant Seaman’s Ticket.

Click to find out more about Pamela and http://www.betterworldbooks.com/sailing-to-the-far-horizon-id-0299201902.aspxread excerpts from her book.

Will the Seafair Ever Return?

The two oil miniatures of Italian seaside scenes immediately captured my eye, and the more I looked at them the more I had to buy them. Chances are I never would have seen these paintings, or been exposed to works of the artist, Francis Gilbert, a 19th century French painter, had I not been invited aboard SeaFair last month for its maiden Newport appearance.

Marie Younkin-Waldman on board the Seafair

SeaFair graced Newport Harbor this summer with a floating art gallery housing twenty-eight exhibition spaces and gourmet indoor and open air restaurants complete with a caviar bar. The impressive 4-million-dollar craft with its graceful contours sails to ports and docks along the East Coast of the U.S. where affluent art lovers tend to spend their summers. She docked in quiet pomp on a smallish wharf that emphasized her imposing presence. There was a charge in the air as guests were met by the captain, his staff, and a photographer with a fanfare of clicks. Once on board, beyond the hubbub, the world of sound gave way to that of the eye, the imposing length of the corridor – almost as long as a football field – with galleries, each with its own design, flanked the length of the expansive corridor. To my relief, this really was a true “art” gallery and far above the level of what I’ve usually seen in my years of traveling on cruise ships. Anyone who has taken a cruise knows that the art auction is part of a ship’s daily life, like the gift shop, bingo and buffet dining. More often than not, I have struggled with the word, “art,” on board, as opposed to “decoration” as in a souvenir, a or charm bracelet one buys in the glow of a vacation. Too often, too, the word, “investment,” is a lure to a passenger. On a cruise ship, you can’t get off. You’re a captive audience, surrounded by a watery boundary, but SeaFair is more of a true art gallery which moves from one maritime location to another. I was impressed. Each gallery offered its own unique style and quality. The vendors were gracious, and sometimes, invisible. You could float down the corridor and enter each side world gallery and be surprised – Oriental art, glass works, traditional work in the style of old masters, fun new art, furniture …

The vendors and directors themselves sang the praises of the ship and its owner. Glenn Aber, owner of AiBo Fine Asian Art, loved being able to enjoy a fantasy voyage while taking his gallery along with him. David Brooker, of David Brooker Fine Art (who offered the two miniatures I had my eye on), told me that he was enjoying the bay of Newport, far from his homes in London and Connecticut. I smiled as he talked to me, glancing at the wall where Gilbert’s brushstrokes were still moving between the frames.
I didn’t buy them. My only hope is that they will not sell before the SeaFair returns, or perhaps I’ll venture to Greenwich where she docks from September 15th to the 19th.
By Vin Fraioli, author, and song writer

There’s a First time for everything

The tail of two dogs.

This is a story in two parts. This is part one. Next month we publish part two. If you are really curious and want to the rest of this story, email us for a copy.

You finally have that new boat; your family is excited, happy and ready to go out.  On a whim, you decide to take Rover, your five year old Retriever/Shepherd mix with you.  He’s so excited he pulls you down the dock, his claws making score marks in the dock’s wood.

When you get to the boat he leaps from the dock to the deck of the boat, hits the transom and balances precariously before pulling himself on board.  He proceeds to run from one end of the boat to the other while you and your family are about to realize your dream of going out on the water.

You manage to get out of the marina and start on your first voyage.  Everyone is excited, none so excited as Rover, so excited in fact, he starts to pee on the deck.

You are now rethinking of having Rover on board and really, thinking of giving Rover up… wait… let’s rewind.

You finally have that new boat, your family is excited, happy and ready to go out.  You decide to take Rover, your five year old Retriever/Shepherd mix with you.  You make sure he’s ID’d and micro-chipped, his medical records are with you and that you have a PFD for him.

You made sure that he is up-to-date on all his immunizations and that you know that, since you are going to a new area, you have a copy of his Rabies certificate and you know the name of an emergency veterinarian in the area where you’re going to be staying.

As you take him down the dock, he walks quietly beside you.  You have him sit and then after you pull the boat closer, you ask him to walk on board.  He stops and turns

and sits down on the seat in the cockpit, waiting patiently for you.

You call your dog to his mat, an old bathmat draped over one of the cockpit benches and he settles down for a nap while waiting for the boat to move away from the dock.

You smile as you look at him sleeping, watching the fur being ruffled by the light breeze caused by your passage out the channel toward your destination.

Why the differences between the “two” dogs?

Read the rest of the story in next month’s column.

Annie Sires is the owner of “A Thing for Dogs” and
the author of 40 Dog Gone Days: a self-guided journey
to a delightful home companion. She can be reached at
http://www.athingfordogs.com/