Parenting on a Boat, Missed Petroglyphs and Annaberg Sugar Plantation.

Omana moored in Francia Bay on at. John, USVI. 

I've been wanting to write for a couple of days but, as in Chicago, I struggle to carve time out for my own reflections. Our wonderful therapist Klaus introduced me to the concept of "uninfluenced time." It's time where I get to choose what to do, think, not do, and so on. I have probably been hungry for uninfluenced time since I was born. Maybe we all are? I know the choice to remain school-free as a family has a lot to do with safe-guarding more uninfluenced time for the next generation. As an adult and parent, it takes a lot of discipline to create that space for myself, without falling into someone else's agenda. With children I feel constantly influenced, with a demand for flexibility so great that I can seldom finish a thought, or a sentence without interruption (I just had to take care of Sasha who couldn't find a piece of gum he was chewing a moment ago because he "opened his mouth and it was gone." We found it.) 

Calm moments do happen, they are just totally imprevidible.

This week, life aboard Omana has felt like a heightened experience of infinite interruptions, negotiations and redirections (mostly of the kids' energies), with nowhere to go but the boat or a new place that requires spirit of adventure and a lot of co-regulation of the young ones (that looks like snacks, water, play, stories, keeping skin protected from the sun and the no-see-ums, and more.) There have been some tough evenings, like last night when both children were crying in our cabin at bedtime because I wasn't being patient and slow and gentle in my reading (getting them into bed had taken the last of all of those energies in me and I was practically fuming.) David took over from me while I took a few minutes to recharge in the dinette (living area) of the boat. I don't like when things get dark like that, it takes a lot of work not to be hard on myself. It was a helpful low though: today we are talking about how to create routines where the children are at the center of our planning as much as possible, particularly looking for other families boating around. I’m also working towards taking some time to myself daily.

I share these details because they are a large part of being on Omana. This adventure doesn't feel like a vacation, more like an intensified version of being with family, with the added incognita of… everything else. So much comes up of our patterns and tendencies. We are doing well overall, but the need for more community and support is strong for me.

Lameshur Bay on St. John.

That tiny dot at the top is the moon. We started our travels as it was waning and it’s now growing daily. 

Apart from managing all the emotional turmoil above, over the last few days we have had two special walks. We went back to Lameshur Bay, where we had been earlier in our travels, and took a very ambitious hike in search for some ancient petroglyphs on the island of St. John. Spoiler: we took a wrong turn and didn't make it to the petroglyphs. But I am grateful for David’s leadership in taking our family on land adventures. He provides 90% of the enthusiasm and activation energy to get us going, as well as the physical power to carry Sasha when he’s tired. Here are some wonderful plants and animals we saw on our way, as well as a couple of views of Lameshur Bay.

This was on the way back to the boat, in the smaller of the two bays of Lameshur.

It took us two hours round trip. Sasha was carried by David for most of it!and by myself for a good uphill chunk. Ruben walked and walked —it’s delightful to have him along on these hikes. We were quite tired the next day, but luckily we met with a fun family with 3 children and Ruben and Sasha were off our hands playing with water guns and swimming in the water for hours. (This is the experience I want to repeat over and over and over again.)

The second special walk was also spearheaded by David, curious to visit the ruins of the Annaberg Sugar Plantation. We anchored at Francis Bay once again and made our way by foot to the ruins of the sugar plantation. 

Seeing these ruins reminds me of how I have a minimal understanding of the role played by colonization and enslavement in this part of the world. Walking among the sleeping quarters of the (at one point) more than 600 enslaved people on the plantation was deeply sad, it reminded me of a cemetary. We learned that the violence also happened to the land itself, as sugar cane was actually brought over by the colonizers, who built terracing to grow it. The land on St. John is actually very rocky, so the only way for the sugar cane to remain alive was through constant watering and fertilizing (mostly done by enslaved women and children.) 

The hills around the ruins are now green with plants that have taken over the terraces, but we also learned that most of the old growth was harvested by the British and others, who used precious woods like mahogany for trade and other wood to build and to repair boats. So much violence on the land. I was grateful for the two National Park volunteers we met who shared some of this history, as well as some book titles and information about how the factory worked (this was the only factory who produced all three products of sugar cane: raw sugar, molasses, and rum.) Wendy, one of the volunteers, reminded me of the website slavevoyages.org. If you haven’t seen this timelapse of boats carrying enslaved people across the Atlantic, it’s a powerful visual representation of that heartbreaking traffic. Seeing Annaberg also made me reflect on the plight of sugar consumption that we have in our world today. My heart aches at the thought of the extended suffering caused by an activity so violent at its very core.

Omana in Francis Bay.

Today we left the USVI and came to the island of Tortola in the British Virgin Islands. The crossing had some really intense waves and wind, we had to motor all the way up. Sasha was ecstatic, holding on to a tiny speaker that played a theme song from "Pirates of the Caribbean" on repeat. Ruben spent the crossing lying in the dinette, studying his favorite tuna drawing. We went through a ridiculously long customs process (thank you Michelle and Olivier who were able to stay behind as we brought our children over to a tiny Italian restaurant for lunch. If you're ever in Road Town we recommend "Fantasia Giorgio's." Strange name, but good Italian food with a chef/owner from Milano.) 

Nonna Titta’s partner is Giorgio, so we took a photo of this little plate with Ruben. Ciao Giorgio!

There have been some lovely evenings filled with music. Ruben and Olivier are going strong with a guitar&cello version of "Angel from Montgomery." I’ve attempted to pick up the ukulele and sing and play some, with very kind and supportive crew around me. Tomorrow is David's birthday and I'm hoping to attempt another cake on the boat. I've been watching him learn to be on the boat more and more and I feel moved by his focus and progress. I’m also grateful for his steadiness and ability to collaborate and plan with grace and deep calm. Sometimes I look at him at the helm in disbelief. 15 years ago I would not have imagined to see him so connected to wind and water.

On the 8th we sailed back to Red Hook to pick up a few more pieces, including a transformer for our butane tank (European) so that we may refill with propane on this side of the Atlantic. We had a wonderful sail on a broad reach with big waves and another attempt at fishing.

Olivier installed holders for fishing rods on either side of Omana. We haven’t caught anything yet, but it’s exciting every time the line is in the water.

Thank you for reading — we miss you. Please send us emails with news if you get a chance. We would love to hear from you.

With love,

Bici

Birds, Birthday and Jamming

The days move quickly and most evenings I am too tired to sit down and write. This afternoon I am stealing 20 minutes for a short update. Lots has happened in the past four days. On March 2nd we discovered we were in a prime bird watching spot. If you look up Francis Bay, St. John, you will see a swampy area right behind the beach.

The swampy water behind the beach. Omana is on a mooring ball in the background.

David and I worked some serious morning magic and were able to get our whole family over to the beach by about 8.30a, with snacks and water too! It was no mean feat, especially considering the large amounts of tai-chi energy required to transform the children's initial resistance to transitioning onto land (at some point, I might get around to writing a whole blog about the challenge of any transition with Ruben and Sasha: jumping into the water when they are getting too hot, going on an excursion to get a little time on land, shifting from chasing and tying up/locking up Michelle to having some time in the shade. We are very happy to have been following their lead in our parenting techniques. Very happy until we aren't anymore.)

The bird watching tour was a sound art immersion. There were so many cooing doves and singing birds. The air was humid and the tree cover at the beginning of the walk was magical. We saw several lovely birds and were constantly chased by noseeums (the smallest of all gnats, almost invisible: 1-4mm long.) That kept us moving. 

We also found a hermit crab way up on the side of a hill. I didn't realize they were into hiking around. 

Part of the walk took us to the ruins of the last sugar factory constructed on St. John. The factory was built by George Francis (hence the name of the bay?) who was born enslaved on the Annaberg Plantation and after spending his youth and early adulthood working on the plantation, became a landowner in 1862. The photo below has more details.

We saw a similar story two days later, at another property called The Windmill. It has me wondering about the history of the USVI and what it looked like here for Black people when they became free. I will be looking for resources on the topic and would appreciate any tips.

Sunset in Waterlemon Bay.

The 3rd was my 39th birthday and it turned out to be one of my favorite days on the boat yet. Nothing broke, chores were put on hold for myself, there was a lot of sweet words and generous gift giving from Ruben and Sasha, and some delightful celebrating in the evening. I baked myself a delicious cake, going back and forth to the oven to try and keep the temperature at 325 degrees. Eventually I passed the task on to Michelle and Olivier and got to go on a sweet family ride to explore our surroundings. Ruben decorated the cake and put in the candles — a first.

In the photo above: my birthday gifts. From Ruben: his 4th best drawing of a tuna, signed and laminated. 4th out of 7. From Sasha: a beeswax heart, a ship drawn by him and that super kitsch mermaid toy which Ruben found on the beach and Sasha coveted and inherited. Now it’s mine because when I was younger I loved being a mermaid. 

Morning rainbow in Waterlemon Bay.

We were staying in Waterlemon Bay and loved snorkeling there,  all around the tiny island on the North side of the bay. The evening was a party, with our friends Katy and Craig joining us for cake and candles, and Ruben and Olivier jamming together with guitar and cello. 

On the 4th we attended a wonderful Jam Festival at the Windmill. Pictures of the venue and view to follow. We danced in between rain showers and stayed until after sunset. It felt magical and unexpected. We're going back this evening for a second taste (and the last evening of the festival.)

I have been curious about what you all are thinking and wondering about when you read these entries. Please write to me if you have any questions you'd like me to address. I still haven't figured out how to turn comments on, which would probably be the easiest thing. Overall we are doing well. A little more tired depending on how much emotional regulation is necessary for Ruben and Sasha. Still wondering about where we will head next and waiting for some more parts. We ran out of butane for our stove on the 3rd (just in time to make the cake!) and David has been getting really good at microwaving eggs. Below are some examples of the earliest tries. He has since mastered the Poached Egg: 1min 10 secs on setting 7, one egg covered in water with the yolk pierced to prevent explosions.

Hugs and hurrays,

Bici

Back to Red Hook, then Back to St. John

On February 27th we returned to Red Hook Marina to take care of a few things - shopping, refueling, and charging our batteries to 100% in an attempt to get them to work properly (there seems to be a problem that will likely require someone from France to come and look at the boat themselves.) That said, it's been amazing to observe how much trouble shooting Olivier has been able to move through, in large part thanks to FaceTime and other internet communication techniques, but mainly thanks to the fact that he speaks FRENCH! We feel very lucky to have him onboard.

The morning of the 27th in Caneel Bay on St. John, before heading back to Red Hook.

The day at the Marina was very busy and tiring. Less than a day, just an evening and a morning spent provisioning and running various errands. In general, marinas aren't fun: they are hot, full of mosquitoes, busy and expensive. My favorite part about Red Hook are the many pelicans that fly around and fish all around the boats — they are  beautiful and kind of goofy. We also enjoyed eating at a restaurant called Easterly, 

When we get to a harbor we've made an agreement with Ruben and Sasha that we can shop for souvenirs, and this makes the experience of it all less stressful for them. They actually look forward to disembarking. The main boundary is that we can purchase things that fit in our hands, so that they are easy to carry and travel with (it's a soft boundary... Sasha purchased a full pirate set last time. Definitely not travel size.) On the evening of the 27th we returned to the same shop we had visited the last time we were in Red Hook, a family owned place of wonders, with t-shirts, postcards, toys, and these amazing fake food stress balls which we landed on  (except Sasha, who went for a toy air-craft carrier.) I've learned to enjoy watching the kids go about their shopping and I'm always surprised at how carefully they consider an object, comparing it to another, figuring out if its worth it, and then delighting in it so fully. Sasha often asks me to shop for something for myself (although he specifies it should be a shareable toy) and I'm generally resistant, but I've decided to try and go with it. 

When we left Red Hook caught a mooring ball in Hawksnest Bay, on Saint John (anchoring is prohibited in the waters of the National Park.) We spent a very peaceful night there and David and Ruben did something they've never done before: they fell asleep together under the stars. The rain woke them a few hours later and so they moved back inside. It was pretty magical. I got to spend a few minutes with them, before going back "on duty" to lie next to Sasha. I look forward to all four of us sleeping under the stars someday.

The early mornings and the evenings/nights are the best times of the day. There are some really intense hours of heat and sun between 11 and 4.30p. Sasha is back to napping, which makes it easier on the whole boat. He has been swimming and sliding down poles and jumping on the bow's nets and rock climbing on the beach, and more. Our cello teacher, Ms. Jan, called him Mr. Monkey today and I thought it was right on. 

Sasha on the rocks.

Sasha and Ruben each have a drawer for their own things on the boat. Sasha has been saving a tiny oil container that he picked up on the plane ride to St. Thomas and this evening he saw me struggle with our large oil bottle and came to me with his tiny oil. It was so loving. He told me he had been waiting for someone to ask him for oil, but no one ever needed it and he thought it wasn't useful. Until then! He also has an array of tiny hard liquor bottles, just in case you come on board someday and need a drink. 

We have been dealing with a lot of mosquito bites and bites from other tiny insects that are hard to identify. I finally connected to the Kids4Sail group on Facebook and asked around for help. I'm wondering how people deal with this on a boat... maybe there are boat bed nets? Other than mosquitoes, our skin is doing pretty well. We prepared by taking Vitamin A/D/K for about two months before our travels and I notice a difference compared to past travels. 

I worry so much about hydration, sun exposure, mosquitoes, food, keeping the kids cool and a million other things and I've noticed it's absurd how hard it is for me to sit back and enjoy the beauty of the warmth and the sun. There is much undoing that needs to be done for me to be able to receive the pleasure of this experience. On that topic, it will be my birthday on March 3rd and I would like to apply some of the wisdom learned from adrienne marie brown in her book "Pleasure Activism" and see if I can open up to more unwinding. Looking up at the stars at night while listening to the crickets sing is a great starting point. 

One of our two paddle boards. You can barely see Ruben relaxing under one of our blue towels, just behind the paddle board. I try to use him as a model and just enjoy. Both Ruben and Sasha loving our time on Omana.

Today Olivier went about fixing a few more things around the boat. One of the fridge drawers wasn't closing properly (we discovered it was caused by a box of mint that had fallen in the back of the drawer.) We lost a clean sheet to the wind, but Michelle saw it and I retrieved it. Sheets sink in water, so it was an exciting 3 minutes. We listened to  Luis Sepulveda's "The Story of a Seagull and the Cat Who Taught Her To Fly." It made Ruben laugh, which made me happy. 

Ruben listening to the audiobook in the hottest part of the day.

Ruben, David, Michelle and Olivier found a beautiful little reef and Olivier took some great underwater pictures. Michelle, Olivier and the boys identified what they saw right around dinner time and it was a beautiful  marine biology moment. Michelle helped get a delicious dinner together and we tried to eat peacefully while Ruben and Sasha ran around, laughing and arguing and making up games and teasing each other. 

Tonight’s sunset with “Omini,” the dinghy, in the foreground. Omini has a great engine and has been an important part of our adventures, so here’s a photo.

Tonight we’re sleeping in Francis Bay. We saw some large deer on the beach. And tiny fish jumping out of the water, escaping something larger. At night, we sometimes catch glimpses of large tarpons with luminous eyes. Over the next few days we plan to circumnavigate St. John. We need to go back to Red Hook one last time to pick up some packages and final replacements, and then we will head north to the British Virgin Islands in the hope of catching a Northerly Wind to take us down towards the Lesser Antilles. Send us news of how you are doing if you're reading this -- we miss you. 

Testing the Parasailor

Today we tried our parasailor for the first time. I've never heard of this sail before and it's pretty wild looking. It's a combination of a parasail and a gennaker. It lives inside its "sock", and gets pulled out once it's been hoisted up, at which points it expands and gets filled by the wind. Similar to a spinnaker, but with an extra sail carved out of it. So beautiful. Ruben shrieked with pure delight when he saw it. We all ooooh-ed and aaaaah-ed. It's made with the same super light nylon material of parachutes and has a wonderful way of billowing out. 

Still from our friend C’s footage.

Still from Michelle’s footage.

Our family and all of Omana's crew are slowly getting into a little more of a rhythm. We're on day 11 and Sasha's mood has been improving exponentially. The first week was especially tiring and difficult for him, which made me especially tired and difficult.

On the topic of children, David informed me there's a group on Facebook that goes by "Kids4Sail" and I look forward to getting in that chat and learning from more experienced families. So far, the key to our own balance and wellbeing is “more people.” Ideally people who like children and are willing to sit through a game of Mastermind after dinner or excited to draw with markers while we're sailing in close reach (when the most heeling happens.) We have met two such wonderful people already, who are sailing on a Neel47. I'll refer to them as K&C until I get their permission to share their names. They're a lovely couple, willing to connect to us all and share their knowledge and resources. It's really quite special to have someone else to be in relationship with while out at sea.

K&C over for dinner a couple of nights ago. Ruben playing cello and Sasha playing the recorder up on the steps.

It's been strange hearing about the news of Ukraine's invasion while being on a pleasure adventure like ours. Lots of heartbreak and grappling with the violence taking place and its ramifications into the future. Everyday we read the news and talk about it with each other, supporting how we can from a distance, yet we still have to take care of our batteries (we have been having an ongoing problem with the solar panels) and continue with our ongoing problem solving and decision making.

I am trying to understand for myself how to remain connected with the larger political issues in our world without loosing the opportunity to be present in this special moment of our lives. This is similar to how I feel when we are in Chicago, but life on a boat demands my full presence much more so then while living in a major city in the US. There's still a lot for us to take care of to get the boat in shape for cruising, and then there's the regular load of parenting and staying alive. Most issues revolve around the children and food: what to offer Ruben and Sasha so that they don't get stir crazy on the boat? Are there any children playing on that beach who could buy us a couple of hours of "playground" time? How can we plan meals according to what we have in our fridge and freezer without having to "run to the store" more than once every 3 or 4 days? What's the nearest good grocery store? We’re also doing cello classes on Zoom, which is both wonderful and surreal.

Thank you Ms. Janz from the Lincoln Park Suzuki School for sticking with us!

On Omana, there’s no routine: every day is different and dependent on the weather, necessary repairs, unexpected discoveries, and more. I rely pretty heavily on routine in Chicago, so it’s an adjustment to give into the rhythm of the boat and the everyday need to make a plan. Mostly it’s good, sometimes it’s tough. A sweet sense of shared surrendering while constantly choosing to make things work out.

The most exciting and beautiful times we've experienced so far come when we sail. They are also the most nerve wrecking with the children. While it's never a good idea to have a little human go overboard, it's especially not a good idea when we are sailing and maneuvering the boat is difficult and slow. So there goes my biggest nightmare. Fear notwithstanding (and with intelligent safety measures in action), Omana sails powerfully and beautifully. I got to be at the helm for the first time today and it was a lovely sensation. Focus and flow and breath. I grew up sailing and my relationship to sailboats is loaded with mixed feelings, but I've always enjoyed connecting to a boat at the helm and today I got to remember why. 

View of Lovango and Mingo Cay with St.Thomas in the background as we sailed back to our mooring off of Caneel Bay on St. John.

We miss both family and friends, and sometimes I wonder about our ambition to be gone through the end of April. But for now, we go on. We are doing well. The children are mostly overjoyed with life on a boat and David and I feel proud and connected.

Drawing of Little Tunny

Ruben:

“The Little Tuny is the smallest species of tuna in the world. That is also why it got its name: little tunny . I got inspired to draw it because when I was six I caught one in the Mediterranean. Here is the drawing that I made with Michelle. She did the first drawing with my help, then I traced it in black and colored it.”

St. John — Great Lameshur Bay, Virgin Islands National Park

A short photo essay with words by David:

Here on Omana it feels like the first day we were able to go out and explore. The 4 of us finally, for the first time, took the dingy for a little cruise and went into the National Park on a short trail through a little forest of cacti and sweet flowering plants, after which we climbed onto some rocks and explored tide pools the whole way back.

Yellow Fin & Fishing

Ruben and Sasha will share on this blog when they feel like it. Maybe David too. This post is dedicated to a proud moment for Ruben. He’d like to share a picture of a yellow fin tuna that he co-created with Michelle.

It took them several hours of research, following a YouTube tutorial, drawing, tracing and coloring. Ruben laminated the yellow fin and it’s now our first picture up on the boat. I hear it’s a good luck charm for our own fishing. 

On the topic of fishing, I’ll also share a photo of the impressive equipment Ruben and Olivier purchased for Omana in Red Hook. 

We’ve already learned that basic hoop sets (literally loops with fishing line attached, they’re at the top of this image in light blue) need to be modified with a better end piece — the leader. Yesterday while sailing we tried fishing and one of our lines came back to us with a missing leader and a small piece of seaweed attached, almost as if the fish had made a swap. Proper leaders are made in tougher materials, like stainless steel, or thick fishing line.