Something untoward is happening to my sleeping habits, all thanks to my dream machine: a small, seemingly harmless, little 200 watt heater by Lasko. My reason for acquiring the little device was purely comfort-related, but this thing has morphed into a comatose-inducing, bizarre dream-creating contraption.
It’s best practice to focus a post on a topic, a theme, an adventure, a something. I decided to heck with that―it’s my blog, I’m the goddess here, so I can make up and amend the rules whenever I gosh darn feel like it. There are a number of things that have happened in the past few weeks that I wanted to share in a hit-and-run sort of way. None of them are particularly important, or life-changing, just the little things. Continue reading
You know how at the end of the year everyone gets all gushy about what happened in the past twelve months, and all hopeful for what will come in the next? Yeah, I do that too—I’m not unique. Continue reading
You know it’s real love when you sigh–rather than groan–about a boat’s shortcomings. The S/V Libby, gorgeous and fast though she may be, lacks something highly necessary: a heater. This really isn’t so much of a problem right now, while I’m docked, rocking an abundance of electricity, feeding a small ceramic electric heater. But when “spring” finally arrives and I’m out of the juice, it will be an issue.
Congratulations! You’re researching your next adventure, and I applaud you. Living aboard a boat is incredible, and I’m sure you’re just peeing your pants with excitement. When I was in your stage, I would lose sleep thinking about my boat, wondering what she was like, and what adventures me and her would embark upon together.
When I moved up from sunny California, I experienced something different, which I relive every year. I moved up here in February when the skies were clear, the air crisp. Even though it snowed in April, while I was stringing a fence for Dante, the real change didn’t happen until summer.
Last week I housesat for my parents as they traveled to California to, among other things, spend a day at Disneyland. I haven’t been to Disneyland in nearly ten years, so I’m a little bitter that they got to go and I remained behind to care for their house/zoo. But it wasn’t all bad, and I admit that there were aspects of living on land which I enjoyed.
Since I started this blog, I’ve gotten a few emails from folks asking where I live/moor. Before living on a boat, I noticed that people found my website by searching “Courtney Kirchoff address,” which I admit, freaked me out just a bit. Though I believe most people are good and decent, I’m not naive, and know some people in this world are not to be trusted. Anyone and everyone uses the web, both good and not so good. I deliberately avoid talking about my current location for my own safety. Most people asking for my location are doing so for innocent reasons: just wanting to connect with another liveaboard, become friends, whatever. But it’s always the weirdos who ruin it for everyone else. While I’d love to say “I live here, come and meet for coffee and tales of windy adventures,” I will always refrain. So if you’ve emailed me asking where I live, please don’t take it personally if I never respond to your inquiry. I’m being safe. Avid kick boxer and believer in the second amendment though I may be, it’s still unwise for anyone on the web to proclaim their current location. I shake my head at people who always update their Twitter or Facebook feeds with things like “Visiting family in wherever,” or “I miss my husband so much, can’t wait for him to come home,” etc. Such trusting individuals have made it that much easier to be robbed, stalked, or something far worse.
To my family and friends who read this blog: I absolutely love getting comments from you, but please keep my whereabouts private.
Though we’re approaching winter here in the Pacific Northwest, I felt it was prudent to go on an overnight sailing adventure to somewhere. What’s the point of living on a sailboat, I said, if one doesn’t sail it anywhere to stay the night? I couldn’t have had this spurring thought in early September, when the sun shone warmly–no, no, I had to get the cruising bug well after the cold temperatures had caught hold. I have a propensity to make life a little harder for myself. Oh well.
So I just posted a new blog post over at True Northe, called “How Websites Work: A Housing Analogy.” The analogy has helped my clients understand how the pieces of the web work together. Now that I’ve done something helpful and productive, it’s time to get ready to sail away! I must strap everything down, get some diesel, check charts, and head out for a few days. I’ve never had an overnight sail, so this should be interesting.
I’m living on a sailboat for a few good reasons:
It’s Monday, which always signifies the beginning of the work week, but for me it reminds me that I’m not 100% well. Being sick is always a drag, but today I’ve decided to try my best to shelf it. It’s way too pretty outside to be sick, and Libby wants to go sailing. Who am I to deny my home her wishes? If the wind picks up, we’re out of here!
When I first moved to my sailboat, I was anchored out, or “living on the hook.” For winter, though, I’m living on a dock. Like anything, it has benefits and drawbacks.
Today was docking day. I’ve been looking forward to this day for weeks, thinking longingly of having as much electricity as I needed, being able to walk into downtown under the power of my own legs (and just my legs), not having to deal with the tumultuous weather, and never agonizing over leaving something on my boat, and then having to jump back into the dinghy to go out into the bay to retrieve it. The weather has also encouraged the big move. The past few days have been incredibly windy, with gusts over 30 mph. The howling wind made 30 foot Libby a wave jumper, and while the anchor line was incredibly secure, the noise and the rocking were getting old.
