SWINGING ON THE HALYARDS OF LIFE

Image: Image Description:  three smiling girls stand on a beach on Mexico’s Pacific coast holding one long barracuda between them.

Raising three children on a boat, Gerry speaks to the advantages of family life at sea and how the lifestyle naturally cultivates resiliency.

BY GERRY RODRIGUEZ

It's dumping the kind of frigid Seattle rain that permeates everything and penetrates the pores of my skin like pine needles. It's late, the sun has set long ago, and everyone is hungry. The bags of laundry, the groceries, and we are soaked and barely through the dock gate. The dock is longer than an American football field and we live at the far end of it. I could easily trade this rainy, windy walk down a long dock for the dry coziness of living in a house on the land. But would I? Not a bloody chance.

It has never been just my hubby and me living aboard our little sailboat. We have three girls we are responsible for, and they have all been on this adventure with us since birth. They are now 5, 7, and 8! We try our darndest to help them grow into capable, kind, confident, adaptable human beings. I firmly believe this life we have chosen helps us in our endeavor.

Raising three humans can be chaotic a lot of the time. On a 42' sailboat, it can be downright crazy-making. Especially when all three of them were under the age of 4. At that age, for safety sake, they needed to be carried on and off the boat, or with me holding their hand as they stepped over the toe rail. This was manageable on a sunny day, and madness when snow and ice covered the boat steps. When they were fledgling walkers strapped safely in their life vests, they would teeter backward against the life-lines as they tried to take the big step over the coaming to get into the cockpit. My heart would stop. Those early years were full of these tense episodes. 

When each baby was born, we were asked, "What's her name?" followed closely with, "Will you still live on the boat?" I get it—and I don't. It's hard work, but we are not people to shy away from hard work. I try to show my girls that sometimes things can seem harsh and impossible. With the right attitude and tenacity, however (perhaps with a little swearing thrown in), the tides will change and things will be different. If we just stick with it, we will soon be swimming with whale sharks and dolphins and watching pelicans and blue-footed boobies dive-bomb for their dinner as the sun sets at anchor.

Image: Gerry and her husband topsides on their boat, Prairie Fox, whilst reveling in the peace and quiet at anchor in LaPaz, Baja California Sur, Mexico.

“Our rainbow in this life is the beautiful, supportive community, and the endless adventure that life aboard spoils us with.”

Our family chooses to do this not because moorage or living on the hook is cheaper than a mortgage or rent. Sure, it's a side benefit, but definitely not the motivation. Our rainbow in this life is the beautiful, supportive community, and the endless adventure that life aboard spoils us with. Our neighbors are citizens of the world with a wealth of life and sailing experience who come from all walks of life. We all share key things in common. We love the water, yearn to explore, and the great leveler, we all hate having to rebuild the head (toilet).

This life affords us so many freedoms. Freedom to be a little less. Less encumbered with stuff. Less dictated by rigid routines, even while running businesses from home. Less tamed. Less afraid. Less concerned with growing up too quickly (yes, this also applies to hubby and me). With this, our children have the time to experience life and learn how to adapt gracefully and be powerfully resilient yet tender. 

They see the cycles of life: creatures live, creatures die. They have learned to ebb and flow with it. They cope reasonably well with getting to bed late if we spend more time spider hunting than we intended because we are having too much fun. They are okay and know meals may be delayed when we are underway if both hubby and I are needed topside. They know that things shift and change depending on the situation. 

They have learned to read the subtleties of our neighbors and people around them, whether it's a good time to stop and chat, when and how to offer help. They see emotion and life typically hidden behind closed doors, as life can be pretty exposed when living on a boat. We hear our neighbors laugh, cry, fight, and yell out 'hello' with smiles and waves. They have learned how to support and show love in respectful ways. 

As parents, we are also gifted with time to spend time with our children. We learn and grow by seeing the world through their eyes and this helps all of us. We also have a global village that supports our girls, helping them grow to their full, unapologetic potential. Our neighbors love them as much as we do. They guide them as we would, being the all-important voice of that 'second opinion.'

Now that the physical demands with the children are lesser, the mental ones truly begin. I am fast beginning to look back on the challenges of those early years with fondness as the battle of wills with our three head-strong girls grows. Not one shy wallflower popped out of me. We are challenged yet fortunate to be raising three rambunctious, charming, opinionated, sweet, loud, smart, and capable girls, and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

For nearly a decade, the islands and anchorages of Puget Sound in the Pacific Northwest of the United States was our family's backyard. Today, our backyard is the Sea of Cortez and the Pacific coast of Mexico. After that? Well, that’s for tomorrow to decide.  For now, our little world is peaceful, our children are happy and safe, and we are all swinging on the halyards of this cruising life.

From Women Who Sail Newsletter | Issue 2. | september 2020.

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a woman with a fish on a hook

Gerry Rodriguez

Born on the lush jungle island of Borneo and raised on the beaches of Australia, I met the Love Of All My Lives one sultry evening in Melbourne. Within 3 months, I had moved to Seattle newly married, and the proud mum of my 5-year-old stepson. Fast forward three homes, two dogs, three boats, a successful cafe, four businesses, too many jobs to count, three beautiful baby girls, and a decade-plus a smidge-later, we have headed south on an adventure. Time passes exploring islands on our new (to us) 45' floating home, learning the ukulele, improving our fishing skills, and of course, starting another family business. Our current home-port is blissful COVID quarantine life on the Pacific coast of Mexico while we work on Textnibble, our new family venture to help small-family owned restaurants survive the pandemic economy.