Man it has been one wild and crazy week for the Bosco crew. We have embarked on our ‘cruising’ expedition. So very much has happened in the past 5 days, I will have to write several blogs to catch up to speed with what we’ve been experiencing.

We really didn’t think that living ‘on the hook’ would be that different from living at the marina. I mean sure we knew there would not be unlimited power and access to amenities outside of the boat, but I guess we figured we were prepared for all of that. But let me tell you, first-hand, it is COMPLETELY different living at anchor.

You know the saying; “water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.” That totally applies to us, except instead of water, its land.

Our first day commenced bright and early at 5AM, on Tuesday. Jake wanted us to hit the waters by 7AM sharp, because the weather boasted of storms later in the day, and we wanted to give ourselves plenty of time to get setup at anchorage before then. We had our fingers crossed that the engine would run, the weather would hold, and the sails would sail…you get the idea. It was a mixture of complete excitement and terror to embark on this next phase and the unknown.

The morning flew by in a whir of getting things situated. I made the rounds saying goodbye to the few people that I saw that morning around the marina. My furry buddy, Henry, is the cat that lives in the office. I was happy that I got to see him one least time before we took off, because he’s super sweet and adorable!

Before we left, our friend Dan told us to wait for him to get back before we left (he’s an early morning bike-rider), so at 7:20AM, we were feeling a lot of tension as we twiddled our thumbs waiting. Finally he rolled up, gave us big hugs, and helped us remove our dock lines. Then we were off. As we motored around the marina and out of our little cove, we saw Dan following us on his kayak, “blue”. What a send off! Dan’s awesome – he paddled with us out of the harbor entrance and to the first green buoy. Then we turned into wind and raised the main sail.

We chose to motor out of the channel because of the shoals on both sides and the strong wind and waves. We figured we should clear the danger-zone before cutting the engine and sailing. The weather was a bit stronger than we hoped, winds around 15 knots and waves 2-3 feet. Once we cut the engine and set our course, we flew! It was amazing! The sailing was absolutely perfect. We stayed on a close-hauled for the entire route. Our pace was 5.5 knots and upwards of 6.3 knots at times. It was so beautiful and peaceful, scary and exhilarating all at once.

I manned the helm the entire way, and Jake trimmed the sails. The sailing part flew by and before we knew it (3 hours later), we were entering the channel on the opposite side of the bay towards our first anchorage. The total distance covered was about 16.5 miles in almost 4 hours, most of that was sailing (SO COOL!!)

The anchorage we chose for the night is called “Tar Cove” seemed a perfect place to hunker down during the strong storms that were predicted for the afternoon. The only downfall of the anchorage is that it was just behind a large marina. Not exactly an ideal spot to escape marina-dom, but at least it was protected and in a different spot on the Bay.

We were a little anxious about figuring out how, and where, to actually drop anchor. Once we motored in and slowed down, it was sort of clear, but not really. There isn’t any sign that says, “Drop Anchor Here”. Basically all you have to do is make sure you have at least 100 feet (or more) of distance between your boat and any other thing (land, dock, other boats) and to make sure you have enough depth beneath you. Our boat has a 4 foot draft, so as long as we have at least that much depth beneath us (at low tide) then we are good. But it is a bit of a crap shoot.

There was one smaller boat already anchored in the middle of the bay, so we had to scoot around it a bit. Jake dropped the anchor and I motored back to make sure it set (which it did perfectly because the Rocna rocks!). Then we sat, and waited. Not sure exactly what for, but our minds were kind of overwhelmed. We couldn’t yet fathom that we are out here doing this. I mean the sailing part is no problem. And even anchoring wasn’t a big deal. But then we were sort of at a loss of what to do after that. We have been so used to the mind-frame of ‘going-going-going’ all the time.

It also felt weird seeing land, no more than 100 yards away from us in all directions. It was land that we have never seen before, and we weren’t planning to walk on. But it was there…sort of taunting us. We are out here on our little Bosco island instead. Everything we have to survive is right here (hopefully!). Its hard to describe the weirdness of this feeling. Being in our boat without electricity, or our dock neighbors/friends nearby. No more unlimited power or the option of a nice long shower at the marina or some relief of A/C at the library. No more unlimited WIFI or streaming videos and music. No more connection to our old world…at least not right now.

We are still acclimating to conservation of battery power since there’s no electricity out here. The only things we had running are a couple of fans and the radio. We turned off the fridge because that consumes a lot of power. We keep the water pressure off unless we are using water. We have ONE inverter (outlet from lighter) that we are using to charge small electronics.

In a way, this life reminds me of being a kid again. The simplicity and care-free nature of it. All we care about are the basics; staying hydrated, fed and as comfortable as possible. There are zero distractions from the ‘old’ world. No running errands or worrying about working or boat projects or ANYTHING. Its liberating.

So we sat…drank water…sat some more.

We had some close encounters of the nature kind. A beautiful bird (no idea what) landed on our jib sheet and hung out for awhile (it almost landed on my knee!). I realized after it flew off that it dropped the tiny fish that it caught for a meal (too bad!). We also saw a large goose family swim by us. They were split up into 3 different groups, with the babies in the middle and adults surrounding them. That was pretty magical to see. The best was the Osprey family we witnessed catching a fish and feeding it to their baby. Nature is so awesome!

After about an hour we made our favorite boat snack; pepper jack cheese, saltines and apples. The energy boost helped us to get the boat cleaned up from sailing adventures to a living space again. Jake checked the engine and added some more sealant to the oil leaking, though not as much as before. We turned on fans, opened hatches, checked batteries, cleaned up the mess and then we sat feeling totally weirded out by the fact that we are actually doing this…not yet comfortable or knowing what to do with ourselves.

The longer we sat there, the more the heat started to get to us. Inside the boat it was upwards of 99 degrees; no amount of fans blowing or air running through did much to help. We hung out on the swim platform and put our feet in the water. We also used our cockpit shower to sprinkle ourselves with water (not too much since we have to conserve). It did bring slight reprieve, but soon the full force of the heat knocked us out. I took a nap in the cockpit and Jake did the same below in the salon. By mid-afternoon, it was simply sweltering. We decided to check on the weather with our VHF radio, and learned that there was a heat advisory in effect for the better part of the day. That is, until the storm rolls in.

At that, we both looked up at the perfectly clear blue sky unable to believe that any kind of bad weather was coming. But, the voice insisted that it was coming fast and hard. And it was gaining intensity, going from bad-to-worse.

At around 5PM, the clear sky darkened a lot…

…And all we could do was wait.

[to be continued]