Our time here in the Bahamas is coming to a close. We have pulled in to our first dock in almost 8 weeks. The boat is a mess but everyone is incredibly happy…and sad. And excited! How do I best wrap up what has been a few of the best months of our lives? It’s impossible, but putting thoughts to screen is something I promised myself I would do so we could look back at these blog posts to help remind ourselves of what we did.

It’s occurred to me that perhaps I should rank the experiences of our time here in order of importance. I’m not sure that’s possible but it informs my next few paragraphs. My time here will be remembered for the realization of the dream. What dream? THE dream. You know when people utter, usually facetiously, that they’re “living the dream?” I’m actually living it. Seriously. Some of you may be reading this and thinking “no shit” but know that I learn slowly. It’s taken this long. 9 months or so. But I’m living the fucking dream. And what is it?

It’s starting each morning with my boys, usually Elliott first, climbing in to our bed for a snuggle, Oliver rising second. Lately Oliver has been first up, around 6 a.m., but he dives straight in to a book and reads for 60 to 90 minutes before venturing out of bed. I take Bo to shore and enjoy a walk along a stunning white sand beach, enjoying the solitude and the simple ability to be ashore again after my foot finally healed. The boys then begin an hour or so of playing with Duplo and Lego while Melissa and I share tea in the cockpit. Usually by this point someone has shouted “TURTLE” or “RAY” or “SHARK!” The wildlife here is incredible. Breakfast is quickly followed by some schooling. The schooling can take a number of different forms, be it work books, math on a screen, math on paper, reading, or heading to shore to paint conch shells to leave for our next visit.

Lunch may follow, or perhaps we jump in the water for some world class snorkeling. Usually with friends. Yes, that’s right, we have a thriving social life here as well. The kids boats always find each other, friendships are fast formed (for both kids and adults), and rarely does a day go by where there’s not a play date or sundowners. Lately, due to our location and its lack of any sort of strong cellular connectivity, there’s been a lot of book reading as well. The luxury!

The last week has been spent hanging out with my old college sailing teammate, Karen Fallon and her great family, Tim, Ben and Jamie. It’s our second go around with them this season in the Bahamas and it’s been incredibly enjoyable. Yesterday afternoon was spent playing board games in our cockpit mid afternoon, before heading to the beach for some kayaking, swimming, digging and throwing the ball for Bo. There’s something extra special about reconnecting with someone who you haven’t seen in over 20 years but spent some important, formative years together. It’s hard to describe but, for me, it’s made the time here even more memorable.

The time with my boys and family is priceless. I’m watching Oliver and Elliott grow up before my eyes and the fact that I’m present for almost all if it is just a dream come true. Oliver is becoming so incredibly confident…and independent. It’s so bittersweet but I’m just grateful to be witness to it. Daily. Not after 5:30 p.m. when we’re both fried, or on weekends. Or perhaps for 2 weeks, twice a year, trying to get in a rhythm hurriedly before the vacation ends. No. I get them daily. It’s really great. We’re in a rhythm now and it’s awesome. Oliver continues to mention how happy he is. Elliott, when he’s not crying or whining, is always happy. Melissa and I, after a period of adjustment, are once again running together in stride. It’s hard to imagine being happier but…

The Bahamas will also forever be the time that we bought a new boat and sold the boat that has fostered our family safely for 7 years. Atlas, our Jeanneau 45 DS, has been a great boat for our young family. I have to admit I was a bit surprised how quickly it sold. With a flurry of activity, some questions answered, pictures sent and then 3 quick offers, 2 on the same day no less. Once again, some bittersweet emotions with this and I’m sure this isn’t the last time we write about Atlas, she’s still our home for another month and saying goodbye will be tough. But we know we’re doing the right thing by moving to the St Francis. It’s the right tool for our future.

Buying and selling a boat in the Bahamas was stressful and hard! But good stress and good hard. It was exciting and scary! Melissa and I had some really “big” conversations, not unlike when we were trying to decide if taking this leap was right for us. There remains some doubt, just like there was when we cast off our lines in Toronto last July. I suspect (and hope) that those doubts about our new purchase will be erased within months, just as they were with our transition to boat life.

The Bahamas will also be remembered for the friendships we made, the reinforcement that this is the right life for us and the comfortable rhythm we’ve found ourselves in regarding our seamanship. We’re hardly cocky. We still take the time to go through routes and waypoints, consult the weather models daily, form and discuss a plan every time we drop or pick up the anchor, enter or exit a new bay or island, but there’s some confidence that now exists that has helped allay some of the anxieties. We still know there’s lots to learn. We know we’re comfortable because we haven’t really pushed the boundaries much in the last month or so. But, shit, what we’ve accomplished isn’t nothing and we should acknowledge what we’ve done and, also, what’s ahead.

Which leads me to the next endearing memory, one of profound excitement for our future. Our relocation to New Zealand is a big deal for us. It sticks us in a corner of the world that requires some serious sailing to extricate ourselves from. This is scary AF but also really exciting. It will add wrinkles to the brain, will test and teach our family, and will hopefully get us to the Mediterranean, a place the boys are DYING to visit (due to our world history readings). Knowing we’ve selected a boat that is designed and built for this is both exciting and reassuring. The extra space and stability will be a lovely perk. The knowledge that we have to rise to the challenge is daunting but I’m confident we can do it. I know there will be set backs. I know there will be moments of terror and truly worrying about the safety of my family. But with proper planning and some good luck those moments should be fleeting. Hopefully, after, the family will be steeled by the experience and be ready for more. This has to be better than the regular 9 to 5, right?

The final memory of the Bahamas for me will be the decision to take Bo back to Toronto and go on without him. We will miss him dearly but know we’re making the right decision. I’m incredibly grateful for the last 13 days we’ve spent here in Warderick Wells. It is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. It’s impossible to convey the beauty. The pictures posted above and below, while lovely, don’t do it justice. And the dog walks have been awesome. The “shore” at low tide is mere feet from Atlas, the equivalent of letting Bo out the door and in to the back yard. He’s got a regular walk schedule again, IS regular again, and has been swimming and chasing balls with all his might. He’s happy. Clearly the happiest he’s been on this entire trip. Which makes it even harder to say goodbye to him, and yet I’ll be forever grateful to have had these special moments and memories with him.

So, thank you, Bahamas. You are and forever will be special to my family. You are the last chapter of our time aboard Atlas the Jeanneau but the first chapter of when our family truly started living the dream, settling in to a rhythm of happiness and satisfaction. You are when we made some really hard decisions, some bitter, some sweet. You are friendships, new and old. Throughout, your beauty has left us breathless. I’ll be forever grateful for our time here. Thank you.