Hello I am Forrest and I love this boat trip but I am sad that I have to leave school but this boat trip is something new something I haven’t experienced before and so I am trying to get the best out of it. I have loved boats for most of my life. So I think it’s amazing to do this. I love snorkeling. And I also love playing at the sandy beaches. The islands I have visited are beautiful and I love the culture. It is amazing when we walk on land and see the welcoming people. Like home. And it is amazing that they live in these places where there town is like seven houses. The hiking trails are gorgeous. And when you get to the top you can see a wonderful view of the bay. And when you jump of the sand dunes and land in the nice soft sand and explore islands that have never been lived on. And jump in the ocean where the water is 89 degrees. And swam behind the boat when it was going 1.9 knots. I love when the waves rock me to sleep. And I love when they bounce up and spray me in the face. And when we were sailing the breeze hits my face and the smell of the ocean . And my favorite thing on this voyage is seeing the wildlife.
Jumping off sand dunes in Bahia Santa Maria, Baja California Sur, Mexico I backpacked in Yosemite National Park and earned some Webelo Cub Scout pins!
Clear skies, stars, a huge moon. We are no longer just going to Baja, we are there. What we’ve planned is playing out. We are closing in on Bahia Tortuga, our first stop down the coast of Baja, where we get to lay up for a few nights to relax, enjoy a party or two with the other rally boats, eat some restaurant food and hopefully play with some other boat kids. Tacos, cold beer, sandy beaches! Tacos, gold beer, sandy beaches! We still have the last 100nm to go today, but we’re chugging away waiting for the winds to come up. This trip is about 330 nm direct, and more like 400 nm if you don’t just run dead down wind. I’ll note that some of the fleet got a good start, went hard with their spinnakers and were able to stay on the end of what seemed like a passing wave of wind this entire passage. We started only 90 minutes behind the pack and I opted to swing out to sea while the seas were calm so that if/when the seas come up, we would be able to run with the waves behind instead of abeam, a much more comfortable point of sail for the entire crew. Think less puking kids.
Yesterday we got about 6 hours of sweet sailing in the late afternoon / evening. Not enough for anyone’s taste, but enough to keep you coming back for another day. It’s like hitting a great drive on the 18th hole. LJ’s still under the weather but she’s tireless, cooking all meals, doing school, entertaining the kids, cleaning the boat and still sitting her night watch. Adam is great crew, taking trustworthy watches so LJ and I can sleep and entertaining the kids like a fun uncle. The boats doing well so far. We’re clean, warm, dry, plenty of water and plenty of electrons. And when the wind goes over 8 knots, she’s an easy sailer. We can make 6 knots overground in 9 knots of wind with just the jib and main, and we could make 7-8 if we unfurl the code0 (today’s plan after researching predicted conditions). For now the crew is settling in and getting comfortable. It’s our kids’ first multi-night passage. The seas are very calm, nothing like the PNW passage, and the weather is warm. Hot during the day and I’m thankful for shade.
Seeing the photos from Orcas over the last week has given me the first real homesickness since I left in August. Orcas on a sunny fall day is beautiful. I miss those crisp mornings, the smell of freshness that comes with fall, the community’s relief as the tourist season fades and the locals return from their summer travels. I miss going to Chris’ gym to workout with my friends. I miss my little office in town. I miss waking up and looking out over the cove. I miss drinking a cup of coffee staring down East Sound to Blakely island. I miss bumping into neighbors on the drive to school. I miss eating lunch at the market. I really miss the Halloween party in town. What a tradition! I miss coaching soccer with Brian and sitting quietly in the Oddfellows hall through the girls’ ballet class taught by his wife. I miss golfing with my friends. I miss fall racing with the J Pod. I miss the satisfaction of finishing a fully stocked woodpile. I miss playing pool at Bruce’s and planning next season’s boating adventures north. I miss soaking in our redneck hot tub with LJ looking at the stars.
Maybe I’m getting older? Maybe I’m getting more honest with myself? Maybe a decade of investment in making a new place home is paying off? I don’t know. We have an incredible life there, and it’s one of a kind place. I’m enjoying this adventure, I’m surrounded by family and friends this whole time. I’m so lucky to know that we have found our home, and to have a place to return to with smiles on our face instead of the dread of reality. We aren’t coming home anytime soon, but I look forward to the day we do. Onward!
Sunrise over the eastern pacific. The water is 69F and rising!Adam of the desert. Coral after waking up first. She just came up, sat quietly for about 30 minutes. The quiet calmness of kids without distraction. Lots of cards and other games. Our future navigators dutifully logging our hourly position and conditions. The barometer is rising!A bag of chips a day goes a long way for crew morale!Being sick, being overwhelmed with kid duty, and being anxious of getting overpowered in a multihull has kept LJ from really enjoying the time under sail. But every minute under sail is working in her favor. Knitting on watch. What a luxury to have ample water and hot showers with an incredible view while on passage. Movie night. The kids have been just amazing. They are relaxing into the trip and have stopped asking ‘when are we going to be there’.
We have covered another chunk of distance down the California coast from Sausalito to San Diego and as I post this, we are poised to depart for Mexico!
The month included stops in Half Moon Bay, Monterrey Bay, Santa Barbara, Channel Islands, Catalina, Long Beach, Dana Point and San Diego. We had some amazing land trips to Disneyland and Legoland. While entering San Diego harbor, we passed an outgoing submarine and it’s escorts and they all smiled and waved back.
We made some mistakes, like overflowing the diesel tanks into the bilge. That was bad. And Mikes vision got blurry from a scopolamine patch. And I got over-confident after having no kids throw up, ever, in 10 years. So I fed spicy curry one afternoon last week as we were entering San Diego and then oops, poor Forrest. On Santa Cruz in the Channel Islands, we surfed ashore to a sand beach on the paddle boards. Mike, Sierra and Coral got dumped in the surf but they were ok. It led to a 30 minute parental crash course/ practice session on how to time entry and departure from a beach. We are experts now, of course!
I’m realizing that my role as a deck hand is limited. Teaching 4 kids school, maintaining overall kid happiness, feeding 6-10 humans, cleaning, provisioning. These things are hard to transition in and out of when Mike cheerily says “let’s put up the main” or “I need your eyes” or “time to anchor” or “take the helm while I make water.” When another adult is with us to be dedicated crew, my anxiety almost disappears and this becomes fun. But when it’s just the 6 of us, I’m nervous. There isn’t a backup if Mike or I get sick or hurt or overtired. This boat needs a rested and alert captain at the helm.
Then there were the two hurricanes that hit Mexico in the last two weeks, Norma and Otis. Ocean temps of 90 degrees? We are hesitant to rush into Mexico with warm air and oceans so recently causing these disturbances. There was a lot of damage to La Paz and we could be there in 2 weeks.
I continue to be grateful for the support of our friends, family, visiting crew, weather models, chart plotters, and starlink. My heart is mourning for my Maine friends and family, stunned from the Lewiston shooting. We will push forward, remembering that our time on this earth is limited and to be grateful for the moments and opportunities that we have now.
Disneyland / California Adventure was awesome.Submarine!Philip visited us at Dana Point ❤️The kids enjoyed learning about oil rigs and the alternatives for their future in Southern California.Visits from Orcas friends!Lesson on gears and pulleys Coral is into turtles right now.
The worst wounds are often self inflicted. We’ve had a slow freshwater leak from our plumbing in the starboard hull all season. On a monohull with a bilge sump it would go largely unnoticed. The water would pool in the sump and be pumped out every few hours without you noticing. On a flat bilge catamaran it’s totally different. Every drop of water sloshes around but it would take tens of gallons to get high enough for the bilge pump to suck it out. So until we get really motivated, or until the leak worsens, I’ve just been sponging it up occasionally. Think one gallon a month maybe. But, we have been suspicious of a mixing valve that lets us select saltwater or freshwater for toilet flushing. Fresh is way better as you don’t have dying sea creatures in your plumbing and holding tanks, but it’s nice to have saltwater as a backup in case the watermaker dies on passage. And the saltwater system is one I never use, so I usually just leave it in it’s winterized state, which means full of red rv antifreeze. So when we see red or pink in the bilge it’s a hint of where it came from.
Fast forward to Monday when we moved the boat from the Long Beach YC dock across the fairway to a safe spot we could leave her while we went to Disney. We filled the fuel tanks on the way to be ready to depart to San Diego. And we took the time to top up our aft storage tanks. Lyrae is a specially outfitted Outremer that has double the fuel storage of standard. We carry nearly 200 gallons of diesel and, at 0.6g/hour per engine; that’s quite a range (we use one engine when on passage to run at 5.5 knots). So after fueling, tying up and getting ready to leave the boat for a Disneyland hotel earl the next morning, I did a final check of the bilge and saw just a tiny bit of liquid in the usual spot. Sierra asked “why is it pink?”, to which I smugly answered “that’s because we have a small leak and it’s coming from the saltwater plumbing.” I’m extra smug now because that’s a new mixing valve that LJ installed, not me 😉
Fast forward a week and we’re back on the boat after an amazing time at Disney. We saw friends from Orcas (4 different kid families!) and even had a sleepover party Friday night. Saturday morning we said a sad goodby to Long Beach and our friends and headed out to make the 30 nm run to Dana Point. We motored about half the time and after dropping the sails and turning towards port I went below to check a few things and I found … traces of red liquid in the port bilge. Note, this bilge has been dry since I fixed a holding tank leak this spring. The symptom of that was red antifreeze leaking from the holding tank over the winter into the bilge. “Dammit”, I thought, “do I have another poop water problem?” After staring at the small puddle of red liquid, I did what I should always do. I touched it. Slimy. But I know at least 3 red liquids on the boat that are slimy: rv antifreeze, yanmar engine coolant, and diesel. So I tasted it. DIESEL IN THE BILGE!! Oh boy. There are diesel fuel lines running all through the deepest darkest unreachable corners of this boat. If we have a diesel leak it means a week of tearing the boat apart with a few mechanics. Think ‘pull the couch and fridge and sink out of the salon’ style tear up the boat. More than we’ve ever done before. So I start pulling up floorboards and working my way to the deepest part of the bilge. Ugh, a serious puddle. A gallon? A few gallons? Dammit. Panic. Breathe. Panic some more. Dread telling wife. Breathe. Think. Huh. Remember when Sierra noticed the starboard bilge water was red? And I smugly told her it was antifreeze from MOM’s mixing valve?! Uh oh. Head to starboard. Pull up the bilge board. Red slimy liquid. Taste it — diesel. Ok. Panic starts to subside. What are the odds of blowing a line on both sides at exactly the same time? That’s low. So now my analysis moves into the dreaded zone — what have I touched? What did I do differently? Think…. The fuel transfer system. I have been chasing a slow vent on the aft port tank and the forward starboard tank. I’ve had luck leaving the transfer manifold that connects tanks open in the past, and when the tanks are full that allows air to transfer between the tanks. But I’ve never left it open to the aft storage tanks until I refueld Monday, precisely the day Sierra noticed the pink bilge liquid. Aha. So I peel up the beds that cover the aft storage tanks. They’re full, like overfull. And dribbling out around a fitting or two on the top. Where do that extra fuel come from?! Huh. Check the front supply tanks. Starboard is full, and port is — half empty?! WTH, that should be full! Ok, then I finally inspect my fuel polishing and transfer system that I’m so proud of and realize that the diesel return line for the port tank has an easier path sending the fuel to the aft storage tanks than into the port supply tank like it’s supposed to. And if some idiot leaves those transfer valves open, my yanmar engine has been happily overfilling the aft storage tanks. It’s doing exactly what I told it to do, I was just an idiot. Diesel plumbing is just like computer programming. It does exactly what you tell it to.
So after buying 100 absorb pads at Westmarine, getting half naked and mopping up the bilge while listening to MSU get annihilated by UM, I couldn’t help but think how the worst wounds are often self inflicted. To her credit LJ didn’t freak out, and to be honest I don’t think she can even smell diesel as it’s in her blood from a childhood on boats. There’s still more after-mess to deal with (some of the bilge is inaccessible). But I understand what happened, I don’t think we caused any lasting harm (my kids brains are already mostly developed, what’s a day of benzene fumes really gonna do to them…), and I’ve learned yet again not to be so damn smug to say I know an answer to a question before stopping, thinking, listening and … tasting.
We were in Sausalito for over 5 weeks but it went by really fast. We were in Michigan and Maine for 10 days of it, backpacking in Yosemite for another 5 days and visiting friends in Sacramento and East Bay for other overnight trips. In the city we visited The Academy of Sciences, Exploratorium, 6-Flags, Bay Model, The Marine Mammal Center, rode the Trolley, participated with local girl scout troop events, walked the Golden Gate Bridge, entertained long time friends, rode some single track and played at the beach. Mike worked in the city some days and the kids did a great first month of 1st and 4th grade. The kids have created a video of their favorite parts; two backpacking trips in Yosemite National Park where we camped above 9,000 feet in perfect weather at alpine lakes accessed from Tuolumne Meadows. Ok, their favorite was probably Great Wolf Lodge (we went twice because I needed to dry out our camping gear somewhere), but they are nice enough to tell me it was Yosemite.
The kids interviewed the 4 crew that joined Mike for the trip from orcas island, WA to San Francisco. We (mom and kids) drove the car south for that part so we could have a car for the month in California and so the boat could give useful crew a dedicated berth. The delivery crew saw some great wildlife and had a mix of motoring and spicy sailing…and they didn’t even have to eat any vegetables! They did compose a custom song for the trip and all 20 bags of chips were gone upon arrival though . Enjoy!
If you have met me for even a few minutes, you’re probably aware that I am slightly obsessed with planning and spreadsheets and wringing every single drop of life out of every second we have on this planet. Sympathy (or pity?) may be one of the first emotions that you feel towards the 4 kids that have transpired from the 10 years of marriage that mike and I have shared. I feel incredibly lucky that all 4 of them have good attitudes *most* of the time and are generally eager to participate in whatever shenanigans we have planned.
I’m trying to savor the moments of this adventure, remaining focused on observing the present. Yes we take videos and photos often and I’m looking at my phone more than I care to admit. But I’m not reaching for the selfie stick or setting up the camera for every experience we have. These videos are essentially research project presentations created by 6 and 9 year olds. You’ll see interviews of visiting crew and friends, demonstrations of our safety gear, explanations of how we produce electricity, lessons on how to wing foil, what we eat, what boat-school is like and if you’re lucky, the names of the 10,000 stuffed animals that occupy most of the volume of the boat.
Enjoy these short glimpses into our life and come along on this adventure with us!
That’s an adjective I love. It describes moments in life I most cherish. There are places, people and memories that feel absolutely timeless to me: Canyon Lodge, the turn of the century fishing lodge/club in the Agawa Canyon my parents lucked into. The Buckhorn, Bruce and Tiffany’s log cabin staring out over the islands and Mount Baker. Listening to Big 10 football in my neighbor Bill’s shop while he builds his next gorgeous wooden day sailer. Playing basketball on the dirt floor in the old white barn in Williamston where I grew up. Those moments are special. They are truly few, and often very far between. Years. But I hope to never forget them. They aren’t just good memories, they are memories that almost defy a temporal label. They could’ve existed or happend decades or even centuries ago. You are fully in the moment, and, for me, they are associated with places that don’t require electricity, like the top of a mountain or the ring of a campfire. They feel like the types of moments we have woven into our DNA over millenia.
The other night I was lucky enough to share one with my family and friends in the cockpit of Lyrae. One becalmed day Adam decided our journey needed to commemorated in a sea shanty. So mid-passage he got to work song writing. And of course Bruce can play anything on the guitar, so he whipped up a tune. For a good afternoon or two they were seen conspiring in the cockpit with pencils, a songbook and guitars. And so it was, after finishing our passage, feasting at a restaurant, and finally showering up, I found our myself in the cockpit, late at night, singing along with the first ever performance of “That Northwind Ain’t so Foul,” surrounded by my kids, my wife, and my best friends. All singing. Coral sang (no surprise). The girls sang. Sierra was loud. LJ harmonized (of course). Forrest sang proudly and laughed. Even Murray sang (this may be the first ever recording of Murray singing in his 50+ years of existence). And Bruce showed us a few of his hard earned magic tricks with knots that had the kids screaming “Again!” It was special. It was timeless. It was ours.
Years ago one of my best friends completed a truly epic journey, the type of accomplishment that, when done early in life, leaves one wondering if anything else can ever top it. I asked him recently why he hadn’t yet written a book. He answered with a wink: “who said I haven’t?” More seriously, he went on to say “maybe it’s ok to keep some things just for yourself. Just for the people that were there.” I’m starting to appreciate that, the specialness of some of these moments or adventures. It’s hard, maybe impossible to truly share them. I realize how confused this sounds as I sit here writing for a family blog. But also, maybe we’ll keep some things that are ours, just ours. They belong to the crew. They belong to the family. They belong to Lyrae. And they make us who we are.
Those thoughts were running through my confused and foggy brain at 3am as I slowly shook the sleep from my head and sat down to pee (on our boat, everyone pees sitting down, First Mate’s rules). My sea legs were wobbly and I was glad for all the fiddles and hand holds in this amazing boat as I had just made my way up the companionway from the aft cabin into the big bathroom off the salon of this large catamaran. “Where are we? What’s the sail plan? Who’s on watch? What’s the wind? And holy shit, when did we put a bathtub and subway tile in our head?!” Only then did I realize that I wasn’t on Lyrae. We don’t have a big bathroom off the salon. I was in my underwear, on land, in Alameda, CA. Not only were we in the home of LJ’s old mentor, boss and skipper Fred, but I had wandered out of the guest room in my underwear, up the stairs and into Fred and Rose’s private bedroom suite! They were literal feet away and I was peeing with the door open. Oh boy. Shhhhhh.
I still haven’t gotten used to waking up underway in the middle of the night.
We were on our way to go backpacking in Yosemite. It had been well over a week since I had sailed under the Golden Gate and tied up in Sausalito. The boat and crew did great, no injuries or real damage beyond regular passage wear and tear. I was relieved. But over the next week I realized just how much stress and anxiety I had been carrying through the lead up to departure and through the passage. We have done a lot of work on this boat, and a lot of it ourselves. I got way outside of my comfort zone with mechanical, electrical, plumbing, rigging, sails, etc. How many hose clamps, ball valves and pieces of plumbing had I touched? And how could those two tiny hose clamps mean the difference between the bilge being clean and dry and the boat sinking from the inside out?! “Does that port sail drive sound a little more hydraulic to you than starboard?” Oh god, I really hope I got that gear lash adjusted properly and the whole thing doesn’t explode (we had to motor for 2+ days of the passage). But more importantly — did I have the right sail plan? Had I interpreted the weather models properly? Could I really reef running downwind if the following seas didn’t allow us to turn up? Did I really know how to sail a catamaran at all?! Why oh why hadn’t I spent more time flying the code0! Just constant low level anxiety. When I sleept it was for 1-2 hours at most. From my berth I could quietly check the wind, weather, speed, chart and everything on my phone, so I didn’t have to constantly run up to the helm to check. There was one terrifying shrill alarm, on the very first night, as we were motoring on the port engine that woke me (and I think the entire boat). After shutting down the autopilot, VHF and engine, it stopped. I still don’t know what it was or where it came from, but the systems all checked out fine on inspection. And yes, it’s the first time I dropped into the engine room in the dark wearing underwear and a PFD while harnessed into the amazing jack lines LJ installed everywhere (thank god for LJ).
And LJ. I really missed having LJ on the boat. Yes we’re married and it’s not always roses. We bicker, we both have pretty strong ideas about the best way to do things, etc, etc. But she is a partner like no other. We bring different approaches to a conflict or a crises, but when push comes to shove, there’s nobody I’d rather have in my corner. There are so many critical systems on this boat that are on her side of the spreadsheet: sails, rigging, provisions, safety, medical. “Oh, you need a new system to take the load of the reefing line? Gimme 5 minutes— I’ll splice something up for you from my spare dynema.” And she does. That, my friends, is very, very rare. And that gives me deep confidence that we can overcome problems. And she wan’t on the boat, and I was anxious.
LJ this week demonstrating how to recover a kid scooter off the bottom of the ocean with what was within arms reach. That’s a boat hook, some line, a water bottle filled with rocks, two propellor zincs and our fishing gaff.
But overall, I had asked for this. I wanted to be anxious. I needed to stand on my own two feet. One of the big reasons I want to do this at all is to feel alive. I missed feeling a sense of urgency. I want my kids to understand that you can’t always just type on a laptop and zoom all day for a living and pay money to have your problems solved. I want them to end up like LJ, who can fix anything without ever having the right tools or materials, because she grew up on a boat. I want them to understand that adventure means soldering new components onto a watermarker board while in a pristine anchorage, or rigging a temporary ground wire 150 miles offshore for the fuel transfer pump that somehow got miswired right after I tested it in the boat yard this March (ugh). Not so long ago I had a physics lab as a supply of never ending puzzles. Now we have a boat. But this type of living feels more real, more immediate, more exciting, more human and yes — more stressful. Luckily I seem to be coping OK. I’ve quit adventure peeing in the middle of the night, so I’ve got that going for me. Now it’s time to gear up for the next passage, this time with the kids and, thank God, LJ.
Those are the words that have settled to describe how I feel as a dad, skipper and family after completing the first of hopefully many blue water passages on our own boat, Lyrae. At this age it’s rare to do things that are truly new, scary, exhilarating and original. I’ll never do this for the first time again in my life! Seeing dolphins play off the bow wave and under the boat, swimming in the middle of the North Pacific while becalmed, listening to the humpbacks breech all around — these are all firsts for me. They draw me out of my usual thoughts and into the very real, very different world at sea. They make me feel alive in a way that’s hard to feel if you’re no longer a kid.
And I feel like we did something hard. LJ and I have poured our time and energy into transforming Lyrae into a home for our family and learning her ins and outs. Now to finally have her out in the open water where she could stretch her legs and manifest her name (Outremer — over seas) was amazing. She charges ahead effortlessly, often making double digit speeds while deeply reefed. There’s a lot I have yet to learn about how she performs and how to get the most out of her while maintaining comfort for the crew, but we are finally onto a new phase.
And relieved. I’m relieved the boat and crew are safe. I’m relieved to be reunited with LJ and the kids. Im relieved to have such good friends that were more than eager to crew with an inexperienced skipper like me. I’m relieved that I don’t want to quit this adventure as it just begins.
It’s November 2022 and we are finally traveling again! It feels good to get on international flights and use our passports. What a long 2 years it has been with Covid. Our move to Orcas Island (Feb 2020) has been a dream. All of us have embraced and adapted to this unique small community and are so grateful for it. Yet we long for adventure and tropical waters. We hope to depart on Lyrae late summer 2023. This month trip to Egypt (by plane) is a warm up. Forrest and Sierra are loving 3rd grade at orcas elementary school and Aurora and Coral think Salmonberry kindergarten is the most fun place on earth.
We have split the 23 days of Egypt into 3 sections. The first Nov 3-9 was Cairo/Giza museums and pyramids and a fantastic land cruiser safari to the White Desert and Bahariya. Here is Forrest and Sierras narrative: https://youtu.be/pm0eYaYvzCo
Wind sculpted limestone of the white desert.
Our second part was Nov 9-12, flight to Aswan, temples temples temples, nile cruise, tombs tombs tombs, and Luxor.
Sarcophagus in the tomb of Ramesses IV. Valley of the Kings
Final part of the trip Nov 13-24. Starts with a “vacation from vacation” at a swanky air-bnb in El Gouna paired with daily wing surfing lessons. Beach buggy and camel rides. Then 7 days aboard a scuba/“family safari” on a boat in the Red Sea.
Gazillions of kite surfers at El Gouna. What a perfect place to learn this sport.
I learned long ago that an important lesson of being a cruiser is that your plans are in constant flux. In fact the best approach is to have say 2 (or 100?) plans in the works. Maybe there is a storm looming. Maybe someone needs to get medical attention. A visitors flight gets delayed. A global pandemic stifles travel across the globe.
2020 started well for us. We were on track to accomplish our refit goals for the boat. Mike had sorted out his work. We had a plan to rent our home. The kids were excited and ready. We got our snow and ski fix. Then March happened.
There we were in Kirkland, our home literally 2 miles away from the Life Care retirement home that had the first outbreak in the USA. Instantly everything changed and we moved to Orcas Island where we stayed until October. There we appreciated the open space and absence of temptation to socialize with anyone. Our days were filled with beach and ocean play, building stuff, homeschool, art and play. We were grateful to have each other for company and that the kids could play, practice sharing, and have a collaborative homeschool experience. Yes it was/is challenging at times. But it’s like that normally.
Mike continued to work at home, escaping to any number of his “office” spaces. Those being the cab of the truck, the engine room or helm of the boat, a hike, a paddle, a hidden corner of our property or the lawn mower. He expressed appreciation for the change in pace of life and the additional time with family.
With Mike more available to help with kids, I ended up having a significantly larger amount of time to myself than since I became a mom. I took time away and fed my introverted soul by building stuff and keeping my ear protection muffs on at all times so I couldn’t hear the kids screaming, fighting, whining or crying. Mike and I essentially took turns for 4 months working on the boat while the other taught school and did child care. I’ve been happy during this pandemic.
This brings me back to plan B, C, D through ZZ. For October through December this year we drove 7,500 miles in 11 days to Maine and Michigan. We isolated and tested and stayed inside the RV during the trip and then merged bubbles with our parents for a total of 42 days. We are in Kirkland for Christmas and hope to ski a bunch this winter, using our land boat as a basecamp. We don’t know what the future holds for our trip plans. But we will go on a trip. Maybe / maybe not in 2021. Hopefully by 2022. I don’t expect a vaccine for our kids until fall 2021. And we want to be able have our kids go ashore in remote places and make friends. Not stand at an arms length, avoid interactions, sing together or have our smiles hidden. We can wait until that’s possible. Until then, we will take adventures on Lyrae closer to home and explore with our 32’ class A Winnebago land boat.
Take care friends! Wear your mask.
Inside our Winnebago land boatSchool on LyraeOne of my Orcas projects, a garden. It made 4 unripe tomatoes and 6 raspberries. I need to work on my green thumb.
Hello! If you are reading this, then you probably received a Holiday Card with a link to this blog and are thinking “what crazy idea are the Millers planning now”? Welcome! This website doesn’t have much on it right now and that’s because we aren’t actually cruising yet. We are still living on land, shuttling the kids between kindergarten, gymnastics, soccer, drum lessons, church events, rock climbing, cub scouts and playdates. Mike and I are focussed on working in the boat yard getting s/v Lyrae ready for this adventure that will start in September 2020. So maybe you have a few questions? This post will briefly say how we arrived at this choice to do a big trip, how we found our boat, and what the next year could look like!
When did you get this idea?
I will give Mike credit for making this dream move forward. Even though I circumnavigated the globe with my parents when I was a kid for 6 years, I will admit that I didn’t really want to do it with my own family. I hadn’t yet explored the opportunities that cruising kids have today to meet other kids and stay in touch. In 2017 we decided we would start looking for a boat and planning out a potential route. We didn’t know where the boat would be found, what the boat would be, or where we would go. Mike had never sailed off-shore or done an overnight passage. I was daunted by the idea of homeschooling 4 kids. We had a lot to accomplish before embarking on this adventure responsibly.
How did you decide on an Outremer 49?
For 2 years, Mike and I entertained the idea of basically every boat ever designed on earth. Nothing seemed to fit our long list of criteria. Criteria like “large and center cockpit” “fun to sail” “four staterooms” “two seating areas” “safe” “simple systems” “separate engine room” “manageable sail area” “shallow draft”. We had help from an amazingly patient broker that eventually found Lyrae for us even though she wasn’t for sale. We eventually settled on either an aluminum lifting keel monohull under 55′ or a performance catamaran (with daggerboards). Our research involved viewing dozens of boats, hundreds of hours searching yachtworld on our phones, attending boat shows (we even went all the way to Sweden for one!), and I made a whirlwind trip to France to visit manufacturing plans of the top contenders. Since I had never really sailed a catamaran, I was initially hesitant to consider anything but a monohull. Most of the two years was spent educating and convincing me that they are the ideal yacht for equatorial cruising! So thats was we got. A 2010 Outremer 49 catmaran with 4 staterooms. “Baloo”, as she was called then, literally sailed right past our house on Orcas Island this summer by her previous owner. I saw her and said that’s our boat.
What does the name mean?
Lyrae (pronounced Lee-ray) is a double-double star in the constellation of Lyra. This means that it is four stars grouped in two sets that are all orbiting one another. Like double twins! Lyrae is visible to the naked eye right next to the bright star Vega (also part of Lyra). With a telescope you can see the split of the binary pair. Also, in mythology, Lyra is the harp that Orpheus plays so loudly on the expedition of the Argonauts that the sailors are not tempted by the music of the Sirens.
What do you need to do before you leave?
We have a list (of course!). It’s over 400 items long. Items like “sell cars” and “learn how to homeschool”. But right now, Mike and I are focusing efforts on preparing s/v Lyrae for her next adventure. Lyrae is hauled out for approximately 4 months while we inspect, clean, install and provision every inch of her insides and outsides.
Will the kids go to school?
Forrest and Sierra will be boat schooled starting with First grade. I have a lot to learn about curriculum but I have great resources and friends available to me and I’m excited to use my organization skills to incorporate our daily experiences into the basic math and language standards. They are good kids, focus well on things they are curious about, and love the water. And I only have to teach 2 grades for 4 kids!
Can we visit you?
If you like sailing and kids, then this could be a fun opportunity to help us stay connected with friends and family! We will have additional crew with sailing experience on board for passages. We know generally where we will be when, but weather and other circumstances can always change that.
I really like music. I really like dancing. I’m 2 and I have been able to single twinkle little star for a long time. I also sing many of the lyrics to musicals that have anything to do with water and boats and/or princesses. When my mom sings the songs really loudly in the car, I tell her to be quiet so that I can sing them alone. This is a picture of me with an octopus at the Seattle Aquarium. If it was a video, you would see I’m dancing. I’m either dancing or throwing a tantrum. Those are my two moods at age 2.
I am totally obsessed with brushing hair. My mom lets me brush hers when she’s really tired and can’t stay awake. I like that. I sometimes to forget brush my own hair, but I always remember to brush my moms, my barbies, my ponies and my other dolls. My mom says that I can brush hair on the boat and so I’m excited to go on a trip on our boat.
I just started kindergarten and it is my favorite thing! Well, I also really like Wonder Woman. I was Wonder Woman for Halloween this year and got the rest of my family to dress up as superheroes. I have liked Wonder Woman since I can remember. I am going to be Wonder Woman when I grow up. I really like to meet new people. Even though I really love my sisters and brother, I’m not sure if I want to leave and be away from my new friends at school to do a big boat trip. But my mom tells me that we will get to swim almost every day in the ocean where there are fish and stuff and that is also my favorite thing, so I’m excited. Have a great day!
I am 5 and started kindegarten this year. I like it. I draw many of pictures of boats and I like Legos. Here are some pictures. I’m a fast runner and like to go on adventures with my family. I’m really excited to move onto our catamaran and explore new places and people every day. Just as long as I can still take my Legos with me and do ninja stuff.
You found us! We are a young family composed of Mike, Laura Jean and four kids (two sets of twins), eager to explore the world together. This website will serve many purposes for us and for you. For us it documents adventures of our life and the processes to achieve them. For you, it might provide inspiration for a trip or encouragement to adventure with your family in tow. Good luck with your own adventure!
This site will continuously change and be updated. We started it in 2018.
. Enjoy!
Meet the Millers 