“Are you the one with the white van?” the man asked me.

“Yeah,” I answered curiously. “Oh shoot! Did we park it in the wrong spot?” We had parked our rented minivan at the very end of the parking lot. It looked (?) like it was a spot but the half gravel/half grass lot wasn’t very delineated. It’s a super casual marina.

“No, it’s fine but it almost caused me some trouble this morning,” he laughed. “I had to pull a bigger vehicle through that gap, but it was no big deal.”

“Got it. *Pause* Wait. How did you know I was the one with the white van?”

“I just knew,” he grinned with a wink. He was in his mid-50’s and was a big guy, like he had been a football player in college. We definitely would have been friends (I was buddies with a lot of the football players). He gave off a strong, confident, positive vibe, a fun blend of Jimmy Buffett and Del Griffith from Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

I laughed. “We’re selling our boat so we’re in the process of moving everything off and we wanted to be as close to the dock as possible,” I explained, ready to end the conversation and continue to look for one of the marina’s elusive carts.

“Ah.” And then he looked straight at me and smiled. “It’s going to be okay.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeated. I suddenly had surprise tears in my eyes. “Now, don’t go crying on me, Sweetie. I’m a delivery captain and I’ve seen this a million times. You’re going to be okay. You’ll need to do your processing thing and get through all of that which takes a while, but at the end of all of that, you’ll look back on this time and realize that you actually had a pretty good time. And then one day you’ll end up buying another boat….or you won’t. And either way is fine. You’re going to be okay.”

I looked right back at him. This was so unexpected. I mean, I was just looking for a cart. “You sure?”

“Yup. Positive. Alright, bring it in,” and he motioned for a hug and I happily obliged. When we parted, he quickly followed up with, “was it good for you? Because it was definitely good for me,” and I laughed really hard. In fact, I laugh just thinking about that interaction.

His name is Captain Joshua. Right now, he’s somewhere in Puerto Rico on another delivery. Before he left, we gave him several large bags of food that we weren’t going to be able to use. He lives on the boat called “Sea King” that is catty-corner to ours. In the words of Clint, our boat broker, Captain Joshua is our “break glass in case of emergency” guy if we have a last-minute showing and need someone to give a tour of the boat. So glad we have one of those. We also have our neighbors, John and Neda, across from us who also promised to keep an eye on things for us. John saw me hugging the anchor so Addie could take a photo the other day. I didn’t realize he was there until I heard him laugh and say “I totally get that and feel the exact same way about mine.”

Gosh, I love these people.

It’s 9:05AM on Thursday, June 26th. Today is our last day on the boat. Our last few hours as a family with Layla. Steve and I will need to come back to her at some point to bring a few spare sails back from St. Louis (the previous owner had stored those sails in what is now Addie’s room), but other than that, this is it. We plan to leave at noon (which means we’ll actually leave at 2:00). We could probably leave within the hour if we wanted to, but we all collectively decided last night at dinner that we wanted to have a leisurely morning. And that’s what we’re doing.

I have my instant coffee in my mug from Southport next to me. The fountain-like sounds of the water cycling through the air conditioning pumps of the nearby boats are all around me. “Evolution,” the boat that had been docked next to us, is no longer there and now we’re the last boat on the end of the dock which means we have a much better view. Oh friends, it’s beautiful.

It doesn’t seem real. We have packed and unpacked so many times since being on this boat that what we’ve been doing in the last three days almost feels like a routine occurrence. If it wasn’t for the fact that we have taken down all of our decorations, or that I saw Sid Orange Glowing all of the walls and Addie tightening all of the hatches yesterday, I would be able to convince myself that we were just leaving for a bit. But we’re not. This is it.

Ugh.

It’s the right decision. I’m sure of that, but the sadness of leaving her is considerable. I really haven’t cried too much. *Pause to ponder because that doesn’t sound like me* Actually, no. That’s a lie. Scratch that. I’m now remembering my spiraling crying in Western Massachusetts where I was questioning everything and beating myself up and now I’m remembering my time in Hoboken with my best friend, Hannah, when I was doing the same. *chuckle* Yeah, scratch that. Ha. I’ve definitely cried. I think what I meant is that I haven’t cried specifically about leaving Layla lately. I’ve definitely moved through a lot of sadness about the boat adventure ending and what that means and the loss of the vision that I had for our boat life family and all of the things that I thought that we would do that we won’t do. Some were serious hopes like taking my parents and my brother’s family sailing and hanging out with them in our boat home. And some were completely ridiculous pipe dreams like having impromptu family band sessions in the cockpit together. Of course, Sid is the only one who really plays an instrument, but Addie and I were beginning to learn the ukulele and I did buy Steve a harmonica two years ago… Or that Addie and Sid would become the super capable boat kids I had read about who instinctively tie up fenders without help or who can estimate latitude and longitude off of the top of their heads or speak Spanish because they ‘just picked it up along the way.’ I’ve had to remind myself that those things could actually still happen if we really want them to, if they are really important to us. They aren’t boat-dependent, and they definitely aren’t Layla-dependent. The kids can still learn Spanish. I can still learn to play the ukulele. I just won’t be playing in Layla’s cockpit. But maybe I’ll play in a different boat someday. Actually, let’s change that—I WILL play in a different boat someday. Just not likely to be my boat.

There’s been a lot of sporadic internal reminiscing lately. This morning as I was lying in bed, I was enjoying listening to the bilge pump.

Ha. I just re-read that sentence and, my gosh, it sounds completely absurd, but yes, I am serious.

It’s a relatively quiet, routine background noise now, but it automatically comes on every five minutes or so to pump out any water that has collected from condensation, random leaks, etc. That bilge pump was installed in July of last year. All four of us were anxiously excited to leave for Carowinds, the amusement park in Charlotte, on our way back to St. Louis when our old bilge pump went off……………..and didn’t stop going off. And, friends, our former bilge pump was LOUD! SOOOO LOUD! We had to manually turn it off when it malfunctioned. But, you definitely don’t want to leave a boat for any length of time without a working bilge pump, so, for the very first time, we had a broken part that held us up and we needed to get someone there fast.

The dockmaster in New Bern, NC recommended a father/son company called 12 Volt and, less than an hour later, they turned up.

*August 1, 2024 - Working on the bilge pump.*

It took them awhile to assess the problem and run out to get a new pump but when the job was fairly underway, we felt comfortable enough to leave them on the boat and go to the amusement park. Little did we know that the son in that father/son duo, Colyn, would fast become a forever friend. Colyn is in his mid 20’s, has a history degree, knows everything there is to know about electrical systems, loves to cook and loves to play video games. Our whole family quickly fell in love with him. Colyn, his girlfriend Luann and their cat, Sh#tty (there’s a funny story and a very good reason why the cat has that name), are undoubtedly, one of our big highlights from this adventure.

*Hanging out at Colyn and Luann’s brand new apartment. They lived on a boat for years but recently moved to land.*

And that meeting happened because our bilge pump broke. And so this morning, when I was listening to the click-click-whirrrrrrrrrr-click-click of our now-quiet bilge pump, I was really thinking about Colyn. There’s a story and a lot of love behind that piece of our boat. I’m sentimental about a bilge pump! What was a really frustrating moment of us trying to get to Carowinds (does this pattern sound familiar?) turned out to be an introduction to a good friend who taught us how to cook my kids’ now-favorite soup (chicken-gnocchi) in our now-favorite “Colyn” pot.

*Cooking lessons in the marina living room. (Sid was playing video games with Luann and apparently he met his match!)*

*Colyn teaching Addie how to strip wire while he installed our new solar panels and Starlink.*

And next week, we’ll be back in Western Massachusetts. And we’re only going there because we met these amazing people, Claire and Jon, when we were stuck in Southport, NC when we were trying to get to the Bahamas (there’s that pattern again!). And we will be friends with Claire and Jon forever. They have touched our lives profoundly. I’m a decent person, but Claire is other-worldly in terms of her generosity and kindness (Jon, you are too, but I met Claire first 😊). She makes me want to be a better person. I’m grateful we got stuck in Southport. To self: Didja hear that, Holl? You’re GRATEFUL you got stuck in Southport. Oh my dear self, please remember this lesson in the future, k?

*Hanging out with Jon and Claire in Southport while Sid and Addie walked their dog, Bailey.*

*Big deep breath*

The people we have met on this journey (oh, here come the tears) have been extraordinary. Boat people are extraordinary. When Steve and I delivered Layla with Captain Blaine last year from St. Augustine to New Bern, we arrived just after sunset and we were utterly exhausted. Our new neighbors came out to catch our lines and thank God they did because to this day, that was, by far, the hardest marina we have ever had to dock in. Different story for a different day. Anyway, they caught our lines and after we made it off of the boat (wasn’t easy), the dreadlocked woman in her early 60s introduced herself as Gigi, introduced her husband, Aaron, and invited us over for a drink. We declined due to fatigue and explained that we had to Uber to the airport early the next morning. She immediately said “oh, you’ll never get an Uber out here. What time do you need to leave? I’ll drive you.”

This woman had just met us for the first time no more than five minutes before. The airport was a 30-40 minute one way drive. I initially refused (I mean, we had JUST met this woman) but she insisted. I told her that we were planning to leave around 8:30. She told me just to knock on the hull of her boat when we were ready to go.

Sure enough, the next morning, I knocked on her hull and she was ready to go. I told her that we needed to stop by the office to sort out a few things and she said “well, I’ll start taking everything to the car” and without delay hopped off of her boat...

…and then she casually lifted our bags and started walking to her car like she did this all the time.

Friends, I had spoken to this woman for a sum total of three minutes in my entire life. And now I was letting her, a total stranger (oh, a fish just jumped up!), grab all of our stuff and put it in her car and then take us to the airport…? I mean, she could be a total lunatic. In what world was this normal??? In my real life would I just hand over all of my stuff to a total stranger and let them pack it in the trunk of their car? Absolutely not. But……oddly, it felt……right. Normal.

I remember looking at Blaine with a “is this okay?” kind of look. He laughed at me and said “you’ll find that boat people are the best.” And then I had the epiphany that I had only met him (!) for the first time only seven days earlier. And that I would completely trust him with my life (and that I actually DID trust him with my life quite literally). He was family now.

*June 2024 - Pretending we’re going to crash with Captain Blaine.*

June 2024 - Steve and Blaine had just worked through an engine issue during a thunderstorm and then the sun came out. At this point, we were about an hour away from our final destination of New Bern, NC.

We did quickly learn that boat people are incredible. My family and I have countless tales and stories to back that up. Like when our other next door New Bern boat neighbor, Mark, came over at 9:30 at night to help us think through one of our many toilet issues and ended up unexpectedly getting his hands dirty (yes, dirty with that…gross!) and just laughed and said “this is just what we do for each other out here. People have done this kind of stuff for us over the years and I have no doubt that you’ll pay it forward and help others on your journey, too.”

And we will, whether we’re on a boat or not. Promise.

*quiet sigh*

Oh, friends….I don’t want to leave this perfect cockpit seat right now. I have my coffee. I have the water sounds, the cool breeze, the shade. This is a perfect moment. I want to bottle it up and keep it forever. I think that’s been a big motivation for this blog. I want to keep this moment and the other moments and hold them and remember them as vividly as I can forever. To make sure that I know it all really happened. It was real. Someday soon I’ll be living my typical suburban mom life. But we really did live on a boat. Just the four of us. It really happened.

Yesterday I made a list in my journal about many of the things I love and will miss about Layla and boat life. To balance things out, I also made a list of the things I will not miss. They were both very long lists.

We will be back on the water someday. Just not on Layla. We will charter. Our family loves the water too much to not be on a boat again. (Oh the wind just picked up a bit and the smell of the salt water just got stronger….gosh, I love that smell…I will miss that smell!) And now we have too many friends who live on the water not to hang out with them again.

Mary, Mindy, Goldi, Sarah, Brandi, Jessi, Beth….sail on, ladies! Please keep us posted on your adventures. I will be half envious of your beach/sunset photos and swimming with sharks stories and half relishing real showers, dry sheets and a dishwasher. And please (!) feel free to call or text to vent or scream. I will very much understand where you’re coming from and will have my empathy ears ready for you.

Right now, it’s time for me to pack up the final few items and then spot clean any areas we missed yesterday. I imagine we will once again turn on the soundtrack to Operation Mincemeat. All four of us are constantly singing those songs these days. In fact, Addie and I heard Steve and Sid singing and whistling through the thin marina shower walls yesterday and we chimed in to sing with them. Ha! I’m sure everyone in the marina loved hearing the Swift family rendition of “Spilsbury Reprise.” Oy!)

Thankfully, we are all good. Lots of laughing lately. Onwards.

(Ha! I swear on everything holy that some sort of fin or tail (?) just popped up out of the water on our portside. Maybe a farewell wave from our underwater friends? Thank you, friend!)

Signing off from SV Layla in St. Augustine, FL,

Holly, Steve, Sid & Addie

PS - It’s now much later in the day and I am pleased to inform you that yes, Steve somehow managed to Tetris all of our important stuff into the car.

6/26/25 - Reflections from Layla

6/23/25 - Steve