2023: The Year of Settling In

Mar 22

Ken and I atop the lighthouse, overlooking St. Augustine.

Most people imagine the cruising life as one long vacation. But for us, 2023 was less about adventure and more about adjustment. We were learning what it means to live without physical roots while remaining rooted in what matters—our faith, family, and friendships. It was also a year of figuring out what this lifestyle actually required of us.

While we had a few small adventures in 2023, we spent most of the year working, learning new rhythms, and adjusting to our transient lifestyle. I had launched the WholeHearted Project the previous October. Most of my work could be done remotely, so I spent 2023 teaching Bible studies online and writing monthly articles on Substack. Ken, however, was still working full-time as a corporate benefits consultant, so we split our time between Brunswick, GA, and our hometown of Greenville, SC, so he could meet with clients.

We had sold our home and most of our belongings but found a fully furnished basement rental through one of Ken's coworkers—a comfortable home base whenever we came into town.

Playing games with some of the liveaboards at Brunswick Landing Marina in Brunswick. Georgia.

When in Brunswick, we continued to whittle away at the never-ending list of boat projects: replacing our sails, upgrading our electronics, and adding larger solar panels to increase our energy independence. We also began building friendships in the boating community at Brunswick Landing Marina, frequently getting together for dinner, games, or shared chores like laundry and grocery shopping.

The constant disarray of living in a boat.

Ken taking yet another trip up the mast.

We took the boat out for a few outings during the first half of the year. Easter weekend, we anchored beside some boating friends and shared brunch together. In May, we sailed down to St. Augustine and spent ten days anchored by the Bridge of Lions to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary.

The St. Augustine trip was our first real experience living on the hook (on anchor), and with it came the learning curve of conserving water and power. Life aboard a boat in beautiful places sounds glamorous, but it is often hard. Everything takes longer and is more difficult. Without a car, you walk everywhere—to groceries, laundry, and hardware stores. In some ports, everything is centrally located and within easy reach. In many places, though, you may have to walk a mile or two, which means a simple errand like doing laundry can eat up half a day or more.

Despite all that, we loved our time there. St. Augustine is charming. Founded by Spain in 1565, it has survived pirate raids, foreign invasions, and centuries of changing hands. The layers of Spanish, British, and Native American influences are clearly visible in the architecture.

One of my favorite sites is the Castillo de San Marcos, a large stone fortress that overlooks the waterfront. Built by the Spanish between 1672 and 1695, it was designed to protect the city from pirates and attacks by rival European powers. Its strong construction allowed it to survive multiple sieges, and it still stands today as the oldest masonry fort in the continental United States.

During our time in St. Augustine, we explored all the city had to offer: restaurants, lighthouses, live music in the square, coffee shops, and art galleries. Lenny Foster's art gallery was another favorite stop. We met Lenny by chance in a coffee shop and struck up a conversation. When we learned he was an artist, we set out to see his gallery, and I am so glad we did. Foster's art series, Where We Stand, is a collection of photographs exploring African American history in St. Augustine.

In each image, Foster places empty shoes at historically significant locations—such as sites of civil rights protests, churches, and former segregated spaces—to symbolically represent the people who once stood, marched, prayed, or protested there. The empty shoes, and the stories Lenny writes to accompany them, are poignant and sobering, inviting viewers to imagine "standing in their shoes." Ken and I loved learning from Lenny and hearing the stories behind each photograph.

An example of the beautiful architecture dotting St. Augustine’s landscape.

After returning from St. Augustine, life settled back into whatever our "normal" would be. One gift that has continued to grow over the past few years is the friendships we built with our neighbors on Dock 7, where Remedy was stationed. We spent many evenings sharing a potluck in the common space or feasting together on holidays like St. Patrick's Day and the Fourth of July. The relationships we formed with our Dock 7 neighbors quickly evolved from friendship into family—something for which we are profoundly grateful.

One of the things I have loved most about this life is getting to share it with others. My sister, brother-in-law, and three nieces were our first overnight visitors. They joined us for three nights in August, which is brutally hot in Georgia. Despite the heat, we visited nearby St. Simons Island, a water park on Jekyll Island, and took them out for a late afternoon cruise of the St. Simons inlet and bay.

Before we cast off the lines, Ken started telling my nieces they would see dolphins. I was leery about making promises to an 8-, 5-, and 2-year-old, but the seed was already planted, and the girls were eager. Not even ten minutes into our journey out of the marina, my middle niece Poppy was growing impatient. "CC, when are we going to see dolphins? I want to see dolphins."

Her cries grew more frequent with each passing moment. Not wanting her to be disappointed, I started praying she would see dolphins. Meanwhile, an ominous summer thundercloud was building behind us, so we decided to stay in the wide open bay until the storm passed. As we slowly motored around, someone called out, "Dolphin!" For the next hour, we were surrounded by easily a hundred dolphins playing all around the boat. It remains, to this day, one of the most incredible dolphin encounters we have ever had. I can still hear my nieces' squeals of delight.

We had a few other visitors during the year. My dad came and spent a few days with us. He and Ken share the same birthday, so we celebrated both of their birthdays at the Shrimp And Grits Festival at Jekyll Island. And Ken’s dad spent Labor Day weekend with us.

My sister, brother-in-law, and nieces are enjoying the post-dolphin, post-thunderstorm sunset in St. Simons.

Also in August, Hurricane Idalia paid us a visit. Preparing your boat for a hurricane is a surreal experience. You prepare for the worst, hope and pray for the best, and then you wait. When Idalia passed over us, it was still a Category 1 hurricane, and for the most part, it was a relatively minor event. The boats on Dock 0, closest to the bay, took the brunt of the storm and sustained some damage, but those of us on Dock 7 fared quite well.

On Labor Day weekend, we set off on a short adventure to Cumberland Island, Georgia, and Fernandina Beach, Florida—approximately three miles across the bay from one another. This time, Ken's dad and our newly adopted "kids" (thirty-something, Dock 7 friends who had recently become boat owners) joined us.

Cumberland Island is the largest and southernmost of Georgia's barrier sea islands. Accessible only by ferry—or, in our case, by dinghy—it has over 17 miles of beaches, 9,800 acres of maritime forest, and wild horses that roam freely across the island. We spent the long holiday weekend exploring, including the impressive Dungeness ruins, the remains of a home once owned by Thomas Carnegie that burned down in the 1950s.

We also spent time in Fernandina Beach, a charming seaside town with a quaint, walkable downtown. And no visit is complete without stopping at our favorite restaurant, The Wicked Bao—a delightful spot for bao buns, crispy tofu, and Asian street food.

The Dungeness Ruins on Cumberland Island, Georgia

We spent the rest of 2023 preparing to depart for our first full year of living on the hook—working remotely while traveling and exploring the Bahamas and the northeastern coast of the United States. Knowing we would be far from reliable medical care, we stocked up on essential medications and assembled a thorough first-aid kit.

We had heard that food in the Bahamas was expensive and limited in variety, so we wanted to bring as much shelf-stable food as possible. Storage on a boat is always at a premium—spare parts and engine maintenance supplies take up significant space—so stashing six months of provisions means utilizing every nook and cranny and keeping an inventory spreadsheet, since I inevitably forget where I put things.

Provisioning six months of food for us and our dog, Simah.

The coming year would be the longest we had ever gone without seeing the people we love. With our preparations complete, we headed to Greenville, SC, to spend Christmas with friends and family. It was a bittersweet time. We were excited to finally be setting off on our adventure, but heavy-hearted to be leaving so many loved ones behind.

On December 26th, we departed Greenville and headed back to Brunswick, where we spent a day or two before sailing to St. Augustine and setting our sights on the first leg of our journey. Ken's aunt Jean joined us for ten days, sailing with us to Fernandina Beach, Cumberland Island, and St. Augustine. Before pulling away from our Dock 7 friends, we took one last photo. Saying goodbye is always the hardest!

Us with some of our boat framily and Ken’s aunt Jean on our last few minutes at Brunswick Landing Marina.

After a short, brisk sail, we arrived in St. Augustine on December 29th, where we were joined by my mom and stepdad and Ken's mom and stepdad, who had booked hotel rooms in town and planned to ring in the New Year with us before we departed for the Bahamas. We spent five wonderful days enjoying one of our favorite places alongside family—once again sharing the adventure of this life with those we love.

Christmastime in St. Augustine is magical. The whole town twinkles with the warm glow of Christmas lights. After celebrating New Year's Eve on the beach watching fireworks, we said our "see you soons," pointed the bow south, and set off for the next phase of our adventure.