Our Boat: The s/v Nalani

This is our boat. We will be living on this boat for the next 15 months (with some short breaks home every 3-4 months).  She is a 2000 Moody 46 cutter named Nalani (which means "Serene Skies").  Finding her was a multi-year, multi-state process.  We traveled to Rhode Island, Maryland, California, and, finally, Florida, where Gary first met her.  We'd fallen in love with the Moody layout many years before and were waiting for just the right boat.  She was berthed in Florida, so Gary, Elliott, Gary's dad, and two of Gary's classmates from college sailed her home in April of last year.  I was a little nervous about Elliott sailing 100 miles from land, but they made it home in good time and in fairly good shape.  One storm made them a bit nervous and took out the whisker pole, but other than that, it was a smooth cruise.

We have two staterooms, both with adjoining full heads.  A double bunkroom is on the port side adjacent to the forward cabin.  A pilot berth sits above tool lockers in the companionway next to the aft cabin, but in order to sleep there, a small portion of the bulkhead can be removed to allow the feet to stretch through.  There is a decent-sized galley with lots of storage and includes a microwave, freezer, and good-sized fridge.  No more iceboxes for us!  The boat, when we bought her, had so much electronics on board; THREE televisions (really?), and lots of stereo equipment, hundreds of pounds of which have been removed.  Her layout is comfortable and she's a real beauty.  A center cockpit really changes the way you feel when you sail.  Our old boat, which is for sale, is a 1969 Morgan 34.  She's a great sailer and wonderful for the bay as she only draws three feet, but it used to make my kids nervous when we heeled while moving.  With Nalani, that sensation is much lessened.

The cockpit is large enough to allow for a good-sized group to enjoy a sail and, on cool and bug-free nights, provides a good spot for comfy sleep.  Our sitting areas are blue, not the yellow as shown above.

Having a larger boat is a little scary at times, especially coming into our slip.  Pushing off on the Morgan was a breeze; pushing off the pilings with this big momma is a lot of hard work.  Took me by surprise the first time I was asked to help out.  Even with all my might, nothing was happening until my son came over to help.

The boat has heat and air conditioning, but even though some of these days have been brutal, we've not used the air so that we can acclimate to the conditions, which will come in handy when we travel to tropical climes later in the year.  I could see us using it at some point at dock, but anchored out, it is very rare not to have any air movement at all.

One of our favorite parts of the boat is the swim transom; this is part of the boat that swings down in the back to provide a platform on which to stand, sit, and eventually jump in the water for a swim.  It also makes getting into our dinghy so much easier than going over the side with a ladder.  

So, that is Nalani, our current home; when she came into the family, we had a list of 81 things to fix.  After a bit, that list grew, but it is slowly going down.  Advice to those who are buying a boat; check the little things.  While this boat is awesome, we would have loved not having to do any maintenance in order to leave the dock.  Wait!  What am I thinking?  This is a boat.  The old saying is true -- A boat is a hole in the water you throw money into.  But just remember, there's much fun to be had before and after that throwing.

Train of Thought When Presented With the Idea of Being on a Boat for 15 Months

Well, okay, really?

But my GRANDBABIES!

Okay, maybe I can do it.  What about all the provisioning?  What if I forget something?  What if we run out of horseradish when we're only halfway up the oceanside of the U.S.?

I really am not a sailor, you know.  I may have been sailing for 20+ years, but it's really been passive sailing.  Gary always takes care of anything and would prefer it that way.  My skills are not up to snuff.   Plus, I have PTSD--I've forgotten everything I never knew about sailing anyway.

And what about my GRANDBABIES!?!?!?  I need to see them every couple of days, really, or they will forget me.  And I live for those baby hugs (and the sweet times I spend with their parents).

Do I need a license to sail?  Do I need a title?  Do I need a special hat?  I like hats.

What about my house concerts?  I need them and the camaraderie they bring to my life every month.  Yikes.

Aren't I too fat?  How can these old bones scramble all over the boat anymore?  Maybe 10 years ago . . . .

I will miss my girlfriends and our monthly gatherings.  I love my girlfriends.  Can we invite them on the boat for the weekend?  And you just not come?  Oh.

So, I found a really cool website and I'm going to buy everything she recommends for every part of the boat so that I feel secure.  Okay, maybe it won't work, but I'll feel better going into it having spent all this money.  Understand?  Oh.

Did you see the cute T-shirts I bought?  This one says, "Captain."  No, it's not for you, it's for me.   Oh.

What if I fall off the boat and you don't notice and I get eaten by sharks?  Oh.

Spar Trek:  Boldly Golden Where Nalani Has Never Been Before (thank you, Tim Garrett)

I blame it all on the boy.  Almost from the time he could speak, my youngest son has wanted to go to "boat school," the on-the-sea form of home school.  We always played along with him, though Gary had the more wistful look in his eye.  I never banked on it really happening.  I figured the more years I acquired and the more weight under my belt would make the idea less attractive.

Then we found THE boat.  And then we bought her.  Uh-oh.  It got serious all of a sudden.  So last winter, our now 15-year-old says that he wanted to be homeschooled for his sophomore year in high school.   My husband's brain, psycho computer that it is, thought that if the son wanted to be homeschooled, maybe we could do something as a family that would make it a fantastic learning experience.  Thus, this odyssey was born.

We moved aboard a week ago.  I got sick with an upper respiratory infection the same day.  It was also hot as hell and very uncomfortable.   More than a few times, I threw my hands up in the air saying, "I'm already so over this."  But stuff got unpacked and stowed, I got meds, and the weather has cooled to only slightly uncomfortable temperatures.  Plus, the restaurant at the top of the hill makes some pretty fine sweet tea, an anchoring tie if ever there was one.