The Space Between [#23]

The distance between my side of the bed and my toilet is exactly three small steps. From my bed to the galley? Eight. From there, a mere four more lands me on the couch.

As it turns out, the Ruby Vi is not a place where Fitbit-wearing, 10,000-step-counting souls will thrive.

It is, however, a solid choice for anyone who enjoys being within arm’s reach of the fridge while still sitting at the salon table. Literal space onboard — even being generous — is tight and tiny.

But the space between — the figurative space this journey is creating — is Vegas-buffet-ginormous.

On January 20th — after five weeks anchored off Monument Beach on Stocking Island — we left Georgetown, Exuma. Now, a month later, we’ve explored White Cay, much of Long Island, the Channel Cays, and Conception Island — including some of the most jaw-droppingly-spectacular patches of this planet we’ve ever seen.

We knew all along that the water — that looks as if all the world’s blue and green gemstones have melted into liquid awesomesauce — would, in fact, be awesome.

We knew living on top of an aquarium and snorkeling and diving through skyscrapers of coral would be breathtaking — that sailing our home to places around the world accessible only by boat (or float plane) would be bucket-list-worthy.

The beaches, the sunshine, the salty air… Yes, yes, and yes. We fully expected — actually counted on — those pieces of the Ruby Vi puzzle to be show-stoppers.

We figured the tight and tiny portions of our living space and our downsized (to say the least) lives were simply the sacrificial fees of doing business with dream-chasing.

Don’t get me wrong, some days I’d give three toes for a Home Goods down the road and a drive-thru Starbucks.

And, quite frankly, on any given day of any week, I’d throw in a pinky finger for a clothes dryer (or even just one night’s sleep on sheets that feel all-the-way-dry).

But these days, most of the time, the cool showers outside on the sugar scoop every three or four days; the water-rationing; the, shall we say, creative, budget-minded grocery shopping; the 24/7 family togetherness; and the general lack of “stuff” feel more like a gift than a sacrifice.

It’s not-so-much that Boat Life has taught us how to find joy in the little things, but rather, given us ample opportunities to practice actually doing it.

On February 4th, Wyatt turned 16. He woke up to a reused birthday banner and a handful of reused gift bags.

Perhaps the most “exciting” of which contained strawberry milkshake-flavored PopTarts, a tub of Betty Crocker frosting, and a hand-scribbled coupon good for joyriding in the dinghy.

(Mind you, this magic was in lieu of keys to an actual car and a party with his buddies.)

His response?

 "YES! Where did you find "strawberry milkshake" flavor?!

I can confidently say that Land-Based-Wyatt would not have met these it’s-the-thought-that-counts boat-gifts with anywhere near the same level of genuine gratitude.

Space between.

Big Happys resulting from Small Wins is not uncommon aboard our floating tiny-home.

Each day Ruby Vi lets us live through uncomplicated toilet flushing is a downright privilege. Every time the laundry drying on the lifelines gets mostly-dry and makes it back inside before a rain squall hits, we’re winners.

Trophy-worthy moments abound:

• I found the thing I lost when I was “organizing”
• The generator ran for over an hour before it died but then started again
• The predicted 1.3 meter ocean swells are actually 1.2 meters
• There’s enough power to make ice
• The fuel dock has free potable water
• We have a weather window (and enough provisions onboard to actually take it)
• The coffee’s not gone

Space between.

Of course, there are the more obvious glory-laden victories — like the week we just spent with our besties aboard who, for all the money and airline miles and hotel points and vacation time and.., and…, and…, traveled to our obscure little patch of paradise to share a week of the Boat Dream with us.

Like a fart in a car, Boat Life doesn’t take long to introduce itself.

Over the span of a mere seven days, our beloved new crew members endured more than their fair share of hashtag-boatlife:

1. A broken generator (which led to an unrivaled level of extreme water-rationing)
2. A rental car expedition around the island (complete with two flat tires and only one working spare)
3. A trip to the medical clinic
4. A midnight rain squall that absolutely soaked the kids sleeping outside

But, if you wait long enough, Ruby Vi will giveth as willingly as she taketh away.

• Turns out, side-of-the-road-flat-tire-changing is the foundation for a day of epic adventure
• The med clinic showed us that, like nearly everything else in The Bahamas, prescription-strength Motrin is shockingly gorgeous
• Crystal clear water and powdered sugar sand beaches never disappoint
• The quality of time spent with best friends is in no way lessened by having to wash dishes in salt water
• Fixing the generator before the trip ends is comparable to winning Olympic Gold

As I sit here thinking about finding joy in unexpected places — pondering how, despite an almost-comical list of obvious mishaps and (mostly-small) misfortunes, this week will still go down in Molly History as an all-time fave — I wonder if that’s another gift from Ruby Vi, or maybe Sailboat Magic — to be able to translate ridiculousness into adventure.

I’d be blowing smoke if I told you Land-Molly would’ve been able to overlook the comedy of errors we tripped over like a Domino train.

Of course, I’d have still reveled in the bliss of a week spent with dear friends, but I think Land-Molly might’ve found herself stuck agonizing over the 847 ways it could’ve been better.

Boat-Molly loved every second of every single minute

— a high compliment to the staggering splendidness of our friends, no doubt, but also maybe a slight nod to the Rubes.

Throughout our nine months aboard, Ruby Vi has shown us that hidden between our “sacrifices” are itty bitty spaces packed with worlds of amazeballs. What’s more, she’s given us the time to figure out how to relish them.

As it turns out, therein lies everything we never knew would make our journey so remarkable.