During the summer of 2001, my grandparents invited my family and me to embark with them on an incredible journey. The plan was to travel from Anacortes, Washington, up to Princess Louisa Inlet, in Canada. However, what made the whole ordeal special was the fact that we were going to do so without ever leaving my grandparents’ house. You see, my grandma and grandpa lived on a 48 foot yacht.
My grandfather, who was always very careful with his money, had planned a wonderful retirement for him and my grandmother. Since he was young, my grandpa had been interested in boats and living on one had been a dream of his. Through careful planning and hard work, my grandfather was able to realize that dream and share it with others.
That summer was filled with so many incredible stories and adventures, that I could probably fill a whole book with them. But for me, one of the main characters of the story was the boat itself. Grandpa appointed me as the deckhand and in doing so I was bestowed with several major responsibilities on board the ship. I tied ropes, threw over buoys and kept the deck clean and tidy, all while the ship heaved and turned in the rolling water. Growing up, I had a certain fondness for books that dealt with life on the ocean, most of which usually involved pirates and buried treasure. So for me, it was a bit of a dream come true.
The ocean was a completely different sea than the Florida water I was accustomed to. It was cold, but nonetheless filled with life. Since I was on deck so often, I was given an awesome opportunity to spot seals and whales in the water. The sea was like our own personal grocery store, in that it provided food for us. We caught crab, clam and fish as we traveled its waters, taking shelter in coves along the way. But we were never too far from the comforts of home.
The first floor of the boat had a full sized kitchen, where my grandma was often busy concocting some delicious seafood meal. On the other side of the kitchen was the dining room area, complete with a full sized dining room table. When it wasn’t being used for meals, the fluttering sound of playing cards could be heard, mixed with an occasional yell of victory or cry of defeat. Card games quickly became a favorite activity on our trip, especially when the boat was cutting through the waves. It really helped keep those of us who struggled with seasickness occupied.
Directly across from the dining room table, there was a small staircase that led into the downstairs room. That was where my family and I stayed during our voyage. There was a small bathroom, four bunk beds and a closet. Light filtered through the many portholes, casting moving reflections on the ceiling and walls. It reminded me of an aquarium. The portholes were at eye level with the sea and looking out, you could imagine what a killer whale might see when it surfaces from the cold depths of the ocean.
The boat would sway back and forth ever so slightly and the sound of the waves could be heard as they lapped up against the walls. At night, you felt like a baby being rocked to sleep by the ocean. Sleeping in that room was pure bliss.
But the comforts and splendor of living and traveling on a boat paled in comparison to the excellent company. It wasn’t often that we were able to spend time with my grandparents, since they lived so far away, but they always made it clear how much they loved us.
A few years after our summer voyage, my grandparents found that looking after a boat had become too hard on them at their age. So they ended up selling it and moving back onto land for a quieter retirement life. But the things we did that summer will always stay with me and I will never forget the memories that were made on that boat. During that trip, my grandparents were fulfilling their dream, as well as ours.
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