Living aboard a long-distance cruising yacht can best be described as a balance of effort and reward. For my wife Dori and me, our life aboard Liberdade is equal parts labor and leisure, challenge and fulfillment. It also requires constant vigilance in how we balance the opposing forces between the two of us. If we’re not careful, one of us could be enjoying more of the leisure and the other expending more of the labor.
For anyone considering this life, know that it is a significant undertaking. When most people think of living aboard a boat, they picture a carefree image of sailing through azure waters, with cocktails at sunset, yet the reality is much less glamorous. Our daily routine is more of an ongoing negotiation with Mother Nature and a fire-breathing mechanical beast. But of course, there is more to it than this. Our experience has been the effort and unpredictability, are just the entry fee to something greater—an intimacy with the sea, a sense of freedom, and the satisfaction of coexistence within an environment that itself alternates between beautiful and unforgiving.
Dori and I share a basic belief: Anything worth doing is worth doing well. This shared philosophy is the compass by which we navigate not only our boat, but our life together. Before buying our first boat, we committed ourselves to becoming students of the art and science of boating. We trained ourselves in the necessities of boat maintenance, navigation, safety and meteorology. A long-distance cruising yacht isn’t forgiving of half-measures or casual neglect. Every system demands attention. We learned the hard way that even the smallest oversight can lead to big problems when you’re hundreds of miles from the nearest marina.
The boat requires not only mental acuity, but also physical effort. Some days we spend hours just cleaning and organizing. Another day could be consumed with repairing an unexpected failure of a system. Aboard the boat, teamwork is not optional—it is essential. We have learned to read each other’s moods, and to respect each other’s strengths, dividing responsibilities to suit our individual talents. Dori has an eye for detail and is excellent at organization, while I tend to focus on the navigation and maintenance. I’ve learned to pay attention if Dori says: “I smell something” or asks, “do you hear that whine?” Our unspoken agreement to approach every problem as partners has been as important as any manual or safety checklist.
Then there are the rewards that defy quantifying. Watching the sunrise in an empty anchorage—the world silent except for the gentle slap of waves against the hull. Discovering hidden coves, the kind you can only reach by boat. Sharing meals with fellow cruisers, swapping stories and tips, enjoying a sense of community in an all too disconnected world. These moments remind us why we’ve chosen this life and why the effort feels less like work and more like a purpose.
Truth be known, we’ve had our moments of doubt, we’ve questioned if the reward is worth the effort it takes to live this life. On more than one occasion, we would have been willing to hand someone the keys and wish them luck. But those times have only increased our appreciation for the time we spend aboard and respect for each other. Every storm we weather together, literally or figuratively, strengthens our trust and partnership, which benefits not only our cruising life, but our marriage.
Perhaps the greatest gift of living this way is perspective. When you’re hundreds of miles from shore, watching the horizon blur into the sky, you realize how small you are in the grand scheme of things—how extraordinary it is to carve out a tiny bit of solitude for yourself in this hectic world. It’s a reminder that life, like the sea, is unpredictable, humbling, and endlessly rewarding for those willing to put in the effort.
For Dori and me, cruising aboard our boat isn’t just a voyage across the water; it is a voyage inward, towards a better understanding of ourselves, our relationship, and the world around us. The work we put into this is appreciated in every uneventful passage and every quiet moment of awe. The balancing act that plays out aboard Liberdade mirrors the balancing act in our broader life. Our life aboard asks a lot of us, but it gives back tenfold.
