Life on Maelstrom 0

Toques for tans, blankets for bikinis…

Sat, 24 May 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Hello friends, and greetings from sunny, warm and beautiful Valletta, Malta.

It feels like just yesterday Ron, and I were crossing over from Albania to Italy to begin our 90-day Schengen stay and just like that, the 3 months is nearly over and it is time to say goodbye to Europe once again.

And it’s a good thing too…not sure how much longer I can convince Ron that just because the other European men wear speedos and cut-off jean shorts, does not mean he needs to as well. I totally get the custom of ‘living like the locals’ but…yikes :)

I am not sure if it is the much warmer weather, the spectacular scenery, the fact that we seem to be settling in, or a combination of it all – but these last 3 months have been pretty amazing…and a lot closer to what we had both imagined when we began planning this adventure several years ago.

Last time I posted we were waiting for a favorable weather window to leave our spot under the volcano at Etna and head south. That window opened on April 18, and we embarked on the 100 NM overnight sail down the east coast and around the most southern tip of Sicily to Marina di Ragusa.

Along the way we got to race a pod of dolphins (they swam with our boat for more than 10 minutes – it was so cool), watch Etna erupt again, experience the most beautiful moon rise, and not have to wear parkas or mittens. Bliss!!!!

Marina di Ragusa is a beautiful, but very busy, tourist spot. For us, it was sensory overload. Since leaving Sanremo back in September we had not been around many people. In fact, when we were at Orikum, we would go days without seeing anyone except the security guards. Being a super-social person, I am not saying I necessarily loved the solitude, but I had gotten used to the quiet. The marina at Ragusa was absolutely jammed full of boats and loud, albeit friendly, families who were wintering there (Europeans who don’t have to play the Schengen shuffle – lucky bastards).

It was finally warm enough to enjoy the sandy beaches, restaurant terraces, long bike rides along the coast and the social scene. But for the first time I was more excited to get back to sailing than staying put.

Our weather window to sail the 50 NM down to Malta presented itself on April 29. A quick, uneventful day trip acoss the Sicily-Malta Channel landed us at anchor in Ghadira Bay – a lovely little harbour surrounded by beaches, cliffs and the most vibrant cerulean blue water I have ever seen in real life. It was the best of both worlds – entertaining people watching from the quiet comfort of our boat in the middle of the bay, close proximity via dinghy to shops and restaurants, uniquely positioned to see both sun rises and sun sets each day. A week of daily swims (with Ron watching me like a hawk – still not too comfortable with me swimming far from the boat in the open ocean), afternoon sun downers and even visits from fellow sailors on other boats in the anchorage, it was the perfect spot.

Unfortunately, just like in Mary Poppins, the wind changed direction, and we had to say goodbye.

Our current spot Valletta, the capitol city of Malta, has not been as serene, but it has been just as beautiful. This rock in the middle of the ocean has been ruled by countless empires, is the most multi-cultural place (food, people, languages) we have visited since we left Canada, and is overflowing with history. It is no wonder it was a major filming location for Game of Thrones – in fact, from our boat we can see the spot where Pedro Pascale’s character got his head squished (eek!).

I don’t really want to leave. But leave we must.

So, what’s next? Africa.

In about a week’s time we will set sail again. This time 200 NM west (about 45 hours) to Port Kantaoui in Tunisia (with a possible layover in Lampedusa). And with an authentic 11-day Kenyan safari booked (tented camps, daily Jeep game drives, lions, elephants and everything), to say I am excited is a huge understatement. Bucket list item for sure. I look forward to telling you all about it in my next blog post.

Until then, I will leave you with a quote that I hope inspires you as much as it has me: “If you risk nothing, then you risk everything."

May you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity, xo

Moon rise en route from Etna to Marina di Ragusa. Golfo di Noto.

Best seat in the house while underway. Straight ahead...Malta. Sicily-Malta Channel.

We called this place 'Tom Cruise's Bar' (from Cocktail). It has a real name but not sure what it was...despite having frequented it many times while staying at Ragusa. Marina di Ragusa, Sicily.

Ghadira Bay anchorage, view from our boat at night. Mellieha Bay, Malta.

This little Nightjar stowaway decided to hitch a ride from Sicily to Malta. He left us for a fishing boat near shore. We were good company but they had better food. Sicily-Malta Channel.

Our view from the boat at night in Valetta. Ta' Xbiex, Malta.

Game of Thrones filiming location. Manoel Island, Malta.

Valletta, Malta.

Oh look, we're drinking wine again. The activity doesn't change - just the geogrpahy. In old town Valletta they use the narrow and steep alleys in between the buildings as terraced patios. Steep hills, cobble stones and wine...what could go wrong?

In my last blog I posted the pic of my hand next to the giant red pepper. These enormous asparagus are next level - lol!!!!

It's just so pretty here...

...I mean, come on.

But alas, we have to go...before Ron starts to think that this European hair style is also a good idea.

One thunder bolt (ha, ha, ha), two thunderbolts...

Mon, 14 Apr 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Ciao everyone and greetings from Riposto, Sicily.

It has been a little over a month since my last blog post and Maelstrom and her crew have most definitely been on the move.

52 NM across the Ionian Sea from Orikum, Albania to Otranto, Italy. 25 NM down the heel of the boot to Santa Maria di Leuca. 72 NM across the Gulf of Taranto to Crotone, then 134 NM along the sole of Italy and across to Porto dell'Etna at Riposto, Sicily. We will sail 99 NM to Ragusa this Friday (weather permitting of course). After a couple of weeks there we will say 'arrivederci' to Italy/Sicily and head to Malta, where we hope to spend a month or so, before heading south-west to Tunisia at the beginning of June.

Being on the move feels a lot closer to the sailing adventure Ron and I had envisioned. As with anything, there are good parts and new/challenging parts.

So grab a coffee, or better yet a glass of wine, and I'll tell you all about it :)

Overnight crossings have become our thing. As it happens, the distances to our chosen destinations have required us to sail overnight if we want to arrive well within daylight hours. And while it may sound counter-intuitive, it is actually easier to bump along at 5 NM/hour across a big expanse of open water when it is pitch-dark than it is to navigate land, shallows, fishing buoys, and perform anchoring or docking maneuvers when you can't see sh*t.

We were about 12 hours into our sail from Crotone to Riposto when our "confident sailing in the dark mojo" got interrupted by a new phenomenon: lightning.

I'll paint the scene: Ron finished his watch at last light, gave me the debrief on our sail trim, wind speed/angle, gusts, wave action and the bogeys he was tracking on AIS and then went below for some well-deserved rest. I was getting myself settled in for my shift. Music: check. Big mug of hot tea: check. Safety gear, and extra warm clothes: check. Feeling good. Then it happened. The whole bloody sky lit up like a freakin' Christmas tree.

As a rule, I am not afraid of thunderstorms - but as a rule, I don't walk around wide-open fields with a giant metal pole in my hand when they are happening either. Being the only vessel on the water for miles with a big ole' lightning rod reaching up to the sky - that's exactly what it felt like.

Now, the lightning didn't just appear all of a sudden when the sun went down. The scariest part is the lightning had been there the whole time...we just couldn’t see it. In the light of day we could see the clouds in the distance. We could see they were no where near us. We could see that we were fine. But in the cloak of darkness, those far-away clouds with their far-away lightning felt like they were directly on top of us. No matter how many times we checked radar for the cloud coverage/movement, or the weather apps for the reported lightning strikes - all validating the lightning was not going to be in our path - I could not shake the overwhelming anxiety that manifested in my heart each time the lightning struck, forcing poor Ron to spend his time-off sleeping in the helm station with me so I did not freak out.

The learnings: a deep dive into CAPE (Convective Available Potential Energy) and its role in safe sail planning, assurance (more or less) that scary things don't get closer or more dangerous just because it is dark, and continued gratefulness that Ron and I typically take turns being the irrational lunatic...and we need to keep it that way.

Anyways :) Other fun things from the last 6 weeks, with highly credible ratings:

>>Taormina is by far the most beautiful place we have visited so far. I totally understand why it was selected as the filming location for White Lotus Season 2 (love that show!!!). Pics below. 5 stars

>>With the warmer weather comes more foot traffic at the marinas. This means random people stop at your boat, stare in, and often take pictures. Maelstrom tends to be one of the bigger vessels (although never the biggest) and attracts a lot of attention. Living in a fishbowl is taking some getting used to. 2 stars

>>Being docked at the bottom of an active volcano (Mt. Etna) is the coolest thing ever! We did a trek to the top (~3000M above sea level) and somehow hit the jackpot getting to watch it erupt while having dinner on the boat a few days later. Pics below. 5 stars

>>Food and wine. We're in Italy. Enough said :) 5 stars

>>Watching the world go crazy, and my investment portfolio bounce around more than Maelstrom in high seas. 0 stars

>>Watching the Flames work really hard for that coveted playoff spot. 5 stars - come on Flames, just a couple more wins.

>>Learning or seeing something brand new, every single day, that makes me eternally grateful for the opportunity and privilege this adventure has afforded us...100 stars :)

Well, that's it for now. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who is following along and reaching out with love and support. Your messages and kind words make us feel not so far away. Although, if anyone can figure out how to send me Kraft Dinner, Twizzlers and Hot Tamales (I miss them sooo much) I would be forever in your debt.

Until next time, may you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity, xo

Some pics from the last six weeks:

Otranto, Italy.

More pics from Otranto, Italy. Loved this little medieval fort town.

Santa Maria di Leuca, Italy. It was a chilly stay with not much to do being out of season for this tourist/beach destination.

But even though there was not much to do...Santa Maria di Leuca was certainly beautiful.

Crotone, Italy. A pretty little port town with miles of beaches. Come May, this spot will be hopping with tourists.

My small hands might exaggerate the point, but the size of the produce here is crazy. It's amazing what happens when your growing season is all-year-long.

You bring your container and they fill it with wine. Delicious, amazing, wine. At 2 euros/liter. Heaven!!!! Etna Wines in Riposto, Sicily.

Our guided trek to the top of Mt. Etna. Car, then cable car, then cat, then feet. ~3000M above sea level. If I imagine what Mars would look like, I think this is it.

Mt. Etna.

They carve out the snow for the cats. Everything looks like a B&W picture. Mt. Etna.

View of Mt. Etna from our spot at the marina when she is not erupting (just letting off a little steam).

View of Mt. Etna from our spot at the marina when she IS erupting. Sounded like thunder for hours leading up to the event. Crazy cool!!!!!

PS. YouTube videos are Ron's responsibility and to say he has been lax in getting them published is a serious understatement. We have lots of videos to share (including of the eruption) ...if you want to see them, please send him a nudge. A girl can only nag so much - especially is these close quarters. Remember - any man/woman overboard event should be regarded as suspicious.

Taormina, Sicily. Stupid beautiful. Like - how is this place real? beautiful.

Taormina, Sicily.

A pretty great spot for a glass of wine. Taormina, Sicily.

The best part of Sicily is they bring you tasty snacks every time you order a drink. Thank goodness we brought all of our workout stuff onto the boat.

A (reluctant) love letter...

Sat, 08 Mar 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Greetings from Otranto, Italy

Wait, what? Somewhere other than Albania???? Yep, it's true - Maelstrom and her crew are finally on the move.

At 2:30pm on Thursday we pulled out of the Orikum marina and after a quick stop at the Vlore Port to check out of the country, we pointed ourselves towards Italy and began our 13-hour overnight sail to Otranto. To say we are glad to no longer be stationary is a huge understatement, but try as I may, I cannot say leaving Albania is without mixed feelings.

So, here it is, my reluctant love letter to Albania.

When Ron and I began planning this adventure and listing all the wonderful places we would go, Albania was never even considered. We ended up there as a result of needing to get out of the EU/Schengen and having less than optimal time to exit.

We arrived on October 9 and left 5 months later...an awfully long time to stay somewhere you had not even really heard of 7 months ago.

While unplanned, our time in Albania was wonderful, strange, beautiful, filthy, vibrant, backwards, modern and archaic...all at once.

The younger generation of people are amazing. Friendly, helpful, polite, kind. (I should qualify that since I am 47, I conveniently categorize anyone around my age or less as 'young') The older generation are awful. They take rude to a level that is so rude it makes me laugh. By example, I cannot count how many times I would be in the market, in line to pay for my items, and an older person would jump the entire queue and insist they be helped first. WTF???

Everyone dresses the same no matter the situation or event - Ron and I have dubbed it the “Albanian uniform”. The men wear black track pants, black hoodies and black puffy jackets. The women wear black leggings, Uggs and short fur coats (some real, some faux) or long wool trench coats. It is the epitome of casual chic.

Everyone smokes. Everyone! All the time. Everywhere. They drive like maniacs and make double (and triple) parking an artform. They unapologetically take up space - if someone is in your way, that is a 'you' problem. They spend an exorbitant amount of time in outdoor coffee shops, no matter the weather. They are very trusting - corner convenience stands jam-packed with beer, wine, cigarettes and confectionary are left unattended every night with full confidence their contents will be present and accounted for the next day without any concern.

The food is exceptional. A little too much meat on most menus for this vegetarian, but the quality of produce, and ingredients in general, more than make up for the amount of goat offered at most traditional restaurants. Organic is the standard, not a marked-up section in the grocery store. The 3AM street food is delicious and saved my life more nights than I should admit. If it weren't for the daily gym workouts, I fear the calories 'in' would have seriously exceeded the calories 'out'.

The landscape is breathtaking, and the year-round climate is quite comfortable. Mountains, ocean, olive groves. Lots of sunshine. An entire winter without a single day below 8 degrees.

Over time you get used to the volume of garbage everywhere and very good at stepping over the dog shit.

The nightlife is fantastic.

The language is very very hard to learn. ('Albania' in Albanian is Shqiperi)

Albania - you are unique – truly like no other place I have ever been. I am grateful for the safe (and warm) harbour, the experience and the hospitality you afforded us. I am grateful for the amazing and compassionate vets in Orikum and Tirana who worked so hard to try and keep both Zooey and Tucker with us for as long as possible. I am grateful for Tony who became 'our guy' and went out of his way to help us get our Bimini enclosure project finished, and anything else we needed. I am grateful for the people we met (ex-pat and local), for the food, for the wine, for the sights, the sounds and TBH, the needed distraction while Ron and I finally processed all the change we decided a long time ago to embark upon, but truthfully, had not yet really been prepared to embrace.

And, while it was actually tempting to stay longer, and maybe even permanently (yep, we actually talked about it), it was time to say goodbye. If for no other reasons than Ron's unwillingness to get the mandatory bowl haircut (not flattering!) or my considerable lack of 'junk' in this here 'trunk', which also seems to be a local requirement (there are not enough squats in the world, sadly).

Albania - I mostly love you. Thank you for everything. Being the final earthly resting place for Zooey and Tucker, you will always have a piece of my heart.

Onwards!

May you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity xo

Some highlights of our time in Albania (mostly Tirana) since Christmas:

Two months in a modern city gives you plenty of time to cut off all your hair. My stupid broken finger is still not completely healed - argh!!!

It also gives you time to take care of 'human business' like teeth cleaning (at a fraction of what it costs in Canada).

SO many calories 'in' - each one worth it. The great thing about retirement is you can join a gym and work out every day for 2 hours in the middle of the day. Somehow Ron and I both left Albania fitter/thinner than when we arrived.

Got to visit the touring Salvador Dali exhibit which featured his Devine Comedy works. He happens to be one of my favourite surrealists so his collection being in Tirana was serendipitous. The paintings are terrifying and mesmerizing. I hope to see more of his masterpieces when we get to Spain.

Albanian Night. You dress up. You watch a musical/play. You dance. You eat. You drink. If you are Charity and 11pm is way too early to go home, you follow it up with a karaoke bar :)

Cathedral tour in Tirana. Beautiful churches: Christian Orthodox, Catholic, Muslim and Bektashian. Communism only ended in 1991 so all of the churches are quite new.

Albanian cooking class. Learned how to make tasty traditional dishes including Byrek - which was the very best snack on the way home from the bar at 3AM.

Valentine's dinner out under the twinkly lights.

Our little girl fought like hell. Her compromised immune system from the cancer made it impossible for her to warn off the pancreatitis - which is what took her out. She was the very sweetest, most gentle, kind and crazy dog. Loved everyone. Rest in peace my love. I miss you so much but I am so happy you and Tucker get to play and cuddle together for the rest of time.

Vineyard tour just outside Durres, Albania. Those terraced, south-facing slopes make very happy grapes.

Gladiator amphitheater ruins in the middle of Durres, Albania.

Tirana, Albania is a beautiful city - especially at night.

Admiring Maelstrom from the Otranto shore. This anchorage will be our home for a few days. The next N/NW wind will send us to Santa Maria di Leuca, Italy.

Living the dream…with a hint of winter and a dash of reality

Wed, 25 Dec 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Greetings and a very merry Christmas from Montenegro

It has been a hot minute since I put out a blog post. Every time I went to hit ‘publish’ something would change and render my update inaccurate, incomplete or completely moot. But I think (???) we are at a place now where I can commit something to writing…so here it goes.

We are enjoying Christmas in Montenegro. (Where? Yep, another place I had never really heard of, little lone could have found easily on a map a year ago).

We left Maelstrom at the Orikum marina, rented a car and an Airbnb to enjoy (in no particular order): heat, a king size bed, and a change in scenery.

It has been wonderful:

breathtaking scenery,

an amazing walking food tour of Kotor hosted by a lovely local who shared the rich and long history of this ancient fortress town (thank you Marina),

a private Lipovac wine tasting in Ovtocici (thank you Pavle),

and a super cute little villa with a killer view.

Montenegro is an unexpected delight. It is bursting with history and tradition. Our little a-frame wood cabin here in Dobro Voda rests on top of jagged limestone crags, looks down 217m at the Adriatic Sea and gifts us with the most extraordinary sunsets I have ever seen. There are monasteries, mountains and wild goats. It is rustic, wild and charming - all at the same time.

The food is a mix of Greek, Italian and Turkish. It is delicious. Their traditional squid risotto is so black from the ink you can’t let it come in contact with your front teeth or they will be stained for days. Luckily for me, my years of extensive practice avoiding the same thing from red wine made this no problem at all.

They speak Bosnian, Serbian, Montenegrin and Croatian - basically dialects of the Yugoslavian language from before Yugoslavia was broken into a bunch of pieces. They celebrate both the Catholic and Christian Orthodox Christmases on December 25 and January 7, respectively. They love Rakije, which is a fruit based brandy enjoyed with every meal - a local tradition I felt compelled to adopt…when in Rome. The apricot one is my favourite :)

My only regret is that we are seeing this incredible country in the winter time. While beautiful, a bit limiting for what we can truly explore. I guess it is just a good reason to come back. But for the Christmas chapter of this incredible adventure we are on, it has been magical.

So, what’s next, you might wonder?

A few unexpected events that have happened this last 7 weeks required we re-think some things. As many of you know we had to say goodbye to our best boy Tucker (thank you to everyone who sent us the nicest messages of condolences). Unfortunately, Zooey has also been having some health issues (confirmed diagnosed of canine alimentary lymphoma) so proximity to vet care and a stable environment for her have become our immediate priority. We could just stay on the boat in Orikum for a while longer, but it is a 3-hour drive to the vet in Tirana, I think we have explored every square inch of the place, and it is freakin' chilly (there are not enough socks or mittens in the world).

So, starting December 30 we have booked an Airbnb in the heart of Tirana - minutes from the vet, in a modern, actual city with the creature comforts of Calgary (mostly). We will stay there for all of January and February. We will hopefully get Zooey to better/manageable health. In early March we will get back on the boat and sail Maelstrom west for 3 months towards Tunisia. We will be able to dock/anchor all along the Italian and Spanish coastline stopping at places like Crete, Malta, Ibiza, because we will be inside our Schengen window. It will be much (much) warmer. We will have 3x the time we actually need to get to Tunisia so we will be opportunistic with weather and have lots of time for sightseeing.

It is not exactly what we thought was going to happen, but everyday life throws you curve balls all the time - why would this adventure afford us any different?

In the spirit of the holidays I focus on all the things to be grateful for. I am on the adventure of a lifetime and somehow found a person who is willing to also abandon all things normal and embrace the crazy. We take turns finding the humour and wonder in it all and so far have not found enough good reason to murder one another (although I am not going to say it hasn’t crossed either of our minds. Remember, all man-over-boards should be regarded as suspicious).

I think about my friends and family at home. Many of whom are going through lots of change too - some by their own doing, some change out of their control. But the fact remains the same, irrespective of where you happen to find yourself at this very moment: there is no guarantee of a tomorrow - so live every single day to the fullest. This life and incredible planet we call home are gifts, and I am so grateful that I have the health and the means to see and experience as much as possible. It is not perfect, but for me it really is a dream.

Tonight we will wander down to the near-by restaurant for a Christmas meal with the locals. There will be lots of food, lots of Rakije, lots of smoke (continued downside of this neck of the woods - oh well, nowhere is perfect). We'll come back to the villa for a Christmas call with Daniel and Jacob, and then head to Albania tomorrow to discover if the 'gift' requried to the customs officers to get out of the country is also reqired to return?

I will write again in a few weeks with an update on life, not on Maelstrom, but temporarily from Tirana - including what hopes to be a great big party for New Years eve.

In the meantime, much love and Sretan Božić to you all.

May you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity xo

The little cabin we are staying at in Dobro Voda (means 'good water'). Not too shabby.

On our way to the wine tasting. Fun fact: the major winery Plantaze in Montenegro produces the highest volume of grapes (Vranac) for wine in all of Europe. We elected to go see an estate winery instead.

Traditional Georgian ceramic instead of steel or oak barrels for the fermentation.

Late season wine country in Montenegro. Shares a very similar climate to the northern terroir of the Okanagan.

So happy :) although you can see my broken finger in this picture. My enthusiasm for vigorous cleaning got a little out of hand.

One of the many monestaries.

On our way to visit Kotor.

Original and untouched cathedral in Kotor - circa 809 AD - where they chose to have both Catholic and Christian Orthodox altars so that the people of Kotor could live and pray in harmony. They also legalized LGBTQ marriage a while back. Maybe some lessons in tolerance can be learned from the people here?

The main sqaure inside the walls lof Kotor. The little steeple at the front of the clock tower was the 'shame tower'. If you had done something bad you were tied to this monument, with a sign around your neck telling everyone what you did wrong. The locals would throw vegetables and shame the person into repentance.

That black risotto I was talking about. Being a pescatarian, I stayed away from the sausage, but Ron said it was delicious.

My view from bed with coffee and Bailey's on Christmas morning - not terrible :)

On Tuesday, December 17 I said good bye to my big brother and very best friend Tucker. I miss him very much but I know how much he loved me, his family and his last weeks on the boat. I will see him again one day and tell him all about the adventures I had. In the meantime Tucker, be nice to the other dogs up there and try and avoid the time-outs. Save me a spot on a warm comfy bed.

Love Zooey

Easy Date Boutique...and other things lost in translation

Thu, 07 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Hello friends and continued greetings from Orikum, Albania.

Sadly, we said goodbye to our friends Mark and Hailey who left for Corfu but we were very happy to welcome our new neighbours Adam and Bozena who occupied the slip adjacent to us here at Marina Orikum.

We are taking advantage of our Schengen sentence (we must stay out of the EU for 90 days - 37 days down, 53 days to go) by giving Maelstrom a rest, enjoying the spectacular Albanian weather (calm water, no rain, +20 degree temps for 3 weeks now), working on a bunch of little projects, and touring around.

As temporary Albanian residents we laugh every single day about how much of what we try to communicate, and in turn try to understand, is completely lost in translation.

The first time I remember really laughing at a travel translation oopsie daisy was at our favourite resort in the Mayan Riviera about 15 years ago. El Dorado Maroma is a 5-star luxury resort that greets its guests with a huge foyer, a very grand front desk, welcome champagne, and a marble sign that reads “THIRFTY Car Rental”. It made me laugh because the mistake was literally carved in stone. Having been there as recently as last year, the sign was still unchanged, and I always wanted to ask if they knew it was supposed to be Thrifty or, considering the marble, just couldn’t be bothered to change it?

Anyways, living here in Albania is no different. The translation is just a little bit off, and highly entertaining.

Some pretty funny ones we’ve seen so far:

Chucking and Drinking Bar and Lounge (I respect their honesty)

First Date Clothing (I mean, a girl has to make a good first impression)

Easy Date Boutique (I was sad for the lack of lace in this store, I suppose easy doesn't necessarily mean desparate)

Very Fun Bar (curious if the fun is guaranteed?)

… and my favourite…

Food Restorant (although, it makes me worried about what I might have been eating in the other restaurants we have visited)

The theme of ‘lost in translation’ continues as we attempt to socialize with Adam and Bozena. They speak only Polish. We speak zero Polish. So, our evening get togethers over a glass of wine means each of us taking turns speaking into our phones so that Google Translate can repeat the sentence in the opposite language. The conversations are a bit slow, but hilarious - especially when one of us says something funny (obviously me mostly), the person who understands laughs, and the other two wait patiently for Google to share the joke. Assuming what made the line funny didn’t get lost in translation?

Because, speaking of Google Translate, we have discovered, well, it sucks.

One of the projects we want to get done while at the marina is have an enclosure built to weatherproof our helm station. The Bimini is great as a roof but does nothing to stop wind or rain, and if we are going to make this whole sailing thing work long term, I need to be way less wet, and way less cold while underway during inclement weather.

So, I typed out what we were looking for, trusted Google Translate, and sent dozens of emails looking for the desired service. We were super frustrated that we weren’t getting any responses only to find out that Google’s English >> Albanian interpretation of ‘Bimini enclosure for our boat’ somehow got turned into ‘plant shutdown’??? No wonder no one responded.

We learned that when you are trying to translate something a bit nuanced and you have zero understanding of the target language, you need to reverse-translate to see that it was translated correctly. Who knew? Do you think the Star Trek Universal Translator had similar issues?

Now that I think about it, I may need to double check a few things with Adam and Bozena.

Anyway, problem solved. We learned something new, and dude starts the enclosure project next week - yay!

All part of the adventure.

And while all kinds of things are changing in the world (like US Presidents and the Flames standing in their division), we have a fun update to share as well.

We got accepted to participate in the 2025 ARC + (cruising, not racing) which means we will be leaving this side of the world and headed across the Atlantic at the beginning of November next year.

The rally will begin in the Canary Islands, make a stop at Cape Verde, and then head to Grenada. The prospect of sailing in even better (hotter) weather, without the Schengen complications, closer to friends and family has me beyond excited and in a much better head space to really enjoy the next year of Greece, Turkey, Crete, Italy, Spain, and Gibraltar to the fullest.

Turns out, to be happy, I do need a plan - a fact in any language.

Until the next time, may you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity (waiting patiently for public transit) xo

Shameless plug: Episode 3 on our You Tube channel will drop in a week and will feature the Albanian sights we have experienced so far. Please check it out and know it means the world to us to have so many friends continue to take an interest in our story.

Some pics from the last 2 weeks:

The Ooni Oven was one of the items that we shipped from Calgary. Makes delicious wood burning oven pizza, even on a boat. Have I mentioned how much I love pizza?

Beach day in November...yes please.

Cute little spot to stop for beers while out on the e-bikes.

Keeping some of the Canadian traditions alive. Ron says my knife skills are terrifying and swiftly took over. Not sure what he means????

Hello, this is special correspondent Tucker standing in for Zooey.

Zooey went and ate something really bad at the beach and got quite sick. A vet visit, some medicine, and a bland diet have her on the mend, but I said I would handle this update for her while she recovers.

I love my sister, but she really does need to be a bit more discerning with what she categorizes as “food”.

Boat life is amazing. My people are around way more often than when we lived in the city. Charity’s lap is available pretty much all the time. I spend my day sun tanning and napping and lounging and watching these crazy fish leap from the water. I’ve been to the beach, swam in the ocean, and don’t miss the snow or cold one bit.

I do like it better when the boat is not moving but my short little legs make me the most stable crew member on board.

I am living my best life. As a testament of my gratitude, I secretly enrolled in on-line self-help night classes to help with my attitude (eg. barking and biting). Seems to be working.

Love Tucker (no longer ‘bitey’) xo

Disclaimer: My update has been translated by Google Translate. Being a rescue dog from Arizona, I don’t speak English. I take no responsibility for the accuracy of the translation.

Dead bodies everywhere...

Wed, 23 Oct 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Hello everyone and greetings from Orikum, Albania - a very curious place, with a super bad ass flag.

If you had to look on a map to figure out where Albania is, no judgement, I did too. I never imagined I would be spending a bunch of weeks here…but here we are.

We checked in at Sarande Port with the help of this lovely person we found through the Navily app. The whole check in/check out process is serious business in this neck of the woods, and you must employ a local agent if you want to get it right (thank you Jelja).

We spent one night at the Sarande Marina - less ‘marina’ more ‘jagged and terrifying concrete wharf that also serves as the queue for the tourists boarding the ferry to Corfu’ - good morning strange people staring at me drinking my coffee in my nightie.

We then sailed north to Orikum. The overnight sail from Sarande to Orikum featured rain, 40 knt winds, and lots of swell (ok, seriously, Universe, are you trying to tell me something????). After another wet, bumpy, uncomfortable voyage we enjoyed a meal out and beers with Jose (thank you again, truly), said mirupafshim the next morning, and got excited about staying put for a hot minute.

Orikum, Albania - home until the end of November - our new normal.

Normal - a word that has become as foreign to me as the local bus schedule and Albanian customs for waste disposal.

This country is such a curiosity. It surprises me every day.

It inhabits people who have an extraordinary and unexpected capacity for kindness. You observe it in the patience they have for each other driving their narrow, windy roads. No horn honking, no road rage. Honest to god we saw one dude stop his car to have a chat with his friend on the side of the road for at least 5 minutes. He created a huge line up of cars behind him. No one was fussed. They just waited. Patient. Quiet. Could you imagine that in Alberta? Or anywhere in North America????

They are not homophobic. I was waiting outside of the market with the dogs while Ron picked up some groceries. This particular market was next to a high school, and it was letting out for the day. The number of same-sex teenagers (boys and girls) I saw holding hands, hugging, casually draping arms over each other’s shoulders, was beautiful. There was no stigma. No fear. Just kids, friends, unapologetically and publicly showing affection for each other.

They don’t finish their construction projects, they throw their garbage everywhere, but drive really (really) nice cars. The area is a strange tapestry of squalor and 2024 Mercedes GLC Coupes. The buildings are half-done. The beautiful 5-star hotels are situated next to rubble and rubbish. The large number of Porsches, and 7 series BMWs, and high-end Teslas, and RS Audis that drive on the roads which also serve as feeding (and pooping) paths for the wild goats is alarming.

The interiors of the restaurants are modern, well-appointed, and eat-off-the-floor-clean but the outsides scream landfill and poverty.

It is so very very strange.

The young people are freakin' wonderful. The local teenage kids not only know how to talk with adults but seem to want to spend time with adults. A few Orikum kids have adopted Ron as their fishing buddy and come by every day to see if they might together finally snag one of the grey mullets that allude them.

The landscape reminds me of the Okanagan, if it were next to the sea.

The cuisine is a mixture of Greek and French and Italian.

It is a study in contradictions. For now, it is home. It is our new normal.

In pursuit of happiness and normalcy we make friends with the other cruisers in the marina. We enjoy dinners out, group card games and way too many beverages (so very different from life in YYC, lol). I spend afternoons baking and cooking (and feeding our neighbours because I make too much). We venture into town. We ride our e-bikes. We walk the dogs. I do Pilates. Ron fishes. We do chores. I clean. Ron fixes stuff. Music is playing at all times. We have kitchen dance parties. I love (love) waking up to What’sApp messages from friends (the 6/8-hour time difference is a thing). We sight-see. We watch movies and stay on top of our beloved Flames (also, W.T.F? - top of their division? at least a point in every game? even a shoot out win over Pittsburg? Go Flames Go!!!!)

And every night before bed we close up the boat and begin our mosquito hunting expedition. Ron, fly swatter in hand, does the hunting (necessary because my unbelievably terrible hand-eye coordination seems to extend beyond sports - I miss every single time). I follow behind cleaning up all the dead bodies.

Our new normal.

I miss my friends, and my boys, and my girlfriends that are actually family. I miss pretty manicured fingernails and wearing outfits. I miss the comforts of the predictable and what I have been used to my whole life.

That said, I don’t miss the cold (snow in Calgary already? Seriously?) I don’t miss secular employment. I don’t miss setting an alarm to wake up in the morning.

I oscillate between longing for what I had before and loving what I have now.

It doesn’t feel normal yet, and maybe it never will. But it is not boring, and it is amazing to be this far out of one’s comfort zone, in a position to experience what life looks like beyond ‘normal’.

So, we press on. Unsure where this all leads. Open to the possibilities.

Maybe there is more to life than ‘normal’?

Until the next time, may you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity xo

Donations to Triton: not suggesting this happened, but if Ron were to be so drunk that he fell off the dock into the sea (fully clothed with glasses, phone/wallet in pocket, etc) but got rescued by his amused wife, would that count as a donation? Maybe a temporary one? I think the count is still net 3.

Some pics from the last 2 weeks:

What going for a 'car ride' looks like now.

View from our slip at the Orikum Marina...reminds me of the Okanagan.

Lovely wine tasting and meal out at Kantina & Ferma Dukat with our new friends Mark and Hailey. Yes, that is a terrifying taxadermied creature next to me - we became friends over the course of the evening.

Vlore, Albania

One of the many fresh fruit and vegetable markets. Vlore, Albania.

Ron sharing his fishing knowledge with the local teens.

An afternoon trek to Tragjas. About 4 km from Orikum. Narrow lanes lined by olive and pomegranate trees. This very cute little girl followed us the entire way there. The conversation over a beer (local brand Elbar - delicious) was very much "no Charity, you cannot take her on the boat".

Hello - it’s me again - your favourite sailing dog Zooey

The good news: this new place Albania has gelato.

The bad news: apparently until I stop eating the delicious side walk raisins (a.k.a. goat poops) I have zero chance of getting any gelato. Tucker says I am ruining it for both of us.

It is a tough choice.

Love Zooey and Tucker

I surrender

Wed, 09 Oct 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Pershendetje and greetings from Sarande Port, Albania

First, and most importantly, Go Flames Go!!!! Regular season starts tomorrow. Woot woot! We’ll be cheering for our favourite team from afar - thank goodness for Starlink.

Two weeks ago I shared that we were abandoning our plan to sail casually along the coast to Tunisia and instead we were embarking on a 10 day straight-sail passage to Albania, joined by Marco (who turned out to be Jose) - the crew we found to help. Two weeks ago I was still using the word ‘plan’.

Good news, no need for warnings or disclaimers for this post.

Does that mean it was smooth sailing the whole way? Absolutely not - day 2/3 of this trip was worse than the first terrible day 2 - anyone else noticing a pattern? But just like the first time, we survived - with varied degrees of grace and composure.

Maelstrom handled it like a rock star.

Ron handled it like a champ and went into full ‘we’ve got this’ mode.

Me, not so much. I had a full and complete meltdown. Sitting legs crossed on the floor of the galley, in tears (I never cry) with both dogs on my lap, a crumpled mess, regretting EVERYTHING. The hours of relentless, violent pounding headfirst into the wind and wave during another huge and unexpected thunderstorm storm was too much, too soon.

Again, this was not in the forecast. This was not supposed to happen. This was not the plan. As far as plans go, we weren’t even supposed to be doing any multi-day straight sailing passages until the Atlantic crossing in November 2025.

While we learned lots from the first terrible day 2, the lesson I had not yet learned was that my 47 years of believing I can control anything is a complete and utter fantasy.

I cannot control people’s feelings.

I cannot control people’s actions.

And I most definitely cannot control what the Universe/Mother Nature has in store.

Does that mean I don’t still want specific things to happen, for people to feel a certain way, for people to do specific things, for Mother Nature to afford us favourable conditions? Nope. I still want all that (a girl can only transform so much in such a short period of time).

But the white flag is up now. I surrender.

No more ‘plans’. No more ‘should’. Rather, take what life brings and make the best possible choices given the data and circumstances. It’s not about lowering expectations. It’s about realizing expectations don’t really ever affect the outcome.

Come what may.

Ok, enough psycho mumbo jumbo - onto the good stuff.

We left Portosole on Tuesday last week. Sailed ~810 nm (including the extra 50 nm for our unplanned stop over in Porto Vecchio) using a 3-hour on/6-hour off watch schedule to get through the 24-hour clock at sea - including the dreaded dog shift where you can’t really sleep before or after.

Want to go to really strange places in your brain? Give 3 hours in absolute darkness, alone, surrounded by miles and miles of ocean a try. I mean, those unwelcome sharks can’t somehow climb on board when I can’t see them, right???? To manage I sing along to musical soundtracks - La La Land, Moana (when I need to muster some extra courage), Hamilton and Encanto being on most frequent rotation. If “We don’t talk about Bruno” is now in your head, sorry - not sorry.

We saw beautiful sunrises. Beautiful sunsets. Dolphins. Pilot whales. Flying fish (my favourite). So many stars and meteors. An actual active volcano with spewing lava and everything. Crazy!!!

Ron caught a black fin tuna while underway. The resulting sushi/sashimi was divine.

Sirens Scylla and Charybdis - sailor’s mythical explanation for the deadly whirlpools and cross-curent in the Messina channel - allowed us through the passage between Sicily and Italy without incident. That’s because we showed up on time - safe passage window starts at 9 am sharp! Come on seamen of yore - the ladies just needed you to follow their schedule - they’ve got shit to do.

We went through the full gamut of wind conditions. We got to sail our big, beautiful, royal blue Code Zero. Shout out to Precision Sails https://www.precisionsailloft.com/ and to Voilerie UNIVERSAILS https://lesvoilesdesaint-mandrier.fr/

We arrived, 1 day early - albeit after yet another unforecasted storm. Safe. Sound. A little tired. Desperate for some exercise (Cody Rigsby, I miss you) and a regular sleep schedule. But also a little smarter, a little more experienced, and a little more prepared for the next time (huge shout out to Jose for your expertise and support).

We are out of the EU (Schengen) just in time, and need to stay that way for 90 days.

With the pressure of an externally imposed time schedule no longer part of the narrative, we are going to hunker down for the next while in Orikum and explore all the wonders of Albania. No idea what they are, but we are soon to find out. Then we might venture north to Montenegro, then maybe Croatia? Notice - no mention of a plan :)

We’ll see what happens.

So, until the next time, may you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity xo

Some pics from the last 2 weeks:

A quick paddleboard around all the boats in the Portosole marina. My kids gave this to me for Mother's Day. Thank you Daniel and Jacob xo

We got gussied up for one more Sanremo dinner. 2 delicious pizzas, 1 liter of red wine, 2 lemocellos and 1 panna cotta = 36 euros. Why exactly are we leaving????

A top up with fuel at the Portosole diesel dock before beginning the passage to Albania.

The 'view' during a nightwatch.

Very beautiful sunrises and sunsets.

Chilly morning after our unplanned stop at Porto Vecchio.

Zooey and Tucker needed a blanket too.

He is so happy! His first fish caught while underway. A black fin tuna.

Still embracing this no make up thing.

Terrible photo, but that is the active Stromboli volcano - we sailed right past it. I really need to get my Nikon out if I am going to get any decent shots at night. Apologies to my friends who have received the shitty night time pics - I will do better.

Messina, IT - just passing through. Thank you Scylla and Charybdis for granting us safe passage.

Going around the bottom of 'the boot'.

Some days sailing is hard :)

The gorgeous royal blue code zero got some time to shine.

Hello again everyone, it’s your favourite sailing dog Zooey

Despite the tremendous outpouring of support (thank you Leigh and Nadia) I am sad to report we still have had no gelato.

And also, can I just ask - what the AF is going on?

First they take us from our house where we had a yard, our own run. We came and went as we pleased.

Then they moved us to this concrete land where we had to be on leads for scheduled walks. No more yard. (Although concrete land did provide lots of tasty street treats for me to eat when no one was looking - especially on Saturday mornings).

Now, we are on this weird white thing that moves all the damn time. And I’m sorry, I may be a dog, but that tiny green plastic postage stamp you expect us to do our business on is not grass.

I am not sure what crime we committed, and I most certainly don’t remember a fair trial. If this is not just cause for some delicious gelato, I don’t know what is?

Your support is appreciated.

Zooey and Tucker

When life hands you lemons (a.k.a gale-force winds)...

Thu, 26 Sep 2024 00:00:00 +0000

...you make lemonade (a.k.a. change your plans).

Buongiorno and greetings from Portosole marina in Sanremo, Italy.

So much has happened in the last two weeks, I am not even quite sure where to start - so this blog post is a little longer than usual.

We left the marina at St. Mandrier Sur Mer on Monday September 16. We were both very happy to get on our way - although there are some pretty great things about living at a marina in the south of France: daily baguettes, electricity and water usage with reckless abandon, and conveniently timed, extra-long Saturday morning walks with the dogs past the men's weekly rugby practice (always skins and shirts)... no Ron, you stay here, I can take them. I really am a very considerate wife :)

Anyway, we had a very good first day. Calm waters. Light winds. Zero issue finding our planned anchorage at Port-Cros or picking up our mooring ball. The sailing conditions were near perfect, the evening rewarded us with a huge full moon. We had very few neighbours. It was everything we had been dreaming about.

Then Tuesday happened.

Day 2 was a bad day. Warning, if you are one of our friends or family members who has not been super cool with this plan from the outset, you might want to skip this part.

The day started much like the day before - light winds, fair seas. We made it all the way to St. Tropez before the winds started to pick up and we observed some storm clouds in the distance (wait...none of this was predicted???). We did exactly what you are supposed to do - we had only been flying our main sail but at 16 kts** of sustained wind we did the safe thing and put in 2 reefs (made the surface of the sail smaller). Ron went back down to finish rigging his fishing rods, I stayed up top - we were feeling great. Then everything changed. Winds started to pick up - fast. We went from 16 kts to more than 28 kts gusting in a matter of minutes. The skies opened up and we were in the middle of what was going to be the first of three thunderstorms that day. We dropped the main sail and switched to motoring. It was windy, I was completely soaked, it was uncomfortable...but we were still fine.

Then came the swell, and we were NOT fine.

Maelstrom is a blue water boat. She is built to handle big water. And while I know that - it is one thing to know it, and entirely another thing to believe it or live through it. Worst yet, our planned destination for that day had us straight into the wind and into the swell - every 4 seconds crashing nose first with a sensation of violence and discomfort that you must experience to really appreciate. It was still pouring with rain. The lightning and thunder was deafening (along with the constant high winds alarm that we could not figure out how to turn off). There had not yet been a safe minute for me to go below and put on dry/warm clothes and due to the conditions, our pace had slowed to a speed that was not going to get us to where we needed to be ahead of nightfall. We had to turn around. It was no longer safe.

We began calling around to see which marina might have room for us. But, with the Cannes boat show in full swing, all the marinas were full. One of the more sympathetic harbour masters told us we could anchor outside of the marina. Elated, we set our course, tacked 180 degrees, and headed to safe harbour.

Cold, wet, tired, we arrived - and the shelter was so welcome. The winds and swell off-shore were still bonkers but the harbour afforded us calm seas, almost no wind, and no more rain. Our moods shifted quickly. Me - from: "what the actual fuck was I thinking? I want to go home" to: "ok, drop anchor, change clothes, have a very big glass of wine - we've got this". See, in the world of sailing you have 3 (more or less) options to park your boat: dock, pick up a mooring ball or anchor. And it just so happens we are really good at anchoring.

But the universe decided that both Ron and I needed to be completely put in our place that day - erasing ANY amount of over-confidence. With nightfall setting in we found out the anchor bridle installed by the boat builder was 2x too long (not something that was discoverered during the delivery handover process), and the clip that is meant to secure the bridle to the anchor chain does not have a safety clip which meant it kept falling off. Our 5 minute anchor task turned into 2 hours - still cold, still wet and in the dark. We had very little confidence in our anchor hold and finished the awful day setting 2 anchor alarms, sleeping in our clothes and setting hourly wake up alarms to visually check that we were not moving.

The good news - we spent the next day in that harbour, encouraged that our anchor did hold all night and ready to do a full 'lessons learned'.

So, what did we learn that day?

Even the most sophisticated weather forecasters/software don't always get it right. The marine gale-force wind warning was issued at 3PM - 1 full hour after we had already been in the thick of it. We learned the next day that coast guard was actually called out for a man overboard instance. We have now assembled a wet/terrible weather drybag with wet weather gear, towels, extra tethers and life jackets that comes up to the helm station with us every day we are underway - no matter what the weather is forecasted to be. We also include a detailed plan B and plan C in our daily route. We increase the frequency of our weather reviews/debriefs. And, most importantly, when Charity says to Ron - I don't care what the app says, we are going to get wet - we actually listen to Charity...this has happened before :)

Silver lining:

I write this blog post, safe and sound, from the very hoity toity Portosole marina (where we are getting our bridle and a few other warranty issues fixed) and where we get to enjoy the beautiful sights, food and people of Sanremo.

The journey between the St. Tropez anchorage and here has been really wonderful.

Ron found his people at the nude beach in Eze.

I have invented a nautical vocabulary that I am pretty sure will become the new standard:

Spicy sea = high winds or big swell - described as mild, medium or caliente

Bogies = all objects (moving and non-moving) detected by our radar or AIS

Eat a bag of dicks = an expression of irritation or frustration resurrected from its first appearance driving from Castlegar to Osoyoos on a donut with my BFF Randi

And the most important news, we have changed our plans.

With the unplanned delays we can no longer take our time and proceed with our lackadaisical coastal cruising itinerary to Tunisia - Ron has to be out of the EU by October 3. And since it is neither smart nor safe to attempt 10 days on our own, we have hired crew and we will instead sail straight to Albania - no stopping. Me, Ron, Zooey, Tucker and now Marco (very experienced sailor) will head out on Tuesday.

I did say I had hoped to have lots to share in time for my next blog post. I am glad (????) to have been right.

Thank you so much for continuing to take an interest in our adventure. If you are looking for a very non-boring retirement plan, I think I have found the answer.

Until the next time, may you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity xo

** 1 kt of wind = ~2 km/h so 16 kts of wind is ~32 km/h

Current count of donations to Triton = net 3: 1 dog lead, 1 clothes pin, 1 hat and 1 rasher minus 1 boat hook that we rescued

Some pics of the last 2 weeks:

I shot this pic with my iPhone and did nothing to it. I have yet to pull my fancy Nikon DSLR out of its case. Cannes, FR.

Port Royal at Cannes and our view at the anchorage.

Maelstrom looks very pretty from the water.

Caught that morning salmon, tuna and calamari.
"You don't have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces - just good food from fresh ingredients." Julia Child

The pizza (my most favourite food) in Sanremo is unbelievable...

...and the gelato...I could live here forever.

What 'work' looks like now...route and weather planning - with red wine of course.

Early morning shift at the helm. Shorts and T-shirt weather for normal humans - mittens and all the layers for me.

The Eze cliff and our view at the anchorage of Baie de Saint Laurent, FR.

Wandering around Sanremo earning our pizza and gelato kcal by walking up and down all the very steep stairs. The whole village is a maze of alleys. I have not worn makeup (or a bra if I am being honest) in over a month and I don't miss it at all :)

Port-Cros, FR.

Sanremo, IT.

Plage at Sanremo.

Sanremo, IT.

I will be marrying my next husband for the money :) Our neighbour at the Portosole marina.

Hello from Zooey!

Boating life is not terrible. My brother sleeps all the time, which is no different than life in YYC. As long as our peeps are around, we are pretty happy.

Although we do have one complaint: even though we are being very good, we don't ever seem to get any gelato. Please express your concerns for these inhumane hardships via our socials.

Why is Ron wearing clothes?...and other FAQs

Wed, 11 Sep 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Greetings...(again/still) from St. Mandrier Sur Mer

I am happy to report that our departure is imminent, and we plan to set sail on Sunday.

SV Maelstrom, and her over-the-moon crew, will be following the coastline from France to Tunisia. I put together a little 12 night journey map (see below) - mostly day sails and overnights at anchorages except for the final leg between Marina Del Sole, Cagliari and our Tunisian destination of Siri Bou Said which will require a 27-hour straight sail. It will be our first overnighter and good practice for the eventual trans-Atlantic crossing. Predict Wind (our sail planning tool) says we have a very clam weather window and we have allowed a few days of slush to dive, snorkel, paddle board and see the sights. So, by the time I write next, I should have lots to share.

For this post, I thought I would answer some of your most popular questions.

1 - Do you know how to sail?

Yes.

2 - How do you get food and water?

SV Maesltrom is pretty decked out. We are equipped with 7 solar panels (thank you Chris at Dedicated Marine), a water maker (which desalinates water from the ocean), a generator, washer/dryer, full size fridge, lots of storage space. We are fully stocked with all the essentials (so much wine). We plan to do a lot of fishing while underway, and we can pick up fresh groceries when we overnight at the anchorages.

3 - Don't you have to return to Canada every 6 months?

No. We are Canadian citizens whether we ever step foot on Canadian soil again. As our continued income (capital gains, CPP, OAS, etc.) will continue to be earned in Canada, we will continue to pay Canadian taxes and will still benefit from Alberta health care. We don't have to come back; we just have to file our income taxes every year.

4 - Are you afraid?

...of sharks? No, they are not allowed on the boat.

...of pirates? No, also not allowed on the boat.

of capsizing? Not afraid, per se, but we have a very healthy amount of respect for the ocean and mother nature. We will be very picky about weather windows - if the weather is bad, we don't go. We are not in any sort of hurry and have no intention of pushing Maelstrom past her limits. We are both very risk adverse and meticulous when it comes to pre-sail checklists. We have Starlink, AIS, radar, and VHF radio to keep on top of wind, waves, current and the location of other boats. We have, and will actually use, life jackets (us and the dogs), we will tether when the sea is spicy (again us, and the dogs), and we have a motorized dinghy, life raft, flares, and a very well-equipped industrial first aid kit. For the most part we will never be more than a few miles from land. Might something go wrong? Yep. Are we prepared and set up to mitigate that risk...as much as we can be.

...of murdering each other? Let's just say if either Ron or I were to suddenly go missing, the authorities should absolutely consider it suspicious.

5 - and the most important, and frequently asked question: Why is Ron wearing clothes????

Many of you are aware that Ron is a bit of a nudist and has been very excited to not have to wear clothes as part of this new life (how did I get to be so lucky?). But since we have been at a marina, jam packed with many boats and people, sadly Ron must wait a bit longer to...hang free. Don't worry, this blog, and all our social presence will forever be PG at worst.

Got other questions? Don't hesitate to ask via our socials.

Lastly, I want to say a few words about France, the people, culture, and unbelievable kindness we have been shown while living at Port Pin Rolland.

France is wonderful.

People think the French are rude - they are not. While it is true that they are transactional, they are not afraid to take up space, and as a country have missed the memo that smoking is bad for you, they are friendly (every person you pass says Bonjour), they go out of their way to do anything they can to help, their work ethic and standards are top notch.

In particular, thank you to Bruno, Etienne, Anthony, Dorian, Yann, Yannick and the rest of the DYC and PPR crew for all your hard work and support. Thank you also to the amazing vets Anna and Anthony for helping us ensure Zooey and Tucker can travel safely with us to all our destinations.

France, vous etes merveilleux. I 100% know that we will be back.

Until the next time, may you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity xo

Current count of donations to Triton = 2: dog lead and clothes pin (same reason as the last post)

Also, debut YouTube video will drop on Saturday...check it out (see website main page for link)

12 night journey starts Sunday

tanned, relaxed, happy

proof that bitey has changed :)

when in France...Ratatouille

take in pizza (my most favourite food)...where they serve you Rose while you wait for your pie

au revoir St. Mandrier Sur Mer...a bientot

All you need is love...and for France to not be on vacation all of August

Thu, 29 Aug 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Greetings from the marina at St. Mandrier Sur Mer, France

I had written my debut post ahead of my actual leaving Calgary. In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined the love that was about to greet me, the overwhelming joy, and sadness that followed.

Between the most wonderful retirement party ever, a weekend full of country music with some of my favourite people on the planet, my last night in Calgary spent with my girls (including us all getting matching tattoos), a sendoff day completely supported by the two best sons a mom could ever ask for, and countless goodbye messages and thoughtful gifts...well let's just say, there were tears. And all I can say is thank you. I am a very lucky girl to have so many incredible friends.

But what was on the other side of that emotional roller coaster was finally getting to see my person, who had been waiting (im)patiently for 49 days for me to join him. And seeing his face at the Barcelona airport after so many days apart made it all ok.

And so, the adventure begins...sort of.

The whole point of Ron leaving before me was for him to complete, or at least significantly progress, all the boat set up projects. The plan was I would then arrive, and we would get sailing. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. As many of you know, our shipping container was one month delayed arriving in France and all of the stuff needed to complete the set-up projects was in that shipping container. So, Ron (joined by his great friend Pete for a week) mostly got to hang out in the south of France and play tourist. I know, poor Ron :)

Anyways, between the delay, and the entire country of France being on vacation for the month of August, we are likely not leaving the marina until late September.

So, no big sailing stories or pictures to share, yet. But soon!

In the meantime, we get up each morning. Take the dogs for a walk to the little outdoor market. Buy our baguette and whatever else we need for food and wine (OMG, the food here - fruit, vegetables, fish - everything is so fresh, even the colours are brighter, and the flavours are I think what food is actually supposed to taste like). We come back to the boat, tackle items on the 'to-do' list, and then spend the evenings drinking French wine (for 3 EU a bottle), strolling through the town, going to the beach and pinching ourselves because we still can't believe we are actually doing this.

Speaking of the dogs, they are doing great. Now Zooey did decide to jump off the boat on the first night (inspired immediate purchase of netting for the sugar scoops and a gangway) but they are settling in. In fact, Tucker (a.k.a. 'bitey') must have gone through some sort of portal when we flew over because he is now the friendliest dog ever...doesn't even bark when trades dudes come onto the boat. ????

I will post again in two weeks. By then we are hopefully either setting sail, or really close.

Also, Ron will be posting our debut YouTube video at that same time. It will include the naming ceremony and a tour of Maelstrom - so please check it out.

Until the next time, may you have fair winds and following seas.

Charity

Current count of donations to Triton (IYKYK) =1: dog lead because Charity is both very clumsy and much shorter than she thinks she is.