We could smell it for miles and miles before we could see it…the earthiness, the intense green, the SOIL.  We filled our lungs with it again and again, breathing deep.  “SMELL THAT?  DO YOU SMELL IT?!?”, we asked each other over and over, grinning and sniffing.  The sharp tang of the ocean had been replaced by the most delicious, wonderful aroma of abundantly fertile land, of wild growing things, of life, of vibrancy, of goodness.  We had sailed all night, 14 hours in calm, lovely seas, with light, consistent wind and a nearly full moon, achieving more than 8 knots at times, to our delight.  (8 knots is a little over 8 miles per hour, so just let that sink in for a minute.  That’s how fast a sailboat goes).  It was 5 am, and suddenly, the magnificent green hills of the Dominican Republic appeared in the distance, and we yelled to the kids, who had just woken up, to come up to the deck and see.  Hud and Viv ran to the bow to get a better look.  All four of us were absolutely giddy with the thrill of it all, oohing and ahhing and smiling like idiots. Our bleary-eyed exhaustion from being up all night instantaneously melted away, and we excitedly agreed that we wouldn’t rest when we got there, we’d get through customs, eat some breakfast, and explore all day.  “I’M SO PSYCHED TO CHECK OUT LUPERON!” I screamed like a 14 year old girl headed out to her first concert.   It was the complete euphoria that traveling awards us- there’s no feeling on earth like it. Our passion for exploration is the literal and figurative wind in our sails. Curiosity may have killed the cat but it’s fueling us like a Red Bull/Espresso/Pop Rocks smoothie and we just keep lusting after more sights, more ports, more adventures, more food, more stories, more people, more, more, more...      

We’ve been on the boat seven months, and traveling for ten.  It seems like an eternity and it seems like no time at all. There’s so much to process, sometimes it’s hard for me to express how I feel about all of this constant change and newness. But the part of this of which we are most certain is the amazing good this experience is doing for our children. Trav and I have seen them blossom, explode, gain confidence and skills at amazing rates. They take on the world in a different way now, a way that staying home could never have provided them.  Shy Vivian who used to linger on the lonely “buddy bench” in kindergarten now runs up to kids she’s never met, in every country, and drums up a game of Red Light Green Light or Family (it’s like House, and everyone vies to play the mom).  Hudson recently brought his ukelele to a restaurant and spontaneously performed a 3 song set.  Both kids are so much more independent, more capable, ask more questions, consider things in a different light.  It’s more than just learning how to sail, it’s that they’re really learning how to think.  

Whether it’s troubleshooting the dinghy motor when it won’t start, or figuring out strange measurements in a recipe, or experimenting with Spanish-speaking, Hud and Viv aren’t afraid to plunge in and TRY.  I think a lot of this has to do with seeing Trav and I learning, and often failing, right along with them.  As I’ve struggled to become a better sailor, the kids have witnessed every knot I’ve mangled, every time I’ve been terrified at the helm, every time I’ve cursed or shed a frustrated tear.  They’ve seen Trav drenched in sweat, addressing an oil leak in the motor,  figuring it out as he goes.  They’ve seen us at our best (high-fiving after an all night sail) and at our worst (screaming at each other as we flail with the anchor on a windy day), and for all the goodness, badness, and ugliness we've shared as a family thus far, it’s all been honest, real, and fraught with love.  Hud and Viv know, in a first hand way, that learning is hard, and that to get where you want to go, it takes time, sweat, and patience.  If it sounds hard, IT IS, but it’s beyond worth it. And if you’ve ever thought about pulling your kids out of school and traveling for a while as a family, my advice to you is, don’t think twice, DO IT.  If you need one more reason to persuade you, consider this: neither Hud nor Viv has been sick ONCE since leaving Colorado, except for a little seasickness, which doesn’t count.  (I know that you Telluride moms, who are too well-versed in winters full of viruses, will find this aspect of the sailing life particularly appealing).

So, I asked the kids to tell me something for the blog, and here’s what they came up with.  (They talked, I typed).  Here is what they're thinking and feeling about all of this, in their words:      

HUDSON

The freshness of the breeze swiping across our faces…I was in my Mom’s sweatshirt and we were almost there.  We were pulling in (to Luperon) and I thought it almost looked like Colorado with the mountains. 

Sailing is a peaceful thing, but sometimes it can be very annoying, especially when I start puking off the stern.  But one way or another, sailing does it for me.  Sailing is calm, peaceful, exciting at times, and fun.  Living on a sailboat is very different than living in a normal house, like in Colorado.  It’s definitely smaller, and it moves.  A LOT.  But that’s the beauty of it. 

I have learned many new things on this trip.  I have learned new knots, and almost every day for homeschooling we take a recording of the weather.  I’ve learned to play the ukulele, I’ve learned to wakeboard, and now I’m in a stage of having to learn Spanish, which is fun.  I’m starting to think that I am learning more every day here than I was back in Colorado.

I miss a lot of things about Telluride, like for example, my friends, skiing, and Telluride’s climate.  When I get back to Telluride, I’m really looking forward to skiing.

VIVIAN

 I love living on the boat.  It’s so fun, and I love laying down not really doing anything and feeling the boat rock.  Though I love the boat, sometimes I’m sad not to be seeing my friends and my house.  I miss those things and people.  But sometimes it’s so much fun so I don’t miss home and I forget about it and I don’t want to go back to Telluride.  The boat life is actually pretty fun.  There are a lot of things that make it fun and I’ll tell you some of them:  I love the hotness and swimming, snorkeling, playing on the beach, knee boarding, boogie boarding, and paddle boarding. 

Not only do I like adventures and stuff, but I also like riding in the dinghy with the wind blowing on my face.  When the wind pushes up against my face, it feels smooth, soft, and nice.  I sometimes think to myself that if I didn’t go, I wouldn’t have been having all this fun.

We’ve met a lot of friends, and some, if we’re lucky, have kids.  Like the Mills girls, and the Potters, and a lot of other people that I didn’t mention.