"Shit just got real"

I seem to be having a serious case of deja vu... Repeatedly.  For months now, time and time again I have stopped in my tracks, frozen.  For that moment, I have stood there in sheer terror quietly thinking to myself - "Shit just got real".

I always thought that when the time finally came for us to make our move to the Caribbean, it would be so easy.  Because I have such malice for Connecticut, I thought that when the time came there would literally be smoke rolling off my tires and this state that I have detested for ten years would be nothing more than a fading landscape in my rear-view mirror.  Wow, was I ever wrong.  No surprise there really, I tend to be very talented at being wrong.

The truth of the matter is that making the decision to pursue our dreams was and is terrifying.  We are leaving a known with financial security to venture into something entirely new with an uncertain outcome.  We are leaving careers that we have built and maintained to try something new that we might not be successful at.  Maybe I just don't have the balls, but for me it was far harder than I ever imagined.  I have to keep reminding myself that we are also leaving a place that was literally killing us.  We are leaving a place where although we had good careers and income, we lacked anything vaguely resembling a life.  I have to keep remembering we are getting the chance of a lifetime to follow our dreams and create a new life.

After weighing all the pros and cons, eventually a hard decision has to be made which can not be reversed.  It's a lot like jumping into the deep end of a cold pool.  You want to swim, you know you can swim, but that water is cold.  You just left the diving board and there is literally no turning back.  That's where we are right now - in limbo.  We are far from the diving board, hanging in mid-air.  We have been looking forward to the swim ahead for a long time, but we are terrified of hitting that cold water for the first time.  The unknown is unnerving.  "Shit just got real".

When I met with my boss, whom I have known and highly respected for ten years now, and explained what we intended to with a resignation, "Shit just got real".  When we rented a UHaul trailer and pulled a load of "stuff" to our summer house, "Shit just got real".  The day we officially closed on, and became owners of a 50 foot yacht, "Shit just got real".  Our house was listed on the market, and a few showings later we were signing offers and contracts, "Shit just got real".

And now, as I sit here writing this, I'm surrounded by boxes marked "Ship to boat", "Summer house", etc.  We have spent our weekend sorting through all our life possessions, and preparing for an estate sale of the remaining contents of our house, furniture, etc.  "Shit just got real".  This is really happening.  We are hanging in the air off of the diving board, with an inevitable big splash coming our way.  Thank goodness the water in the Caribbean is warm.

Step 7: Throw out all the steps - It happened

Taken in April, contemplating how I would eventually make my escape

I have said many times on this blog, the difference between a dream and reality is "simply" putting a plan in place and working towards it.  I have also said many times here, that while I had a plan, it was missing a lot of pieces.  My whole thought since I stood on the bow of a boat in the Caribbean and said "I'm going to do this", was to attack the pieces of the plan that I could do here and now.  I figured that if I worked on all the things within reach now, that eventually somehow the other missing pieces would eventually come to me.

It happened.

No seriously - It happened.  A seemingly single event, set off a chain reaction that could not, and would not be stopped.  I had optimistically pictured my plans coming to fruition (somehow) in a five to ten year time frame.  Forget that.  This is happening now.

Taxes.  That's what it was.  Taxes.  In 2014, I got literally clobbered with taxes.  That simple fact started a thought process and a conversation with a friend who is a charter boat captain.  That conversation grew during a trip to our beloved St. John, where our friend came to meet us for dinner.  That dinner conversation grew into bigger plans.  Those bigger plans turned into a random phone call with yet another captain.  That random phone call turned into that captain reading our story on this blog.  The reading of our story here turned into a flurry of phone meetings and another trip down to the islands.  That trip down to the islands turned into an amazing opportunity, with some great people betting on a couple young and hungry dreamers.  Those great people betting on a couple hungry dreamers, turned into a complete plan - my plan with all the missing pieces finally filled in.

That amazing chain reaction of events couldn't be stopped.  It wouldn't be stopped.

Over the past years I have struggled with my state of existence.  I'm not "living" here, I simply exist.  I get to live only during short periods of vacation and weekends that I can escape Connecticut.  Existing here is nothing more than being in a rat race of continuous bumper to bumper traffic, inching ahead - there's simply not enough time for anything else.  Sure, I have a great job and that certainly has allowed for a lot of things, but I'm not living.  I'm not experiencing life.

At the same time, 2014 has taken so many loved ones away, far before their time.  I watched a great friend take his last breath.  I'm not sure I'll ever be the same after that.  I came to the hard realization that life is short, and I'm not living.  It happened - all the pieces of a real plan to start anew were presented before me, and I'm not letting it pass.

It happened - We're making our great island escape aboard a 50 foot yacht.

Island Characters: Peter Hoschl

"Angel's Rest" Bar, Coral Bay St. John

As time goes on, I plan on introducing some of the "characters" I've met during my island travels.  What is a character?  A character to me is someone who stands out among others.  A character is someone who stands out not because they dress funny or because they seek childish attention in shock value like present day "celebrities", but rather because they have an interesting story to share.  There is something about them that draws others to them.

Peter Hoschl, owner/creator, "Angel's Rest"

Peter Hoschl is the owner and creator of "Angel's Rest" bar.  If ever there was a horse of a different color - this bar is it.  Anyone who has ever spent time on a pontoon boat will appreciate this.  Peter is a self described hippy, with a background in construction.  He rescued this 40 foot - yes I said 40 foot - pontoon boat and did a frame-up build of Angel's Rest himself.  On top of the massive pontoon frame, Peter constructed a typical island bar, complete with glass table and chairs, entrances to port and starboard, day beds for lounging forward, and a ladder leading to an upstairs "porch" complete with loungers aft.  Under the glass table and chairs is a circular cutout in the floor, allowing for easy viewing of graceful sea turtles swimming below.  I'm not even sure what to call the bathroom aboard Angel's Rest.  On land in a house, it would be called a bathroom.  On a boat, it's called a head.  I'll leave you to decide whether Angel's rest is a floating house/bar, or a boat.

Cutout under the table

Tim swimming from S/V Magewind to
Angel's Rest for cocktails

Angel's Rest resides on a mooring in Coral Bay on the east end of the island of St. John in the USVI.  St. John has only two towns - Cruz Bay to the west, Coral Bay to the east.  Each day Peter fires up the two Evinrude outboard engines fitted to Angel's Rest, and leisurely motors to Hansen Bay in the far east tip of St. John where he sets anchor and opens up bar for anyone that wants to swim or dinghy to him.  Pricing?  That's easy.  Every drink is five dollars no matter what you order.  Drinks come served with entertaining jokes and stories as tall as the hills that make up the surrounding island.  Listening to Peter describe how he "checked out", and how Angel's Rest got its name is in and of itself worth at least a few rum cocktails.  I will warn you though - Peter pours with a heavy hand...  The swim back to shore or back to your yacht can be tricky.

Sharon saying good-bye for another year

Bar is closing - everybody off!

When the day is growing old and the sun flirts with the horizon, Peter will promptly exclaim with a grin - "Bar is closing.  Everybody off my boat".  Like a school of fish, patrons file off the side into the cool Caribbean water and swim off in their respective directions.  With anchor pulled up, and the sun now sinking into the sea, Peter motors off into the distance like a cool Caribbean cowboy.  Time to restock, a new day will soon come.

Usually I go home after the bar - here the bar goes home after me

Slowly adding content...

Grilling with a view in Jost Van Dyke

So as I slowly add content to this first attempt blog....  One question I often get is - "What is it like during a sailing charter?"  Often, people also view us as "being stuck" aboard a boat with nothing to do.  Somehow, it is assumed that we are prisoners of the boat, with nothing but cool ocean around us.  Um...  Not so much.  Chartering a boat for a week is something I can hardly describe in words.  It's a little easier with pictures.

Enjoying our "own" beach aboard S/V Magewind in Virgin Gorda

Instead of those crowded beaches, how about a pristine beach all to yourself with no one else in sight?  You got it.  How about gourmet meals cooked to your preference?  You got it.  How about telling the captain "You know what, I'd like to stay here a while longer."  

Sure, why not?  Beach bars without the crazy hotel crowd?  You got it.  Another cocktail served to you while you swim in crystal blue water, or lazily float around the yacht?  Absolutely.

Capt. Steven Ulrich serving Bloody Mary's and Coffee to us while we  enjoy the water

Oh - you want to explore towns, see the sights, checkout that amazing scenic overlook?  Do it!

These are all things that will be coming to this blog as time allows.  Chartering a sailboat in the Caribbean is something that one never forgets.