Cruising can be a bit whiplashy. In addition to the nearly constant physical motion, the emotional whiplash is waiting in the shadows, ready to strike when you least expect. Higher highs and lower lows, right?

This past week we visited some extremely cool spots. After riding out a big storm in Rock Sound, we crossed from Eleuthera to Highbourne Cay, where we anchored in crystal clear water close enough to a white powdery beach that the kids could jump off the back of the boat and swim to it, which they did nearly every day. We all lived in our swim suits and took regular dips in the water, often with snorkel masks. There wasn’t much to see, but when the water is that clear you can’t help but want to look. The kids found a glass bottle close to our anchor, inspiring dreams of pirate treasure maps as well as a newfound desire to practice freediving.

After Highbourne, we moved south to Shroud Cay. This is one I was excited about, as we had heard great things about a place called the washing machine. It did not disappoint. We took a dinghy ride through the mangroves, spotting turtles and a nurse sharks along the way. The first time we went was low tide, and parts of the route were so shallow we ended up paddling, or sometimes even getting out to pull. That was Rowan’s favorite part and he was often already half way out of the dinghy as soon as anyone suggested it might be too shallow. The washing machine itself was nothing more than a pool of water at low tide, but when we went back the next day at high tide was a site to behold. The current picks up significantly as it leaves the mangroves through a narrow passage to empty into the Atlantic Ocean, similar to a natural waterslide. There’s a wide sandbar between the two, which makes it safe to ride the current out to the sandbar, then stand up and walk back to the beach to do it all over again. Even better, at certain times of tide there’s a whirlpool where you can do slow, lazy river circles with almost no effort. We met another kid boat at this anchorage and our kids had a blast playing with them in the water for two days.

We probably could have stayed at Shroud Cay for longer (and maybe we should have??) but a storm was coming, and we felt the need to continue south to the next anchorage on our list. Lots of careful consideration went into exactly when and where to move to, with hours spent pouring over Predict Wind’s forecasts for both wind speed and direction. The decision was made to leave early Tuesday morning, intending to ride the north easterly winds and be safely tucked away in our next anchorage before the winds were forecasted to pick up and change to more south easterly that afternoon.

Unfortunately, sometimes weather models are just wrong. (In fact, we’ve taken to calling Predict Wind “predict nothing” due to how often it’s incorrect.) Not only were the winds significantly stronger than expected (gusts up to 35kts, which we do not feel comfortable with,) but they also shifted to the south east sooner than expected, which left us bashing into the wind. Since our motors can’t do a whole lot upwind against 35kts, we spent most of the time tacking back and forth on heavily reefed sails. To add insult to injury, it rained on and off the whole time. Between the rain and frequent waves breaking over the bow, Neal and I got absolutely soaked. The kids were green, and every single thing we hadn’t thought to secure inside the boat ended up on the floor. Every. Single. Thing. After about 6 hours of this we bailed and found the closest anchorage to wait out the storm. This was when we discovered that our hatches in the forward cabins leak like sieves when repeatedly doused horizontally with saltwater, and our bed and Ian and Rowan’s were soaked. At a time when all we wanted was to crawl into bed and forget the day ever happened.

The anchorage we chose thankfully had enough space for us to swing without worrying about hitting anyone. Unfortunately, that was about all it had going for it. We spent 2 miserable days being tossed around by strong winds and heavy current. It was difficult to sleep feeling like we were on passage and wondering whether the anchor would hold. Tempers were short all around and the boys were going stir crazy not being able to get off the boat. This was definitely a low spot where I *almost* started to wonder why we’re doing this when we could’ve been safe in a warm, dry, stationary home. To make matters worse, it has been awhile since we’ve seen a grocery store and fresh fruits and vegetables. We still have frozen meat and canned and dry goods, but being hungry has become a state of being for us for the past few weeks. Certain individuals who shall not be named but rhyme with “Mian” and “Meal” get very grumpy when they’re hungry. I probably do too, but rose colored self-reflection glasses and all that.

The weather finally broke and we were all more than ready to get out of there. We really didn’t do Warderick Wells justice, but none of us wanted to spend another second in that anchorage and had no desire to check out the island or nearby snorkeling spots. We hightailed it down to O’Brien’s Cay, which had been our original destination on the ill-fated stormy sailing day.

A calm day after multiple stormy ones feels like an emotional rainbow. We basked in the ability to walk around the boat without holding on to anything. We literally basked in the warmth of the sun and had a family sunbathing session on the trampolines. (For 20 minutes, because some of us are extremely fair skinned and concerned about skin cancer.) But the absolute best part was a snorkeling spot called the aquarium. We had heard it was a not-to-be-missed spot and it truly was. The second I jumped off the dinghy I was completely surrounded by schools of fish. I’ve never seen so many in my life and it was literally like snorkeling in an aquarium. We circumnavigated the island with our snorkels, fins, and masks, looking at all the pretty coral and tons upon tons of brightly colored tropical fish. My favorites were little ones with yellow tails and blue polka dots so bright they looked like they were glowing underwater. I could have lived in that water and Neal had to drag me back onto the dinghy. (Literally…as we’re all still trying to figure out the best way to get back onboard with limited hand holds to use for self-hoisting.)

So is it worth it? Heck yes. Bad days happen everywhere. So do good, but the types of good days we’ve had since moving aboard are next level good. I love the family time we’re getting with our kids. We are all nature people and tend to be happiest when we get plenty of time outside, and it’s hard to beat the outdoor time we get living on a boat. The pace of this lifestyle has been a much needed break for all of us from the hamster wheel. My grandpa used to say that he would quit his job once he had two bad days in a row. (He worked into his 80s!) We’re taking a similar approach to boat life. Although two bad days in a row are common, we understand that the hard things in life are often the things most doing. Plus, beaches like this!