"HOLY TOLEDO, THERE'S A LOT OF WATER OUT HERE!"
This was my reaction as I emerged from the cabin on my first trip to the cockpit after being sick in my bunk for a day and a half. We were well clear of the eastern edge of the Gulf Stream and I was becoming hopeful - not chipper mind you, but somewhat hopeful; the sun was out, the sea had settled a bit, and I was feeling better - at least for now. As I let the warm breeze caress my face I reflected: How did I get here? What on earth am I doing here? Will I ever really enjoy this lifestyle? Can I live with this man who brought me here? Not the usual thoughts of a newlywed as she approached her one-year anniversary - or maybe they are typical. Hey, getting married in middle-age is certainly not for sissies. (Service sez: Middle-age Cupcake? "So, do you really expect to live to be one hundred and six?") See what I mean, why does he have to say these mean things?

TRANSITION:
Was it really less than three years ago that I had stopped in at Starbucks for that life-changing Carmel Macchiato and met this man? I seemed to have just turned around and the house in suburbia (as he calls it), my truck, my business, and most of all, my kid, are gone! What happened? Here I stand, grasping the handle of a manual clothes wringer which my grandmother (or perhaps her mother) would have used; and to add just a bit more confusion, I find myself in a clear tropical anchorage surrounded by the world's most POSH mega-yachts that I know have their own mega-washers and mega-dryers on board. I don't think I could have even made up this story three years ago.

TAKING CARE OF LILLY:
In my former athletic career and business life I was used to being First Team all the way; and in fact, I have never been on a sports team that I was not elected captain. But I made up my mind starting out on this, my first blue water passage on Tiger Lilly, that I was just going to take care of myself and allow Tom to be the captain. Tom whole-heartily agreed with me, and promptly appointed me Admiral of the Boat. He kept reassuring me that although this winter passage directly between the east coast of Florida and the West Indies was a challenge - the adverse winds, light air, successive cold fronts, and the "occasional" gale likely encountered on this off shore route was much preferred to sitting in the Bahama's at Chicken Harbor with the rock hoppers, pot-luckers, and pinochle players; but I'm not so sure that the Thorny Path, as it is called, is really so bad. Over the past 18 months or so we had adopted a crawl / walk / run approach to my sailing indoctrination. First we stayed in Florida's ICW and the St. Johns River, then we progressed to a coastal cruise from Florida north to the Chesapeake Bay and back, and this past spring we completed a sailboat delivery project from Connecticut to Florida with about half of that voyage off shore. Tom was preparing me for blue water sailing, and HE said I was getting better, and I guess I didn't seem quite as seasick as I was those first few times out; but I was still afraid that I was going to be sick all the way to the West Indies. My greatest fear about my new lifestyle was that my seasickness would not allow me to be any help to my Tom-Tom while we were sailing off shore on long passages. As a nun takes a vow of chastity, I took one of self; I vowed to learn to just take care of Lilly on this voyage. (Tom sez: OK Lill's family - PLEASE, no laughing at the nun / chastity part! But I must admit that I am having a difficult time keeping a straight face myself.) I wanted to learn more about the boat, and I wanted to learn how to make off shore passages - but first and foremost I didn't want to be sick and miserable. Tom told me that by day two of our voyage to Antigua I would likely start to feel better - if I would just take it easy - something I have never done well in my life. I even surprised myself though, because that is exactly what I did; I was faithful to my vow of not over doing anything (well almost) - which is completely out of character for someone like me.

MENTORING:
Fortunately, before we left Florida I had the opportunity for some great mentoring from women like circumnavigator Pam Wall of S/V Kandarik and Sherry McCampbell of S/V Soggy Paws; both very experienced and capable sailors who took me under their wings. These new cruising friends seemed to have a different plan for life than the dog-eat-dog business environment which I was used to; they were driven towards helping others meet the challenges and find enjoyment in the sailing and cruising lifestyle - with no expectation of anything in return - how altruistic and refreshing. What's more, both of these women were from Tom's former life, and yet they made me feel very welcome in their world. I liked them, identified with them, and learned from them. For me, it just seemed to be easier learning from another woman since there were no agendas; just friendship, camaraderie, and a lot of laughs discussing "those" men. They gave me some books to read, and gave me a lot of good practical information in their presentations at the Seven Seas Cruising Association Gams. I especially enjoyed the early morning walks with Sherry on the beach at Indian Harbor. As we walked the beach we talked about the upcoming passage that Tom and I were about to make; the 1600 miles of sailing and not seeing land for two weeks, the challenges of staying clean and comfortable at sea on a small boat, what clothes to wear, and what to do when the wind gets up and the sea gets rough. They told me about some of the passages that they had made (some were pleasant, and others simply had to be endured) and how they persevered. (Oh, and I must also remember to thank my over-the-road truck driver sister, Thea, for the wonderful gift of Aloe Wipes - they were my lifesaver.)

CHALLENGE:
Based on my own limited experience, and with the help of these kind women, I realized that this passage was not going to be anything like sitting in Julington Creek with our keel stuck deep in the mud, or propped-up on the hard on jack-stands and keel blocks in a St. Augustine boatyard - this was going to be far more challenging. I had seen a few challenges before in my life, and I just made up my mind to suck it up and sort it out. I can remember straddling my mountain bike at the base of Albuquerque's 10,000 foot Sandia Peak, along with a couple hundred other very fit competitors, ready for the start of my first world class hill-climb; I had been the recipient of some very good mentoring before that race, and it paid off when I was the first woman across the finish line at the top of that steep mountain. I was very fortunate to have a similar quality of mentoring for my sailing challenge, and I was just as determined to succeed. I look at other women who have enjoyed and thrived in this sailing and cruising lifestyle, and I made up my mind that I could do this, too.

TOUGH CHICK:
Tom-Tom called me "Tough Chick" and reminded me of the story of "Little Toot" - the tug that could (you know how very corny he can be sometimes). Coming up with nicknames was a fun thing, and calling Tom "Tough Guy" was a name that appropriately fit a man like him. One of the first things that Tough Guy told me was that the cell phone that had been physically connected to my hip for the past 23 years had to go - there would be no connection at sea; and this was not a temporary disconnection, this was for the duration of our cruising. That came as a real shock to a woman who had about 300 phone numbers of clients, friends, and family stored on her SIM card. I do believe that Tom was jumping for joy when our phones finally took a dive in the Gulf Stream. Oh my gosh, no more connection with family, friends, and most of all my precious son, Ryan - how would I survive? (Tom-Tom reminded me whenever I would go off on this "no communication" tangent that we had HAM radio email at sea, and Internet email and the Skype telephone on the computer in port. (But somehow all I could think of was unplugging from my ever present cell phone.) Now I realize that sometimes it is just a case of too much information. For instance, in one of the last calls that I received from my boy before we sailed from Port Canaveral he informed me that he and his buddies had been pepper-sprayed by the security guards at a concert at the Jacksonville Landings the previous evening. Now isn't that just what a mom needs to hear just before an extended ocean voyage? Tom sez that based on his experience in the Navy that mothers are better off NOT knowing all the details about the activities of their 21 year-old sons. Perhaps he is right; maybe, I need to love Ryan from afar for awhile! Another concept that Tom-Tom tried to drill into me was that once we could not see land (He calls it taking our departure - why can't he just call things what they are?) that Tiger Lilly was our life support system, we were dependent on her for everything - just like the astronauts on the Space Shuttle. That is why we treat our boat / equipment / supplies so much differently then what I had seen by recreational weekend boaters. In my mind's eye, I began to think of Tiger Lilly as a spaceship - and where we were going was just as unimaginable to me as a trip to Mars!