We were surrounded. On our left, a fishing boat protruded from the dock. From the right, a strong gust of wind shook the American flag on the fly bridge. Tall wooden pilings formed boundaries on either side.Our slip at Pirate's Cove Marina in Manteo, NC, was narrow and complicated. Using the bow thruster, my dad turned the boat to back in. I stood on the bow with a looped spring line wondering how I was going to lasso it over the first piling. Ahead, a nervous dockhand watched from the fixed pier.
He motioned us forward. I prepared to throw as my dad maneuvered the thruster, but we began to drift away from the dock toward the fishing boat. The bow thruster roared as my dad fought against the wind, which was too strong. A powerful breeze carried us closer and closer until our stern was inches from hitting the other boat's bow.
My brother was asleep on the coach inside the cabin. My mom, who was standing watch from the cockpit cradling her injured shoulder, called for him, Get a bumper!My brother came outside dazed and yelled back, It's a fender! Stop calling it a bumper! But he rubbed his eyes and ran to haul one out from under the fly bridge stairs.
The owners of the other boat ran to their bow expecting a crash. The wind picked up, and my dad seemed to lose control of the thruster. I saw his scared face from the bow where I was still waiting, holding the useless spring line. Like a car accident or forgetting lines in a play, it was one of those moments when you wish time travel was real so you could try again. Memories of the last three days flooded back as I wondered how we got here.
Day 1: Crisfield, MD
Our journey began when my dad's captain's license finally arrived in the mail. To earn his license, he had endured a physical, a vision test, a drug test, CPR and a first-aid class and six written exams. Over the years, as my dad logged his 90 hours of sea time, our family took extensive family trips on sailboats, then motorboats and our 2017, 59-foot Prestige, Sababa. I loved a lot about those trips: gaining wind on the water, shuffling through rocky sands of uninhabited islands, strolling cobblestone streets under a blazing sun. But I also thought about sibling rivalries, petty fights and other things that happen when you stuff a family of five into tight quarters for a few weeks. When we docked at our home port, we were always surprised to find everyone had made it, that nobody was left floating somewhere in the Chesapeake Bay.
Still every captain needs a crew, so in July we packed our bags and began a two-week trip to the Outer Banks. This year featured my mom, suffering from a shoulder injury that was only relieved if she lay very still on her back, and my brother, 16 and uninterested in anything but his Nintendo Switch. My sister was away at camp. That left me, who had a boating license but had also forgotten everything about boating, to take on the responsibilities of first mate.
This year, I was determined to be a major contribution to our crew. The morning of the trip, I dragged myself out of bed and yawned over my father's shoulder as he taught me to start the generator, switch to general power, turn on the radar, thruster and chart plotter and set a course. We pointed the boat in the direction of Crisfield, MD, and engaged autopilot.
Docked and settled in Somer's Cove Marina, we watched Nights in Rodanthe, a film that takes place in the Outer Banks, excited for picturesque sights and culture. The movie turned out to be depressing. As wild horses galloped on the beach and the credits rolled, my mom blew her nose. My brother laughed at her.
Day 2: Norfolk, VA
Motivated by the hope of seeing wild horses in Corolla, we continued to Norfolk. My brother brought in the lines as we pulled away from Somers Cove and went back to sleep, leaving me to coil them and put away the fenders. We weren't adapted to life on a boat yet and acted like we would at home. After the inconvenience of docking and setting out, my brother slept and played video games. I read a book and flipped through social media. My mother had no choice but to spend most of the trip resting on her back. We docked at Waterside Marina by a Ferris wheel that glowed rainbow at night and toured the Nauticus museum and maze of cabins and machinery in the belly of the Battleship Wisconsin. On the museum walls, rows of white-capped sailors grinned from picture frames. Together in crisp matching uniforms, they pulled long lines and chains, landed planes and heaved barrels of gunpowder back in forth in impeccable assembly lines. The stakes on Sababa weren't quite as high. I thought about calling up to the fly bridge, where my dad was trying to concentrate on steering around crab pots, and ask him how to tie different knots then untangle all the accidental ones I got stuck in the long lines. In a rumpled T-shirt, I yelled commands at my brother, who was spilling tortilla chip crumbs around the cabin and couldn't hear me through his headphones. Family is messy, but a crew must work together. We weren't there yet.
Day 3-4: Manteo, NC
We woke at 6 a.m. to brave the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). The trip to Pirate's Cove Marina through a series of no-wake zones, locks and bridges could take up to eight hours. We had to be in Manteo, NC, by 3 p.m. to pick up our rental Jeep. Losing interest in the water, our imaginations were already settled in the Outer Banks driving over dunes, licking frosting off doughnuts, inspecting horse prints in the sand.
When we reached the Great Bridge Lock, I woke up my brother to help. He lay down on the couch and assured us he'd stagger up when the light on the lock turned green, permitting entrance through the first gate. From the fly bridge, my dad gave instructions for tying up to the side of the lock. My mom begged my brother to come out and listen. My dad threatened that he wouldn't be allowed to practice driving for a week if he didn't help, but he refused to budge. When the light turned green, he rose and tied up his line. He held it loosely with a blank bored expression. I pulled my line tighter to hold us in place.
What's wrong with you? I asked him. He didn't even look at me.
Our interactions usually went like this. From a young age, my little sibling's job was to irritate me. Growing up, we bickered and stole toys and told on each other. At home, we could squabble and cool off, continuing the conversation and the rest of the day as if nothing had happened. On the boat, we were stuck together. Trivial family arguments got in the way of efficiency and risk-free docking. Arriving at Pirates Cove Marina, we were annoyed and unprepared.
Sensing several potential problems, the dockhand directed us into a wider slip, and when the boat was close enough, he hopped onboard. He caught the stern lines and secured them to the dock. He hurled the spring and bowlines over the pilings, tightened and tied them. My brother and I watched, jumping out of his way. By himself, the dockhand accomplished the job of an entire crew.
I saw my dad's disappointed face and knew we had failed him. To add to our misery, the marina had no pump-out, and our holding tanks were full. Using the bathroom at the marina was difficult. At low tide, the boat was too far from the fixed pier. Forced to use a slippery stepstool, we could not easily get off the boat.
But it was almost 3 in the afternoon, and our Jeep and the scenic sites of the Outer Banks were waiting for us. We shook it off and left for the Wright Brothers National Memorial at Kitty Hawk, where the famous siblings took their first flight. We drove to the quaint town of Duck and wandered the boardwalk, eating popular Donutz on a Stick. Worn out, we used the bathroom at the marina and went to bed.
The next morning, pumping out became an urgent matter. Nervous to maneuver through the shallow Manteo channel, my dad watched YouTube videos detailing where to hug the green markers, where to make a sharp turn, which areas to avoid. Pulling out of our slip, we were all alert, now aware of the stakes. It was time to act like a crew.My brother and I followed captain's orders as my dad instructed us how he wanted the lines. To make the return easier, we left the stern and spring lines with loops for the pilings intact. My dad was prepared, and we made it to the pump-out station without running aground. We had made it through one obstacle, and now the final test loomed before us. On the way back through the channel, my brother and I scampered back and forth, anxiously rearranging lines, double checking cleat knots and loops, while mom relayed messages from dad on the fly bridge. Silent with concentration, we approached the slip.
Three anxious dockhands remembered us and awaited our arrival. My dad slowly backed in. I threw the spring line over the piling. To my amazement, it stuck. I turned; my brother had done the same. He threw his bowline, and when I struggled, he came to my side and threw it over for me. I tensed and prepared to save us from whatever peril we faced next, but we were settled in the slip. The dockhands hadn't moved from the pier. The man who had helped us during our failed attempt told us Good job. Good job.
I'm so proud, my dad said in the cabin. The four of us smiled, wordlessly congratulating each other on a job well done. We helped each other off the boat and headed to our Jeep. Every crew needs some vacation time. At Jockey's Ridge State Park, we hiked the largest sand dune on the East Coast. At the peak, hang gliders floated across the sand with views stretching 10 miles in every direction across the Atlantic Ocean and Roanoke Sound. In the evening, we watched The Lost Colony, a historic re-enactment show that has been playing on Roanoke Island since the 1930s.
During pirate-themed mini-golf, we shared a laugh like seasoned mariners when the captain bellowed, Raise the starboard port! Recognizing his mistake, I realized that I did understand boating. I had listened to my dad talk about boats for 10 years. I had learned to turn on chart plotters and electricity, fuel up the boat and pump out the holding tanks, set out lines and fenders (not bumpers). We all knew our way around a boat. We learned to fail and try again and eventually discovered that teamwork got us safely in the slip.
After climbing all 220 spiraled steps up the Corolla Lighthouse, we let the air out of the Jeep's tires and drove on the beach. Past sunbathers, warm waves and quiet houses, we drove off the sand roads following mounds of horse droppings. And there they were: three wild horses with long black manes chewing the grass in someone's lawn. It wasn't quite the image Nights in Rodanthe had instilled in me of horses galloping beside our Jeep, manes flowing in the wind, as they reared, kicking up and whinnying. I like to end a trip with reflection, perhaps an epiphany or two, but what I felt wasn't so dramatic. My mom's shoulder hurt, but she was pointing out horses, asking if we wanted to follow more mounds of manure. My dad, I knew, would rather be watching Wimbledon but instead was driving a Jeep on back roads, because he planned these vacations for us, our family. My brother opened a bag of Sour Patch Kids and offered to share. I looked forward to watching our last Outer Banks sunset as a crew who had unlocked the secret of working together and now would get along, at least until the next trip.
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The scenic Canal du Midi in southern France is a must for boaters! Cruising this 300-year-old waterway, you will savor the slow easy French pace, passing medieval villages, country farms and vineyards in the heart of the Languedoc wine region. Le Boat, the largest charter boat operation in Europe, offers surprisingly affordable, entry- level charters to this canal (and hundreds of other waterways). This historic passage is easy to navigate, scenic, fun and a UNESCO World Heritage site.
Boating at a mellow 5 kilometers an hour aboard your vessel of 30-45 feet, the big excitement is passing through the lock system every few kilometers and arriving in ancient villages as your daily destination on your personal private cruise ship.
Don’t expect a luxury yacht holiday, however, because you are the crew and captain, you will be driving the boat or donning gloves to handle the dock lines in each “écluse” (lock). But it’s entertaining and affords a sense of freedom by chartering your own boat and navigating these centuries-old canals. Le Boat provides itineraries of how far you should voyage each day, but it’s truly up to you.
Our weeklong voyage started in Castelnaudary, a small, pretty village. Le Boat’s base in Castelnaudary is in the Grand Basin with a lovely view of the cathedral and village across the waterway, just a short walk over an old stone bridge to town. We could also see the majestic Pyrenees Mountains to our southwest along the French-Spanish border.
Our first night, after our swift check in and orientation aboard our 40’ Horizon, we strolled to town, enjoyed local Languedoc wine and dinner at the Maison du Cassoulet sampling the specialty dish of slow-cooked white beans, tender pork and duck. Traditional “cassoulet” was a staple historically, especially in meager winters. Wow is it yummy and filling!
While returning over the old stone bridge back to our boat within the fleet, twinkling lights of the village reflected in the canal. We were excited to embark the next morning after a quiet comfy night’s sleep in the berth of our Horizon — Le Boat’s most modern vessel, equipped with a head, shower and full galley kitchen.
Before bed, I read about the fascinating history of the Canal du Midi. It was initially commissioned in 1516 by King Francis who hired Leonardo DaVinci to survey and create the route. Canal construction didn’t commence until 1667 and was completed in 1694, connecting 240 kilometers from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean with aqueducts, bridges and 91 locks to overcome the 620 feet height change in water level.
Designed as a trade route to shorten the otherwise long passage around the Iberian Peninsula, it’s also called the “Canal des Deux Mers” or canal of two seas. This vital trade route for two centuries is now a meandering waterway for pleasure boaters as well as bicyclists riding the tow paths paralleling the canal.
On the first morning, our first lock was the most dramatic, departing Castelnaudary via a series of four locks that descend 9.5 meters in consecutive rushes of water. Captain Greg (my husband) and I established our duties: he’d drive into the narrow stone chamber (thankful for bow thrusters) while I secured lines to the lock shore, ready to adjust as the water floods out.
We traveled in tandem with two other boats, a Swiss family and a German couple. All were experienced boaters, so we developed an efficient rhythm of entering the locks sequentially, tying up, descending and exiting in order.
We cruised 15 locks by noon, then tied to a canal bank for the daily lunchtime lock closure of 12-1:00 p.m. We’d provisioned in Castelnaudary for the perfect picnic of flaky croissants, local ham and cheese, and a glass of Languedoc rosé on our boat’s top sun deck.
When the “Eclusier” (lock operator) returned to open the lock for us, we cruised the canal again with the occasional excitement of encountering oncoming boats in the narrow canal. Some boat captains were better at steering than others.
Our first day, we clocked 19 locks, 26 kilometers from 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. We chose to stay overnight in Villesèque, a lovely anchorage with a few other boats tied to the shores. There was no marina, but we could walk to the tiny village over a charming stone bridge to see the church and the Sully elm tree planted in the square, among the last elms still alive in France.
We toasted to our first boat day with wine and cheese on our top deck, and invited over our boat neighbors, a delightful South African couple who proved Le Boat’s international appeal. He’d never boated before, but Le Boat states that you need no prior boating experience.
On Day 2 we cruised under sunny early October skies, loving the canopy of iconic Plane trees that drape some of the river. Unfortunately, much of the 40,000 Plane trees along the 240- kilometer stretch are diseased. Over 25% have the blight and are systematically being cut and burned, a huge undertaking. In parts of the river, trees are being removed, and replanting different species is underway, but it will take time to reestablish the majestic trees.
We arrived midday at the marina of Carcassonne and docked our boat well-positioned for exploring the city, with views of the waterfront park and tour boats coming and going across the Aude River.
Carcassonne exceeded my expectations, and I know now why it’s the second most visited tourist attraction in France (#1 is the Eiffel Tower). La Cité is a massive, fortified castle with 52 spiraling turrets and imposing double walls of rampart circling 3 kilometers perched above a medieval village.
We immediately rode our bikes, provided by our Le Boat charter, up to the fairytale citadel. You can also ride le Petite Train for 7 Euro. Crossing the castle drawbridge, we stepped in to La Cité and the 13th century. Be sure to pay to enter and appreciate the scale of the ramparts and the view of Carcassonne’s lower city and the Pyrenees to the west. Then stroll the maze of medieval cobblestone streets filled with shops and cafés. Lunch at Comte Roger was a chic culinary treat. A real luxury would be to stay at the five-star Hôtel de la Cité for an elegant evening in the illuminated castle.
Back in Carcassonne’s village, we found the grand pedestrian plazas marked by statues and fountains, boutiques, bakeries and casual bistros. It’s a fun city to explore on foot, with provisions aplenty for boaters.
The next morning, after fresh pain au chocolat, we hopped on our bikes to cycle to wineries. Greg guided us with his iPhone’s Komoot app, which maps out recommended hiking and biking routes. Château Auzais (est. 1872) was a wonderful tour and tasting. Our guide described the Occitanie wine’s bouquet as the convergence of Atlantic winds melding with the Mediterranean, as we sipped our favorite wine aptly named “La Cité des Ventes.”
Château de Pennautier was another fantastic estate. The gorgeous 1620 castle was home to the financier of the Canal du Midi construction — the same architect who designed Versailles. The château’s authentic furniture is gorgeous. Reserve an interior castle tour or just stroll the beautiful gardens. From here, we visited the sister winery and restaurant for a lovely lunch and wine tasting of Pennautier’s whites, rosés and reds.
We planned to boat the next day to Trèbes from Carcassonne but biked instead. The tow paths along the canal are ideal, in fact you can cycle faster than you can boat. We waved to fellow charter boats as we breezed by vineyards, farms, locks and bridges. Our return into Carcassonne provided stunning views of two UNESCO World Heritage Sites at once — La Cité Castle and Canal du Midi.
Our return trip from Carcassonne to Castelnaudary only took a day through 24 locks and 30 kilometers with our now well-orchestrated rhythm of navigating locks. Our timing was good for the opening of most locks, and we traveled solo, as mid-October is end of the season the lock keeper told me. Summer is very busy on the canal, with boats in a queue for their turn in locks, and busier marinas.
As for the voyage, I recommend you plan one-way (for an upcharge) for the adventure of all new places along your voyage. The round trip had us retracing our passage, viewing previous scenery. We prefer the excitement of not knowing what’s around the next river bend and discovering new villages.
Also ascending the locks, going upriver, is more difficult. Captain Greg would let me off on a dock before the lock, I’d walk ahead and retrieve his tossed lines to secure the boat, we’d adjust during the rush of cascading water, then I’d board our boat when it came to the top of the full lock.
We felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment, having completed our week with success (i.e. no one fell in, no damage to boat). Our final day was leisurely aboard the boat, walking Castelnaudary’s village to a delightful bakery, to the cathedral and up the hill to the windmill, a wonderful 17th century Moulin with splendid views of Black Mountain and the French countryside. We biked along the canal, then relaxed on our boat’s sun deck viewing the Spanish peaks where we planned to ski in winter.
Our check out was quick but thorough. Le Boat’s fleet varies in age, so I was happy we’d opted for the newer spacious Horizon model. Funny, other couples posed for selfies by our boat preferring our more sophisticated-looking vessel for their posts. Some of the older boats are a bit banged up from lock passages, a testament to the “no license or experience required” policy of Le Boat.
We’re already browsing Le Boat’s itineraries: Italy, Germany, Scotland, Ireland, England, the Netherlands or Canada for our next charter adventure.
PHOTOS BY GREG BURKE
“WOW!” WAS ALL I COULD COME UP WITH when my neighbor asked, “So, how was Croatia?” I simply ran out of adjectives to express the beauty and allure of this country. With its unique combination of history, culture, cuisine, friendly locals, rugged mountains, long coastline and crystalline blue waters, not to mention hosting a world-class boating scene, it’s easy to see how Croatia is becoming a popular destination with something to excite everyone.
If you are looking for history, then exploring one of the many Croatian UNESCO World Heritage Sites will quench your passion for the past. Transport yourself back to the 4th century AD with a stroll through the remnants of a Roman emperor’s palace. Wander through one of the best-preserved Roman coliseums in the world, and you can almost hear gladiators’ swords clashing against wooden shields.
Croatia’s story is woven together with charming medieval hill towns where regal bell towers seem to pierce the heavens. Climb the ancient tower’s stone steps spiraling to the top and be rewarded with breathtaking vistas. Look straight down past the windows with a line of colorful laundry fluttering in the breeze and on to the delightfully twisty cobblestone streets just wide enough for a donkey cart to pass. Now, centuries later these lanes are lined with enticing artisan shops, gelato stands, and tucked into every bend, a little sidewalk café begging to be discovered.
Ruins of castles and fortresses dot not only the coastline but many of the islands. Standing guard, their thick limestone walls once provided safe haven to the residents within, and now only serve as a testament of a more turbulent time. Walk along the massive stone fortifications and peer down into the moat, and one can almost feel the thunder of horse hooves as knights ride across the drawbridge.
Surround yourself in the art of the ages by stepping inside Croatia’s sacred churches and splendid cathedrals, the architecture spanning the Gothic, Romanesque and Baroque periods.
Although it is possible to stay in a Hilton-style hotel or rent a Mediterranean villa by the sea, you have other options. We chose to immerse ourselves in the medieval world by staying in the heart of the old town centers in family-run studio apartments. Sleeping under a roof that dated back 600 years enriched our Croatia experience while also supporting a local family business. These cozy apartments are refurbished to modern standards and are as comfortable as any four-star hotel.
If you’re a nature lover, Croatia boasts eight national parks. One can hike a lake rim and descent onto a series of wooden boardwalks meandering among turquoise waterfalls giving a unique on-the-water view of Mother Nature’s power or try backpacking through an island forest. However, you do not have to go to a national park to be enveloped in nature, as Croatia is a wonderland anywhere you turn.
If you’re into adrenaline sports, Croatia can provide all you need from bungee jumping to zip lining. For those leaning toward adventure with less heart stopping action, cycling, paddleboarding, sea kayaking or snorkeling are popular choices. My favorite jaunt was an all-day off-road dune buggy ride with a final stop at a local winery for a tour and tasting.
Croatia has a long history in winemaking, and wine tourism is becoming increasingly popular. Croatia cuisine reflects the flavors of central Europe, Italy and the Mediterranean. The coast of the Adriatic Sea is famous for its fish and seafood dishes while the inland menu features hearty meat platters. Sharing a border with Italy, it’s not unusual to be enticed with handmade pasta or even pizza.
Wrapped around all these sensory experiences is the Croatian people. Perhaps it’s due to the mild Mediterranean climate that the locals exude, a version of a “malo po malo” or “little by little” attitude that entices us fast-paced city dwellers to slow down and take in life. Pausing for a wine spritzer or cappuccino at a sidewalk café could last hours, and it’s not only quite all right...it’s expected. As a local told us; “There’s no such thing as coffee to-go in Croatia.”
This small country is touted as the number one sailing destination in Europe, and with good reason. Rivaling the West Coast of the United States in length, Croatia’s shores are lined with protected ports and marinas that support a wide range of options for visiting the more than 1,200 islands. So, it’s no wonder that each year many visitors opt to explore Croatia by water.
If your taste leans toward a traditional cruise line, you will find an ample supply of lavish cruise ships capable of hosting more than 3,000 guests making overnight stops at the most popular ports of call.
For those seeking a more intimate experience, it’s increasingly popular to book a cabin on a 20 to 40 passenger luxury yacht. Croatia specializes in these small ship cruise lines, because they can explore tiny islands with hidden coves and access regions of the coast larger ships can’t navigate. Becoming your mobile boutique hotel, these opulent yachts boast the finest service, cuisine, spacious teak sundecks and even jacuzzis to enjoy your final nightcap.
Looking to be captured by the romance of exploring the Adriatic under sail? Then your hot ticket may be booking a cabin on one of the smaller eight to 16 passenger schooners known as gulets. Handcrafted of mahogany, pine and teak, these motor-sailing gulets offer a marvelous blend of modern-day comforts with charms of tradition. Potentially a little more laidback, swimming, sunbathing and just plain relaxing become a favorite pastime of the guests.
If you’re a bit more on the adventurous side, contact one of the many charter boat companies servicing Croatia to reserve your own sailboat or powerboat. Both are available as bareboat or skippered charters. Many choose a local captain to handle the boat and play guide, allowing you to kickback and gain a sense of the culture, all the while discovering his favorite anchorages, villages and local restaurants you would have missed along the way. You just might end the cruise with a new best friend.
If you’re land trekking and want a quick taste of boating life in the Adriatic, wander down to the harbor and book a day cruise from a variety of island tours or dinner cruises offered on small excursion boats.
After a full day of exploring, we often found ourselves joining the locals sitting on the rocky shoreline and hoisting our drinks to yet another magnificent Adriatic sunset.
Ever tasted Grk wine? If not, don’t feel bad. Most people, including wine connoisseurs, have never heard of, much less tasted, Grk “Gerk” wine. This Holy Grail of wines is one of the more elusive vinos in the world that ironically enjoys an almost cult-like following in Croatia.
Among wine specialists, there is no consensus whether this peculiar three letter name comes from the wine’s taste (to locals, Grk translates to bitter) or the origins of the first grapes brought to this area by the Greeks, which is also Grk in Croatian.
Around the 3rd century BC, ancient Greeks settled just off the coast of what is now mainland Croatia to a small island called Korčula bringing their precious vines. The southern slopes provided what Grk likes the most: excellent sandy soil and temperature stability under the influence of the surrounding sea. Vines enjoy sunny days, and locals swear that the grapes also benefit from the added reflection of the sun both off the water and the rocky hillsides behind.
These factors seem to be the sweet spot for cultivating this rare variety; however, the precious microclimate only exists in less than 100 acres of coastal land, which is the entirety of all the Grk planted in the world. Cultivation on other islands or in other parts of the country and the world have failed for the most part, making this one of the rarest grapes and categorized as “almost endangered” by the State Institute for Nature Protection.
To make matters worse, Grk is among the 1% of grape varieties in the world that cannot self-pollinate. Because Grk has only female flowers, it is always planted with the male grape vine nearby to enable pollination. This additional complication also hampers the desire to upscale commercial production.
Limited in production, it’s rare to see Grk wine served or sold outside Korčula. So, the best chance to savor this wine is to visit the handful of family wineries producing Grk. During summer when Korčula welcomes a massive influx of tourists, almost the entire production of Grk wine can be consumed within a season.
Time to start my Grk quest. I took the two-hour ferry ride to the island of Korčula, and a short bus ride left me within walking distance of three family wineries. Confession: I had planned to visit all three wineries, but after I got settled into my wine sampling accompanied by a delectable charcuterie board, I began easing into island time and whiling away the afternoon at just one winery.
A tour of the production was accomplished practically from my seat overlooking the vineyards. I did walk over to view the wine cellar, which had enough room to house only eight wine barrels. These are tiny boutique wineries, and the labor of love that goes into making this wine is evident. I asked the owner if they bottled their wine to sell or import off the island. Looking at me quizzically, he replied that it was for sale only for individuals that came to visit the winery, and they sold out each year.
But was it good? As more of a full-bodied red wine lover, I didn’t know what to expect when he poured this pale golden wine. It was fabulous. It displayed an astounding depth and complexity I usually do not associate with white wine. The taste and texture were dry with hints of pine, citrus and saltiness leaving a subtle touch of tartness or bitterness at the finish.
I left the winery feeling my quest was accomplished. I smiled knowing that the bottle of Grk swaying in my backpack wasn’t going to make it back to the United States in my carry-on luggage, so I’d just have to enjoy it here. Now I have one more reason to return.
My husband, Tim, and I spent most of 2021 and part of 2022 completing the Great Loop on our 31-foot Camano trawler, Sweet Day. One of the most unexpected and best parts of the trip was the opportunity to share our experience with friends and family. Guests stayed overnight, family members joined us for a day cruise, and generous friends brought over meals when we passed through their hometowns. For those who couldn’t experience Sweet Day physically, we shared our journey through our blog and Instagram, and caught up with stories when we got together off the boat.
Boaters who are familiar with liveaboard life know there is no shortage of questions that curious people ask about a nautical lifestyle. Those who are exploring this way of life may feel like there is no end to the questions you could ask.
Below is a compilation of the most common questions we posed to us about our year doing the Great Loop and living full-time on Sweet Day. Hopefully the responses will get you ready for your adventures on this incomparable waterway.
The Great Loop is a 6,000+ mile “loop” around the eastern U.S. and Canadian waterways. The journey takes about a year, if done consecutively, and covers 15+ states and two countries, depending on your route. A few hundred “loopers” complete the journey each year, some doing it all at once, and others covering segments year by year. Loopers plan their journey traveling by seasons to avoid hurricanes in the South and tough winters up North. The America’s Great Loop Cruisers’ Association (AGLCA) is the resource for all things related to the Loop, and we highly encourage checking them out when planning your trip.
If you are currently looping for the first time, it is traditional to fly a white AGLCA burgee or “flag.” Once you complete the loop, it is customary to replace your white burgee with a gold AGLCA burgee to indicate to other boaters that you already completed the full loop. Those who have done the loop more than once fly a platinum burgee. All burgees can be ordered from the AGLCA website. It’s a great way to easily spot and meet other loopers.
Since many of us on the loop travel the same segments of the trip at the same time, it is common to see loopers at a dock, anchorage or cruising by. The AGLCA burgee makes it easy to spot cruisers on the journey, and a lot of loopers also use the Nebo app, which shows where other loopers are physically located, so you can message each other. Sometimes we travel a few days with the same boats; others you may see one day and then meet up again a few weeks later.
Having a flexible schedule and keeping a close eye on the weather kept us mostly out of uncomfortable waters. We used services such as Windy, AccuWeather, and NOAA to anticipate wind speeds and wave heights. We tried to only cruise when waves were under three feet, although twice we found ourselves in five+ foot waves (once on the Chesapeake heading to Annapolis and another heading to Presque Isle, MI, on Lake Huron), because our final destination happened to be closer than trying to find an alternative place of refuge. We also encountered strong wind while at anchor and tied up to docks, especially when the wind was going against the tide outside Savannah. By staying vigilant about our lines and anchor holding, we luckily were never in any danger. They say the boat can handle more than the captain, and thankfully the only thing we ever lost due to weather was a few hours of sleep.
Our trawler had a v-berth with enough room for us to sleep comfortably. Often when we were near friends and family, they would offer for us to stay on land. Sometimes we took them up on it, but we preferred to stay on Sweet Day. Just like a land house, Sweet Day had all our comforts of home (because it was our home), and anytime we didn’t have to pack a bag was a plus.
We ate about 75% of our meals on the boat using our tiny kitchen equipped with a small oven, three-burner stove, microwave, fridge and some pantry space. We ate out if we found a must-see place or were exhausted from a long day and not in the mood to cook. But often we were not close to a restaurant and had to be creative with what was in our pantry. We went to a grocery store two to three times a week by bike and would get enough fresh food for about three dinners (and snacks for lunches) but were limited by what we could carry and store in our boat. Because we didn’t have space for a ton of food, and sometimes our meals were whatever we had on board, so we wasted a lot less food than when living on land.
We get this question all the time, and it’s still challenging to answer. Each part of the trip (inland rivers, Gulf of Mexico, Intracoastal Waterway, Chesapeake Bay, Delaware and Hudson Rivers, Erie Canal, Great Lakes) posed their unique challenges, breathtaking scenery, regional cuisine and character. The loop has too many special places to mark our favorites as each place we stopped shaped our journey, whether it was having a conversation with a dock hand to enjoying a locally made beer, to attending a community BBQ. Our country’s waterways are beautiful and a critical part of our infrastructure, and the life that is built around them is always worth experiencing.
Mostly no, but sometimes we were very aware we were living together on a 31-foot boat. We learned communication is key and ultimately felt very fortunate to be on this journey together. Before the trip, we heard about the “80/80 Marriage,” which is the concept that spouses should not try to ensure each is doing their fair share (or 50/50), but each should aim to do 80%. This mindset helped a lot. At night lying in bed, I may say, “I forgot to turn off the water pump. Tim, can you do an 80 for me and get up and turn it off?” Or Tim would comment, “Kate, you really pulled an 80 on cooking dinner and doing the dishes.” We couldn’t imagine doing this trip with anyone else.
We consider us both the captain. While we both have our strengths, each of us was involved in almost every aspect of the boat. We both drove, troubleshot boat problems, navigated, planned routes, grocery shopped, cleaned and so on. From a safety standpoint, it was important both of us could take on responsibilities should something happen to the other. This was our journey, and it was vital to us that we both were involved in decisions and operations that made this adventure possible.
Article and photos by Kate Carney
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