Essays

Returning to land

The Intrusion of Real Life
By John Guy

Chris Parker and Michael Zidziunas returned to land, to real life, in 2005, having sailed and lived aboard since 1993. The transition was not easy.

“Going sailing,” said Chris, “is exciting. But returning is not.

“When we purchased our first boat, a Cheoylee 30, and then declared that we would sail around the world, our friends were excited and our employers supportive. We imagined brilliant sunshine and lovely beaches. Planning, acquiring, learning and implementing caused our thoughts to soar. We enjoyed reconditioning and provisioning, and celebrating bon voyage with friends. The anticipation was worth the price of admission.

“The same was not true when we decided to leave the sea. No one celebrated. No one encouraged. We were alone in our discussions, and discouraged, because we did not want to leave, but the cold reality of personal economics forced the decision. As my weather center clientele expanded, I was working ten hours a day on the boat, leaving little time for relaxation. We needed the income from my work, but life became all work, little fun. We needed more time and more space.

“While neither of us had a home base, Michael had friends in Lakeland, Florida, where he believed he could become a professional light sport flight instructor and mechanic, while I built the single side band radio station required for my work. Unlike some cruisers, we had no house; we had to move into a dilapidated trailer, where we hoped to live only a few months. The trailer was fine for a time, but as the months rolled on we became tired of it, and more and more stressed as we tried to find a permanent house while organizing our careers. We both needed to establish ourselves. Michael did not earn money for several months because he had to find a base of operations and renew his licenses. Meanwhile, I had to put together my weather information system, and my radios.

“Our expenses were horrendous. On the boat, we struggled to spend $25,000 per year. On land, the costs of acquiring a house, two cars, curtains, kitchen and eating implements, insurance, two lawn mowers, trailering and storing our boat (Bel Ami, a Morgan 34, acquired in 2002), taxes, and acquiring other necessities which many cruisers maintain in storage while cruising, rose to more than $50,000 in six months. We could handle it, but this reality was unfamiliar and nerve-racking. It was shocking. As I dealt with the stress of change, I gained 25 pounds in one year. This period was very traumatic!”

Chris and Michael are settled now. They moved into the new house in August, 2005. They have five acres, plenty of room for large radio antennas. Their careers are advancing. The initial disorientation is gone. However, they still have mixed feelings about their decision. The bills still are larger than contemplated, and fond memories continue to intrude. In their personal discussions, they are trying to figure out how each could take several months off each year to explore places cruisers love, such as The Bay Islands of Honduras and The San Blas Islands of Panama. To cruise again, they both need to find individuals to handle their businesses, to back them up. They hope to put something together by mid 2008.

Chris does not feel that he can offer specific advice to others who are contemplating the end of their cruising experiences. He knows that his life, and factors bearing on his decisions, are different than for cruisers who maintain permanent homes, or who have either wealth or permanent income from retirement plans. But, he does offer two important suggestions:

“First,” he says, “be absolutely sure that the time is right to change the life style. On leaving in 1992, friends asked us how long we would cruise. Our answer was, ‘until it no longer is fun.' Our problem was that cruising remained fun, but that practical needs overcame the dream.

“Second, before you abandon the sea, figure out your next adventure, something fun, about which you feel passionate.”