(Or, how we made Christmas work on board!)

One of the reasons we kept Calypso for our extended cruising plans instead of upgrading to a larger boat was that we wanted to be able to fly our kids in for holidays aboard. The budget demands of a bigger vessel might preclude that possibility, especially as we get farther afield and flights get more costly. Granted, we hadn’t anticipated buying a SECOND 28’ boat either, but that’s a whole other story.

A BCC works well for 2 people. It can even, with some flexibility, work for 4. After all, there are 4 berths and ostensibly enough storage for appropriate amounts of stuff. You better like each other and be prepared for a modest amount of shuffling, but I’d think we could probably manage to do longer range cruising with 4 aboard. 

Oh wait. We did. The kids were smaller then, the boat layout was different, and (maybe even more importantly) the plan had always been for 4 people to be aboard. All of those details matter. I digress, though.

We’re cruising on Mischief this winter, a little more rustic living than on Calypso despite being the identical hull. There are a few projects we didn’t do because we weren’t sure we would keep the boat - no point in putting even more money into it - and a few projects that we haven’t gotten to yet, both of which affect the storage equation. The biggest issue is that the fridge (a plug in cooler-style box borrowed from Calypso) lives in the quarterberth along with a few other project odds and ends; we roll up the cushion and tuck it deep in the space. (Mischief has a wonderfully large ice box, complete with well-ventilated plexiglass dividers that are meant to separate blocks of ice from the food. It’s being used as a massive pantry for coffee and Ritz crackers and other snacks. Someday we’ll install refrigeration in that space. For now, though, we just borrowed the fridge from Calypso. Schlepping blocks of ice is not in the cards, nor is going without refrigeration.

A couple of months ago, our son, Julian, asked if he could bring his girlfriend, Jules, along for the holiday. We reminded him that it’s tight quarters with 4, that we only have bunks for 4. After checking with our daughter, Bee, to make sure they were okay with the thought, the decision was made. We’d be a boat of five for Christmas. 

The biggest concerns were sleeping, storage, and privacy. We stressed the need for efficient packing in soft bags only (no rolly bags allowed). We provided sheets and towels (Marmara Imports Turkish towels take up almost no room aboard and dry in a flash) but asked the kids to bring pillows. The head space, with its relatively generous footprint and (critically) a curtain that can be pulled shut, would serve variously as head and changing room. And then we transformed the quarterberth from garage to bunk.

The fridge moved to a space on the floor, right next to the galley. Jeremy took the opportunity to reconfigure storage space in the forepeak to hold the project materials that were living in the quarterberth. And fairly easily the quarterberth was a cozy bunk, though limited in ventilation. Fans are another of those “not yet done” projects. Okay, we’re now capable of sleeping 4 people on actual cushions. What about the 5th person?

Initially Julian figured he’d be sleeping in a hammock on deck. Given the fact that it rained every single night the kids were aboard, it’s really good that idea never got traction. Instead, we rolled out a camping mat into the narrow space on the starboard salon floor, he used the onboard sleeping bag as his bedding, and the main cabin was, quite literally, wall-to-wall (hull-to-hull?) beds.

There’s a bit of a “get ready for bed” dance that happens on board even when it’s just Jeremy and me. Making up our bunk involves pulling out the slider board and moving the cushion from the port side settee, then dealing with sheets. There’s not a whole lot of excess space while that’s going on. Meanwhile, I’m finishing up dinner dishes, drying and putting away some of them while allowing others to air dry overnight. There’s head time, tooth brushing time. Mind you, there’s only one sink on the boat so there are a lot of competing interests for that commodity. 

Now multiply those competing interests by 2.5. And unlike in the morning, when people are moving at different speeds, at night all those things are happening for all those people all at the same time.

We made it work.

Figuring out the order of events took a day or two. Make our bed, make Bee’s bed (their bedding was tucked away each morning, turning the settee from bed into couch), THEN make Julian’s bed after everyone’s done in the head for the evening. Use the head and change into PJs maybe before brushing teeth, maybe after.

In the morning, we’d get up before the kids did. Julian slid into our bunk as soon as we vacated it and Jules would join him for a fan-cooled snuggle. We’d do coffee in the cockpit and check weather only via the internet as opposed to first via radio. The kids would join us as they stirred; I’d start breakfast once everyone was up. We’d put beds away, tidy up, do dishes. Let the day begin!

Day 1 (Dec 21). Marsh Harbour to Matt Lowe’s Cay. The kids arrived all together around noon, exhausted and hungry but happy to be aboard. Bags tumbled below, I served lunch, and then, one by one, they slipped below for naps. We pulled up the anchor and motored the 5 miles to Matt Lowe’s Cay, anchoring off of a crazy development of massive houses crammed close together, construction vehicles beeping industriously as swarms of neon-t-shirted men worked on rooftops. 

Day 2. Matt Lowe’s Cay to Hope Town. After breakfast, we pulled up the anchor (Julian helping flake chain into the locker while Bee worked the windlass) and raised sail to head to Hope Town. The initial leg was an upwind one that included a couple of dolphins; once we’d cleared the shoal at Man O War, we cracked off and reached down to Elbow Cay, where we ended up anchoring just outside the harbor at Hope Town.

We’d realized that we didn’t have a lot of days to do any “town” things like renting a golf cart or climbing the lighthouse - Sunday, Christmas, and Boxing Day would not likely involve anything remotely commercial. Friday afternoon and Saturday would be our chance!

Golf carts were in extremely short supply in Hope Town. As in, exactly ONE was available. At the full daily rate even though it was 2 pm and we’d have to have it back by 5. No thanks. We opted for bikes.

If anyone tells you Elbow Cay is flat don’t believe them.

We rode to the southern tip of the island on Friday afternoon. The quest? Recreating a favorite photo from when we’d cruised the Abacos back in 2009. Success!

Day 3. Hope Town to Tahiti Beach. In the morning, we headed back into town to check out the farmer’s market, ride the bikes to the northern end of the island, and climb the famous and iconic red-and-white-striped Elbow Reef lighthouse, the last kerosene burning lighthouse in the world. And then we went back to the boat, picked up the hook, and had a lovely sail down to Tahiti Beach for some beach time.

(The weather was not amazing. It was largely grey and overcast, with temperatures in the high 60s or low 70s. Swimming wasn’t high on the priority list as the blustery wind made it feel pretty chilly.)

Day 4. Christmas Eve day! We sailed up to Man O War in the morning and picked up a mooring in the harbor. Winds were forecast to shift and pick up from a direction that was hard to find shelter from, so the harbor was a good option. Jeremy set the sailing rig up on the dinghy and everyone took a turn or two. Meanwhile, food prep happened in earnest down below. 

Our Christmas Eve dinner is traditionally lots of nibbles, with Bee’s homemade dumplings as the star attraction. I also made hummus and Thai spring rolls (bring on ALL the flavors!), plus we had a spread of nuts, olives, crackers, sausage, and cheese.

Nobody went hungry.

Day 5. Christmas Day! We’d been invited to the local gathering on the island, so in we went at 9 am. I was worried we’d be late so rushed the Christmas sticky bun preparation - I apparently forgot about island time. At 9:15, as we walked to the basketball court where the gathering was to take place, we were passed by at least 4 golf carts and joined a couple of dozen people walking. No worries about finding the spot.

It’s a Christmas morning tradition that reportedly is over 80 years old. Most everyone on the island gathers at the basketball court, with all the golf carts parked in random fashion next door (and down the street, and further down the street). There’s a little history lesson, a sermon or two, maybe some more history woven in. Some singing. Santa comes to delight the kids. There’s coffee and juice and food of all kinds, and just a lovely feeling of community all around. It was a wonderful way to start the day.

We came back for sticky buns (our Christmas morning tradition). Julian and Jules went snorkeling, Jeremy and Bee took the dinghy out sailing. And by 3 pm we were headed into the island for Christmas dinner with cruising friends Brian and Lizzi (and Lizzi’s family,) who had rented a house with plenty of space (and showers!) for all. 

Day 6. Last full day with the kids. It was a rainy one, not conducive for any kind of activity at all. But between weather and flight schedules the next day, we decided to set sail back to Marsh Harbour. Despite the rain, it was a good sail, and once the hook was down the game playing commenced. Bananagrams, cards, Settlers of Catan. The rain pounded down hard enough that Julian and Jules almost went on deck in bathing suits to take showers; by the time they’d finished one more hand of cards, the rain was done. And the stars came out. Finally, a night without the need to jump up to close the hatches!

Day 7. December 27. Bright sunshine (of course) on the last morning. We rented a car to take the kids to the airport and do errands. Their flight was originally scheduled for 2:20, which gave us time to get some conch fritters at a little restaurant down the way. By 1:30 pm, we’d dropped them off at the airport with hugs and a few tears. By 2 am, after a lack-of-staffing delay at customs in Charlotte that threatened connections, all three of them were home in their own beds.

It’s a little quiet aboard. A little more spacious. We miss them terribly and are so happy they all came!

Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t sleep 5 people on a BCC!

PS. I mentioned privacy only briefly earlier. Here’s how we prefaced it in a “welcome aboard” letter sent in early December. “As far as the privacy thing goes, audio privacy on board is almost non-existent. We do a lot of pretending we don’t hear things. Visual privacy is often the best we can do; there’s a curtain separating the main salon from the head (toilet), for example, but we all generally make sure to be on deck when someone lets us know they need to poop. (We call it “head time.”) “