I Chose The Nomadic Life Before I Turned 18

I remember being on a little mother—daughter getaway when we came across a marina selling boats.

If there was anything new, we always had to go take a peek. So we strolled on down to the marina and spoke to a lady standing next to the sailboat. She happily explained everything about everything — this boat was more of a weekend sailor, only for staying near the land — not going on big ocean crossings; it would be hard to live on, but for a night or two, it would be lovely.

My mum thanked the lady, and we went on with our day.

My mum didn’t stop talking about sailing after that. How cool would it be to live on a boat and do an ocean crossing?

I was used to my mum talking a big game at this point and it was always fun to imagine what life could be.

Then she bought a boat.

Actually, I was again with her at the time — maybe I’m the bad influence?

She saw a boat fit for ocean crossings this time. A beautiful big boat that had been modified by the owner himself, the owner had also done many ocean crossings on this vessel — New Zealand to Fiji and back. The boat had also been all around Europe.

As someone who likes to tinker, my mum loved the idea of making modifications herself.

So she bought the boat. There and then.

To everyone’s surprise.

She then asked me if I wanted to live on board with her. Without a second hesitation, I said “Duh!”

So we moved on board. Neither of us knew how to sail a boat or motor a boat or anything a boat. So for three months, we lived in a marina.

I think my fondest memories were there, we met a lot of people who also lived in the marina, we were close enough to home we could drive back and I could see my friends. Every day we would walk up to the café, eat a brownie and play cards. Life was bliss.

I do remember my mum and I fell into a funny dynamic — she loved to tinker and deal with the gas tank, and dingy and other stuff I didn’t care about. I liked to cook and clean and make the place look pretty. And thus, dreams of housewifery were born. Not the trad-wife kind, just the ‘that could be nice’ kind.

I remember feeding birds off the back of the boat, having them swarm as I threw the bread. Settling in for the night to watch an episode of Gilmore Girls. And then working on my school work — I was doing a course in professional writing. I’m not bad at writing emails these days.

One day we decided it was time to learn some new skills and we enlisted one of my brother’s friends and his dad to teach us how to move our new home.

I will admit, I lost all interest in boat life at this point. But I’ll explain why.

We enlisted the help of a racer, a night sailor, and a cruiser. But mostly the first two things. So we decided to sail overnight to an island. I fell asleep — outside though, so I was basically still helping. And I woke up with the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life — punishment for not helping.

That night was a turning point; my mum learned everything she needed to know, and I learned I was not a sailor at heart.

Living life at anchor was a glorious experience, swimming every day — an hourly scientific experiment of how high I could make the splash with my Manu and how clean I could dive into the water. School was fun.

I was 16, it was perfectly legal for me not to do school anymore.

Three months of sailing island to island, learning about gusts, and currents, reading maps — sailing maps, totally different from road maps, sharks and being okay with them in the water, sitting on a row boat with dolphins splashing around — no, it wasn’t cool, it was downright terrifying!

Finding remote spots on islands made only for sailors. Learning some people sailed to live a nomadic lifestyle, some loved being on the water, some it was all they could afford, and some had gin palaces.

Three months of that and I was ready to return home. Back to my friends, even the classroom, and go back to being a kid. As soon as the world returned to school I wanted to go back too. I wanted to see my friends and be part of that world again.

But boy, did I return with an attitude.