So living on-board a boat is hard enough but doing so without everything you packed to make it possible puts a different spin on things.
Yes I know Elliots promised our life of necessities would ship and arrive in Spain before we left for Croatia but they could hardly see Covid on the timeline.
So here we are. Minus my necessities. The amount of times I have questioned why we never packed an item into our single 23 kg bag has driven me crazy and the question of where is that, oh that’s right, in a container on its way to Spain while I am here on GypsyDjango does not help.
So 3.5 summer outfits, it means that my daily wardrobe choice is pretty much made up for me. It’s an easy choice.
Life certainly is different and quite refreshing in its simplicity. The things that have become critical to me are sunblock, bikini and moisturizer.
“ Oh and my favorite color hair rinse. And NO I am not old enough to become grey yet!“
Which brings me to the lighter side of life that I have discovered since becoming a live aboard.
I watch all these YouTube videos about survival on a boat but none of them have prepared me for certain eventualities.
The first one was when we were moored in a classically serene bay on anchor and woke up in the most perfect of days having floated past our anchor to a 2m depth where I could have reached down to touch the ground. My absolute heart attack at the time seems almost comical now when I reflect back. I thought about climbing in the water and trying to push the boat but that wasn’t going to work.
My second experience was when we sailed late and moored at sunset outside Primosten harbour in another beautiful bay - I am sure you are tired of hearing about these but it’s true- well we woke up to a fresh bright morning and went for an early morning run to discover when we returned we were moored facing a nudist beach with an unbelievable amount of naked bits. And let me tell you while my experience of these popular FKK beaches is minimal I have yet to see a body worthy of being flaunted. And the men love to stand having in depth chats with their legs poised on shared rocks with all comfortably on display.
“ Noo -I wasn’t staring - much 😊”
My next experience was when I decided among my limited outfits that today I would sail in a pretty dress and feel fancy. While sailing in comfortable winds I enjoyed my moment of glamour. However arriving in our bay late afternoon still wearing my dress was not as fancy. Running around the boat to tie up the shore lines with the dress blowing up above my waist while our fellow sailors (men and women) sat with a smirk, I felt pretty much like a novice. Lesson learned- shorts shorts shorts.
But in our two weeks, my best moment of humor while adapting to my new nomad life, has to be when I decided it was time to discreetly cover that grey on my head.
And as I do not have access to known brands, I was forced to buy the closest I could find to my standard color in an unknown brand. Let me explain that touring Croatia will give you amazing fresh food products, cheeses, cured meats, etc but when it comes to toiletries and beauty products you take what you can find. Maybe it’s because, with access to good wines and affordable alcohol, the Croatians have adopted the strategy of drinking you pretty instead? And when the color you want is only 2 euros you buy with caution worrying your hair will fall out.
So after my purchase the next quandary; blue black hair dye, no hair dressers on remote islands, absolutely no option to do this on the boat (as Kev will throw me overboard) - so where am I going to dye my hair?
Taking advantage of a two hour stop in a marina (we needed to get our fridge looked at) I left the men sweating over the repairs and grabbing my bag snuck off to the marina showers for a task of my own. With excitement I locked myself in a double shower cubicle to begin the procedure. However I soon realized why the hair rinse was so cheap - they decided to exclude the required bowl for mixing the components! Fortunately I was the only person in the bathroom at the time, so sneaking around I discovered that the cleaning lady had (kindly) left her supplies in the corner. Armed with a bin liner I retreated to my cubicle to try mix the color on the liner. Of course being me and messy by default I spread blue black hair dye on the wall. In panic I washed my gloves off, messing even more dye in the shower. Back to the cleaning ladies stash for her Handy Andy to clean the cubicle walls. In total guilt I abandon my cubicle for the shiny one next door, disposing of all evidence. Finally ready to start applying the black dye to my hair only to realise they don’t put mirrors in the shower cubicles. Who designed these things, clearly a male! Shutting my eyes in the vain hope that a greater sense of feel would lead to greater success, I proceeded to apply the colour to my shoulders, ears, face and even some of my hair. I spent the time waiting the required 20 minutes before rinsing off reflecting on how much easier life used to be.
Finally I start to wash the dye out and this blue black stained water proceeds to run out under the door of the shower and into the bathroom area. In panic that I am redecorating their tiles I am now butt naked under the streaming shower, on my hands and knees, trying to frantically “sweep” the water with my hands back into the shower and down the drain. Fortunately, still the only person in the bathroom, I sheepishly exit via the back door and hurry back to the yacht in shame having dyed not one, but two, cubicles a lovely shade of blueish-black. Running, laughing and possibly crying along the way.
At the end of the day we do what we do to maintain the fun and laughter which isn’t too difficult 😊 and I can laugh at myself over a cup of coffee.
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