Medical Care - El Salvadorian Style

Current Location:  San Mateo, CA

Fall is here and are counting down the days for our return to El Salvador and back to our sailboat, Knee Deep.  We have tentative plans to be in Costa Rica for Thanksgiving, Panama for Christmas and through the Panama Canal in January.  'Tentative' being the key word....a cruiser's life is always flexible!

As promised here is a look back at another experience while in El Salvador…

Flashback #2 – Living in El Salvador; A Trip to the Medical Clinic

I’ll be honest, I really liked going to the doctor up until I was about 9 years old.  It was all about the cool toys in the waiting room, my mom reading aloud Mrs. Piggle Wiggle books while I lay in her lap and the vanilla milkshake I received afterwards.  But following my emergency appendectomy, it never really was the same.  Doctors were now people associated with hospitals, operations and I.V.’s.

This worked out just fine considering my father’s philosophy on medical attention. You only needed to go if limbs were hanging precariously from your body or there was a loss of consciousness.  Considering we were a family of eight and he worked two jobs, it was not a plausible option to cart six children back and forth to the doctor. I have memories of coming home with contorted fingers and bloody cuts on my legs only to be shuffled into the bathroom where the triage would begin. As a result I grew up believing duct tape, rubber bands and popsicle sticks were the standard in first aid.

My favorite memory is when I came home from a soccer game with two particularly bloody wide open gashes on my shin (I wasn’t wearing shin guards because…well, shin guards were for pansies…have I mentioned I have three older brothers?). My dad took one look at me and said, “I think we’ll need to go see Mich for this one.”

At his point you are assuming Mich Michelin is the doctor who resides in the neighborhood and you would be absolutely……...wrong! He was actually the Italian father of three down the street and a sheet metal worker by trade, however, he was the Boy Scout troop leader and he must know something about deep cuts bleeding profusely, right? So I hobbled towards his house and anticipated the expert medical care I was about to receive.

Fortunately, Mich didn’t have other patients that day and I was seen right away. After some head scratching and mumbling, it was decided the course of treatment would be a butterfly bandage. Needless to say, I still have two deep scars prominently displayed on my right shin, but I did not bleed to death and my soccer career continued without a hitch. This is what the youngest of six children can only hope for, so you don’t put up a stink about seeing a “real” doctor instead of Mich Michelin.

So as my ear began to hurt during our stay in El Salvador, I dismissed it as a minor issue and assumed it would clear up on its own. After several days, I had a throbbing ache in my right ear, lost my ability to hear and had trouble walking a straight line.  Ben frivolously suggested seeing a doctor. It did not take long to convince me this was a good idea and once the decision was made, I instantly turned into a babbling nine year old, asking him if he would take me so I didn’t have to go by myself. I did not, however, insist he read me a Mrs. Piggle Wiggle book. 

After dropping our kids off at our friend’s boat, off we went at 7:30 in the morning to catch a bus to the “Clinicia de Zapote”, which apparently was just down the road. As we left the marina, we found a taxi sitting at the entrance. He assured us he knew where it was, yet stopped to holler at the security guard asking him in Spanish, “Where is the clinic?”

After driving past it a few times, we reached our destination which concluded with us flying down the two lane highway for a ½ mile in REVERSE. Apparently there were too many cows in the road to do a U-turn so this was the only practical option.  We thanked the transportation Gods once again for our safe arrival (not a foregone conclusion when traveling on buses or cabs in El Salvador).

We entered a fenced in yard with a beautiful garden and walked towards a cinderblock and concrete structure. Approaching the entrance, we were met with the friendly, “Buena” and a genuine smile, which is the norm here in El Salvador. People were quietly waiting in plastic chairs bolted to the ground in the open air clinic.  Over and over again in El Salvador, I observed that people have infinite patience about waiting, whether for the next bus or necessary medical care.  Maybe it’s that they take nothing for granted as they are a country in a lingering hangover of a civil war.  After watching your family and friends being dragged away or killed in battle, waiting in line for groceries or for the doctor just isn’t a big deal.  This is only a personal conclusion I’ve come to, perhaps as a culture they were this way before. I can’t be sure since I have never stepped foot in El Salvador until now. Living here has provided me with insights about my own feelings of entitlement and how to be more appreciative of my life.

So the two gringos walked through the door (sounds like the beginning of bad joke) and were met with collective stares which we have grown used to. We engaged in conversation with the clerical staff, which after a game of half English, half Spanish coupled with charades, informed us the doctor was not in today. He would be back tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. To be clear I inquired again, “Sabado? Siete en la manana?” (Saturday? At 7 in the morning?).

A smile and nod confirmed that this was the case. After reading the hand painted signs on the walls, I deducted that most people were seeking dental attention on this Friday.  Baffled that a medical doctor would be holding examinations at 7 in the morning on a Saturday, we hopped on the bus back to the marina.

I awoke bright and early the next morning and hopped back on the bus at 7:00 a.m. By the time I arrived, there were already 20 – 30 people waiting to be seen. I spoke with the same clerical staff that showed infinite patience with me as I fumbled my way through the paperwork. Finally, the woman looked at me kindly and took the paper from me since I was unable to understand most of the questions. The doctor appeared and helped me fill out some of it, with the whole episode ending with the papers mostly incomplete. They looked at me, smiled and shrugged their shoulders, saying in Spanish, “You can go sit in a chair and wait to see the doctor”.

I made my way tentatively to one of the plastic chairs and took in my surroundings. Not a boutique office by any means, but it was clean and I was confident they couldn’t screw up my ear more than it already was. I noticed the armed guard standing at one of the rear exits, a familiar sight in El Salvador.

Apparently after the war, this was one way to employ the many men who had been trained as soldiers (a good part of the male population). We soon discovered this has continued as an economic strategy, not because there was danger around every corner. Upon closer observation, we saw most of the security guards’ weapons are old American automatic guns that are rusted through and contain no ammunition. I must admit it was intimidating at first.  While shopping at the El Salvadorian equivalent of Costco, it can be unsettling seeing a 30 foot guard tower looming in the parking lot, with a gun toting man’s silhouette. However, it’s interesting how quickly we became accustom to this. The security guard at the fabric store actually helped me carry my bags to the van.

So as I sat in the waiting room next to a father holding his feverish daughter, I did not give the armed security guard a second thought. After 30 minutes I was called over to have my blood pressure and temperature taken.  There was no fancy forehead scanning thermometer, just a simple mercury stick I knew as a child and was told in Spanish to put in under my tongue. I chuckled as I waited and waited for the nurse to return, until I remembered that these things took a long time to work. After all my vitals were taken and documented, I returned to my seat.

Soon afterwards, I was called into the examination room which was clean, but sparse. No magazines, televisions or fancy whiteboards for kids to draw on while waiting for their turn, just a chair, a desk and an examination table.  The doctor, who was about 30 years old, smiled and the conversation/charades began.  Communication was further hindered by my inability to hear out of my left ear.  Fortunately, I came equipped with my Spanish dictionary and a list of medical terms given to me by our friend Ann.  I passed the time during the bus trips and in the waiting room, practicing what I would say and surprisingly it translated well enough. Upon further conversation, I learned that the doctor did speak some English, but was embarrassed about speaking it.  I completely understood this, having spent the last six months bumbling my way through the Spanish language.

As he reached for the lighted ear examination thingy (sorry don’t know the technical term), he signaled for me to come closer since it was hard wired into the wall.  He started to place it in my ear, when suddenly he pulled it back and started banging it into his palm to get the light working. In broken English, he said almost apologetically “sometime it work, sometime not so good.”

We both chuckled and shrugged as he gave it another try.  This time he was successful and confidently diagnosed me with an outer ear infection. I was then told to return to the waiting room.  Curious as to what the next step was, and a bit confused of how this all worked, I sat back in my plastic chair waiting as he examined more people. After 20 minutes the doctor called me back in and wrote some notes on a piece of paper, directing me to go to the pharmacy to get medication. We shook hands and I thanked him profusely.  As he was about to call his next patient, I asked him where the closest pharmacy was.  He smiled….one of those, “oh, poblecita” smiles……..walked me across the room to a window and pointed to a sign, “Pharmacia”.

This consisted of a plexi glass window with a hole cut in the middle and a metal folding chair on the other side.  Soon one of the clerks came over and asked for my paper. She opened the door to the room which consisted of concrete walls and metal shelving with boxes of antibiotics, ibuprofen and other things I couldn’t quite translate.  You see in El Salvador and Mexico a prescription is not required for antibiotics, high dosage Ibuprofen, some sleeping pills and pain killers.  On a single bus ride, a person can buy a week’s worth of Cipro and some darn good pain killers along with some pupusas and a mango on a stick. I’m not exaggerating.  Vendors hop on and off at bustops selling all sorts of products.

 

This is the only pic we have of a bus vendor. This particular guy was selling fresh cut fruit.

 

Mickey enjoys his 5 cent watermelon slice. You can just spit the seeds out the window...how cool!

 

 

So to be honest, I was not surprised that the clerk from the office was doling out my antibiotic ear drops and a butt load of high dosage Ibuprofen. Instead I thought, “Damn, I love this country!”  After loading up on my meds, I shuffled over to the office once again and asked how much I owed.  The woman in the office looked at me, quite baffled by my question and said, “nada”.

Confused I repeated again and showed them my money. She giggled and said, “No, no, no. Nada.” 

I then tried to offer up a contribution of a measly $10 which she vehemently refused. So here I was in a 3^rd world country, living on a sailboat using their government funded health care system and there was no monetary compensation they would accept (and probably thought I was bribing them in some sort of manner). So with a respectful nod to Miss Manners ….I sat back down in the hard plastic chair and wrote a thank you note in Spanish.  Using my dictionary, I cobbled together a note expressing my appreciation.  It was the only thing I could think to do. 

When the doctor appeared again, I handed over the simple note feeling like a little school girl.  As I was apologizing for the mistakes, he looked up with a surprised look in his eye and thanked me.  

So I hopped back on the bus and returned to the marina with my new stash of meds. When I got back, I immediately googled the antibiotics given to me and this is what I discovered:

“It is considered a prototypical broad-spectrum antibiotic, and as it is both cheap and easy to manufacture it is frequently an antibiotic of choice in the Third World…….. Due to resistance and safety concerns, it is no longer a first-line agent for any infection in developed nations…. Nevertheless, the global problem of advancing bacterial resistance to newer drugs has led to renewed interest in its use”

So there you have it, a good old fashioned, no frills antibiotic and my experience with a third world government funded health care was a positive one.  From the other cruisers I have talked to, this has been the typical encounter.  Within two days my ear was on the mend and I had regained the ability to hear all the frat brothers on the Floating Frat House.  Then again, maybe I should have held out a few more days!

Cheers,

Molly

 

The guard tower at the El Salvadorian Costco

 

 

Surpsingly the bus vendors don't sell these.....only in the store. Fifth roommate on the Floating Frat House?? I think NOT!!!

 

 

 

 

                                        

 

 

Glimpse of Daily Life - El Salvador

Current Location: San Mateo, CA

We are still happily enjoying land life here in California, but are currently planning our return to El Salvador. A target date has been set for the end of September when we will reunite with our boat, Knee Deep and prepare the old girl to set sail once again. In the meantime, here is a flashback to our
El Salvadorian life….

Flashback #1 – Glimpse of Daily Life - Costa del Sol, El Salvador in the Jaltepeque Estuary

As I sit here in the open air refuge of the Bahia del Sol hotel patio, looking out over the estuary at our sailboat, Knee Deep, I’m excited that yet another exotic place has become my home for a short time. As a kid, I resided in the same house my whole life, went to the same schools, had two parents that stayed together for 55 years…it was the model of stability and love which I found very comforting and shaped who I am today.

When we left on this cruising adventure, I wasn’t quite sure how myself, or my children, would acclimate to changing locations so frequently. Although always a lover of travel, I had never lived anywhere outside California. Yet just as I had suspected, living this nomadic life, our family has learned that home is truly where the heart is. Wait, scratch that!! I hate it when I assume what others are thinking or feeling.

"Home is where the heart is”. It is what I, myself, have learned.

This is how our children replied to the inquiry, “How do you feel about our home being on sailboat and the fact that we don’t live in a house like we used to?”

J.P. - “It kinda feels not very normal, but it feels pretty good, because we can go places whenever we want.”

Mickey - “I kinda feel special because almost no other kids get to do this.”

Before you accuse me of leading my witnesses, let me disclose that hidden among these answers are, indeed, some regrets of life on board. For instance, J.P.’s desire to have a pet of any kind is an on-going point of contention. Always the negotiator he is continually attempting to finagle a creature on board, even suggesting that we have a pet ant which wouldn’t take up much room and “dropping an apple in its tiny cage would feed him for like a year!!”. As a result of his love of animals, he has started a pet sitting business in El Salvador and has been getting paid to care for other cruiser’s cats while they travel inland.

Mickey’s passion for playing organized sports or baseball of any kind has also fallen by the wayside for a bit. To temporarily quench his baseball thirst, we have downloaded the MLB app on his IPod Touch where he can listen to Kruk and Kuip call Giant’s games while dangling his feet in El Salvadorian waters. We have tried to bust out the bat, ball and glove, but boogie boarding and tossing a tennis ball around in the pool, seems to be more of a desirable option in the tropical heat.

But again, I digress…the point of this blog entry was to answer the question we hear a lot from friends and family at home, “What do you do all day?” Let me forewarn you, it’s not as exciting or exotic as you may think. Most of our time is spent doing maintenance on the boat and homeschooling, but if you would like a glimpse, here you go.  Keep in mind this is life while living in one place for an extended stay like we did in Bahia del Sol, El Salvador and La Cruz, Mexico. When we are on the move, it can be quite different.

I usually awaken in the morning when the sweat starts to roll off my forehead, a new kind of alarm since we have no need for a standard clock radio. It should be noted that our fellow cruisers tease us about how late the captain and crew of Knee Deep start their day (around 9:00 a.m.). We counter with the explanation that nighttime is the only kid-free period Ben and I get, but it’s just an excuse, we have always been night owls.

The boys forage for their breakfast, which most mornings is a bowl of cereal or pancakes made by Mickey. Ben and I have learned to suppress our groans as he announces he will be cooking in the galley (a.k.a kitchen). It’s hot, and turning on the stove doesn’t help, but his enthusiasm for cooking is inspiring so we roll with it most mornings. I think about making coffee, but dismiss the idea since it’s already too friggin’ hot and there is no ice to be found for iced coffee. I shove the daydream of the Starbucks drive-up window from my mind, and decide to start drinking water instead. The knife slicing caffeine headaches have subsided and for that I am grateful.

Making some pancakes! Mickey and J.P. love to have people over for breakfast!



We put up the bimini, a sunshade that covers the cockpit, to give us shelter from the sun and eat our breakfast sitting in the cockpit of our boat (a.k.a. patio). There is no equipment that can save us from the 80% humidity except for afternoon cold beers in the pool, which we reluctantly MUST do for our survival….wink-wink! You will be comforted to know, our children not of drinking age, order fresh squeezed orange juice instead of “cervezas”.  The view from our patio is gorgeous and instead of climbing in our cars to commute, we sit and wave to local El Salvadorians paddling by in their homemade canoes.

 

Local fisherman in their canoe paddle by every day.

A view from our cockpit (a.k.a. patio).



When there was a larger group of boats here, a morning net took place on the VHF radio (this also occurs at most other sailing anchorages and marinas). This consists of one person as “Net Controller” facilitating general announcements from the fleet, with topics such as; “Weather/Tide Reports”, “Mail Call” (people headed to the U.S. or Canada willing to bring mail back), “Lost and Found”, and my all time favorite, “Social Activities”. This can range from bocce ball or bonfires on the beach to the local town’s holiday parade celebration.

My other favorite is “Treasures of the Bilge” which consists of sailboats announcing things they no longer need and want to purge from their boat. It’s the equivalent of a garage sale for you house dwellers, but we cruisers, have no cars, therefore, no garage. The term comes from the fact that we are quite creative in where we store things due to limited space. Items can be stored in the bilge, a compartment under the floorboards of the sailboat. We are unable to legally buy and sell things from each other in Mexico and El Salvador so we trade or sell them for “coconuts”.

For example, back in La Paz, MX, great treasures were discovered after Mickey and J.P. announced over the Net  they were looking to trade some of  their Nintendo DS games for different ones.  A teenager from another boat quickly answered and we later met up for the exchange.  She also had grown tired of the same DS games and was looking for new ones. Everyone was excited about the swap and new friends were made!

 

This is the reaction Mrs. Doolittle usually gets when the school begins!

 

 

After breakfast, Ben begins his daily list of maintenance items which could be anything from jumping in the water to scrub the algae off the boat bottom to investigating why our battery bank is not charging to capacity. The latter project has had him quite perplexed and many hours have been spent scratching his head, consulting with other cruisers (inevitably over a cold beer) and doing diagnostic tests. Unlike home, where we can luxuriously plug in with no thought of electrical consumption, living aboard a boat requires a more conservationist approach. If we are anchored out, electricity is supplied by our solar panels and we use this to power our refrigerator, computers and lights during the evening hours.

As Ben putters about the boat, the cranky old school marme, Mrs. Doolittle, announces school is in session and we gather around the table in the salon (a.k.a. living room). If this is the case, school inevitably bleeds over into the boat projects Ben is currently working on. For instance, developing a new design for lifting the dinghy onto the boat required a couple of assistant engineers like Mickey and J.P. to figure out an efficient pulley system. On hotter days, we will take the dinghy to shore and have school by the pool or in any air-conditioned room we can find (they are hard to come by).

After lunch of sandwiches, fruit and more water (hydrate, hydrate, hydrate) in the cockpit, the boys have some free time to play, swim or play on their IPods. By mid to late afternoon, the temperature and humidity has started to reach its peak and we launch the dinghy and head to shore to cool off in the pool (the estuary is not good for swimming).  Ben and I will take turns at the computer, checking e-mails for the business, doing research for boat parts and keeping in touch with family and friends. The boys have scurried off to play with their friends from other sailboats.

 

Our office at Bahia del Sol!

 

A view of the volcano from our boat.

On most days as I hunch over our laptop, I can hear the locals working on boats blasting an eclectic mix of music. As the radio station plays WHAM’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go”, Katie Perry’s “This Friday Night” and amazingly enough, Ray Parker Jr.’s “Ghostbusters”, I pull my head up and chuckle distracted by the thoughts buzzing through my brain,

“Where am I?”
“Did I just go through a time warp?”
“Is this where the screenplay writers of movie, The Hot Tub Time Machine got their idea?”

Our office has no cubicles, just random music, a swimming pool and $1 beers. Not much to complain about here! After closing the office, we jump in the pool and enjoy happy hour with our fellow cruisers chatting about our next destination, which bus is best to get to San Salvador, wagering if it will rain that night, and other random topics we cruisers can spend hours mulling over.

 

Cruiser's happy hour by the pool. Many world problems are solved here!

 

This is our access to local t.v.  Good for watching soccer matches and the occasional MLB game....sometimes the local lizards like to watch too!

 



It should be noted that this day does not include tasks like provisioning. A trip to the grocery store can be an all day affair! In addition, during the El Salvador Rally, there were on-going planned events like pupusa making, wine tasting, net fishing lessons and holiday events like the Easter Deviled Egg contest which Ben won with his “secret bacon recipe”. Time is also filled with inland travel to see El Salvador in addition to exploring the estuary in our dinghy.

Dinner consists of barbecuing on the boat, walking to the nearest pupusa stand for a 75 cent meal or enjoying a more expensive dinner at the hotel (cheeseburger, fries, salad and dessert for $5…and did I mention the beers were a $1?). As darkness falls, we hop back in our dinghy and putter out to our floating home.

An evening dinghy ride back to the boat....I think J.P. had a good day!

 

Back onboard, the fans are immediately turned on to cool off the interior and the boys snuggle up in their beds to read. Ben and I enjoy the light breeze up in the cockpit until we are chased inside by the nibbling bugs. On some nights we watch the lightening show and cool off in the tropical rain, instead of watching a movie on the laptop or reading our latest book.

Tomorrow it will all start again, another day in paradise!! However, after a few weeks I awoke one morning, rolled over and said to Ben, “I’m bored.”

Perhaps it is one of the side effects of cruising, but more importantly it is a sign that it is time to get moving again. Next up…my visit to an El Salvadorian Health Clinic.

Cheers, Molly

The nightly of thunder and lightening show seen from the cockpit of our boat!

Ben here, catching up......

We are up in the mountains for a few days. It gives me a bit of time to catch up on some of this blogging. Here are a few pictures from the last few months of cruising before we came back to the good ol' US.

Here, Molly shows what she learned at the tour of the El Salvadorian history/war museum......Gals and Guns; ALWAYS Cool!!!

An afternoon volleyball game at the Hotel Bahia del Sol pool:

 Here is Zac from Panache in his natural environment....plugging away on the internet. This ballsy guy is currently sailing across the Pacific on his Catalina 30!!!!

Aaron w/ the money shot.

Zac and Aaron are two of the neatest guys I met while cruising. On a bus trip at one point to San Salvador, as the bus filled to max capacity, I got seperated from Mickey. He had been pushed forward up the central isle of the bus. However, I quickly realised that Aaron was standing right behind him w/ a hand on his shoulder. It was awesome to know my kids were so safe travelling along w/ friends like these guys. It didn't hurt that both are about as mature as 10 year olds!

Here is Nicole, Aaron's better half, and some insane foliage:

JP stepping out in the rainforest:

Not sure why I needed to put this......full disclosure?......we don't always travel first class!

Everyone asks about the dangers. Our biggest "scare" was the micro-burst. Here are the boys right after. I think the adreneline had not yet completely vacated our systems.

The ORIGINAL Tree Of Life.....2000 BC, or thereabouts.

AND, never forget, the FORCE is EVERYWHERE!!!

catching up w/ some pictures....

It seems like time I (Ben) speak up here.....but a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are some of my favorites:

LIVE LIFE, GO SAILING.....says it all

Here is Mickey, book, i-Pod touch, and a big comfy bed:

Views I will never get tired of:

The boat denaming/renaming ceremony drew a big crowd. Here we are singing Jimmy Buffet's "Knee Deep" to the crowd:

WHO's driving?? DAMN she looks good on the wheel!

To date, my favorite picture of the crew:

13.65 knots across the bar......FAST for our boat!!

My wise JP....I love this shot.....can you just SEE the Yoda-like wisdom?

There are a number more I want to get to, but it'll need to wait for another post.........

Home For the Summer

Current location: Twain Harte, CA (and various other locations in California)

A couple of months ago we left our beloved Knee Deep on a mooring ball in El Salvador and have spent the past several weeks acclimating to life on land. Take heart, this is only a summer visit and we plan to return in September, sailing south to Costa Rica, Panama and through the Canal to the Caribbean. I apologize for the extended absence in blog entries, but it appears cable television, unlimited Wi-Fi and other land luxuries, which we live without on the Floating Frat House, have squired away my attentions.

It’s been an extremely exciting, difficult and joyful transition. For instance, we realized behavior modifications were required in order to be accepted back into “normal” society. Unable to wear our bathing suits and go barefoot every day, we wear regular clothes and slip on close toed shoes, tormenting our unsuspecting tanned and calloused feet. We actually shower indoors EVERY day with steamy, hot water, instead of hopping off the boat for a swim and a scrub, then quickly rinsing off in the cockpit shower.


You may remember in a previous blog where I wrote about J.P. loudly complaining in a public place, “But mom, why do I have to shower tonight? I showered 5 days ago.” Ugh….Mother of the Year will have to wait for another time. In my defense, while living in the hot, humid, tropics aboard a sailboat, the thought of a warm shower inside our boat, is not at all appealing or practical.


Another difference I noticed immediately, was that life moves fast here. I hadn’t realized how much we had adapted to the slower pace of life as cruisers in Central America. On our second day here, my son Mickey and I ventured off to Trader Joes to provision for all of our favorites which we missed while living other countries. I pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street, when he turns to me and says, “Why are you driving so slow?”


I was maneuvering down the road like a 90 year old, with my sweaty hands vice gripping the steering wheel at positions 10 and 2 o’clock. I hadn’t driven a car in nine months and spent most of that time traveling on a vehicle that goes an average of 5 m.p.h. (on a good day!).

Upon entering the store both of us just stood there as people whizzed by with shopping carts. They were in a hurry. Somehow we managed to fill our cart and get to the checkout stand without incident, although I’m sure we annoyed quite a few customers with the constant stopping and staring at shelves.

As a side note…..I swear the heavens opened up and angels sang as I approached the wine and chocolate aisles. It had been a while since I had quality samples of either!

Our younger son, J.P. found the transition to a fast paced life challenging as well. Both he and Mickey returned to their old school where they visited with friends and former teachers. It was an amazing day and they were greeted with open arms and excitement. They boys were tickled that they had not been forgotten and it was wonderful for them to play a round of four square on the playground with some old pals.

After we got home, I found J.P. sitting on his bed, sobbing. When I asked him what was wrong, he replied through tears, “There was a lot going on today!! All the people…..and it was all going so fast!!”

I refrained from a snarky comment like, “Well, I guess that old Mrs. Doolittle boat school doesn’t seem so bad now, does it??” Instead, I gave him a big hug and conceded that I was feeling the same way.

Also upon our return to the U.S., outdoor life and our connection to nature has gone by the wayside. On many occasions, I have found myself longingly looking at the moon outside our bedroom window and shocked to see that it is full and bright. I quickly wonder why I hadn’t even looked up at the sky recently. Guaranteed I would have known the phase of the moon if I were aboard our boat. One of my favorite things is to be sailing at night with “la luna grande” to light our way which also illuminates our dolphin pals as they swim alongside us.

Life on the water warrants close attention be paid to Mother Nature or she’ll kick your butt. The captain and crew of Knee Deep know this because she’s opened a can of whoop ass on us on occasion (see former post “Microburst Mania”). Land living does not require this constantly, unless I’m going to a Giant’s game and debating between fleece vs. windbreaker…or both! Knowing weather patterns, wind speeds, moon phases, tides and swell heights are an imperative part of life on a sailboat. Strangely enough, I miss that! I tend to be a control freak about certain things which my husband will whole heartedly confirm. It can be so exhausting……can I get an “Amen, sistah!!”.

I am grateful that this life has taught me to let go, be more patient and that I can’t control everything. Mother Nature has her own plans on which I have no input. If she decides the weather will be 30 knot winds with 6 foot swells, well then we’ll just wait until the weather calms down, there’s nothing I can do about it.

However,there is an upside to this as well. Within a week of returning, I found myself laying in bed on a windy night, listening to it howl outside. My first reaction was to get out of bed and check the anchor. I smiled as I realized there was nothing to do be done. I didn’t have to be concerned that our anchor may drag or our home will float away. I was in a King size bed snuggled up under a warm blanket next to my husband. Life on land has some wonderfully simple pleasures.

Challenges aside, we have had a fantastic time visiting with family and friends.  Thank you to my father, Jerry, who has allowed us to move into his Bay Area house, with two little boys who have boundless energy and are constantly scuffing up his lawn while playing ball in the backyard.

J.P. loves having his own bedroom (a.k.a. walk in closet) and appreciates it, like only an eight year old who lives on a 38 foot sailboat can. Mickey is in his glory visiting his cousins and friends, in addition to attending Giant’s games with his equally fanatical mom. Ben has been hired as a sailing instructor and sails every weekend out of Pier 39 with eager students hanging on his every word. It is a delightful change from his sometimes ornery crew aboard Knee Deep. He returns home smiling and amazed that he is getting paid to do something he loves so much. We continue to run our medical insurance business and I hope to have a few articles published about our sailing adventures.

No doubt about it, life is indeed good for the Doolittles.

Friends offering house sitting opportunities have been a great way to give Papa a reprieve so we don’t wear out our welcome. We are also grateful to have a home to call our own, if for only a week or two at a time. During these house sitting stints, we have discovered that anything over 1,000 square feet can be both a luxury and a bit overwhelming. After a while we tend to huddle together in a family room…out of habit or comfort, I’m not sure. However, having our own sleep spaces has been a dream, mostly for Ben and I. The boys could care less.

I plan to take this opportunity while on land to catch up on our past travels in El Salvador, Mexico and reflect on life aboard the floating frat house. During our 3,000+ miles of sailing, I didn’t have time to write everything I wanted, so I plan to spend the summer months reviewing my journal, finishing half written blog entries and exercising my writing muscles. I must admit, with access to more work out options on land, I tried to exercise my other muscles with a hip hop video...….it did not turn out well, I think I may need a doctor.

Stay tuned….next up Flashback to daily life in El Salvador, inland travel and a roach motel (literally!).

Check out some of our photos below (some may be repeats from other posts).

Cheers,
Molly

J.P. enjoying another sunset during a 3 day passage to Mazatlan.

We don't need no stinkin' shoes!!

Mickey reading his new Star Wars book while underway.

Mickey capturing a full moon!

Under way to La Paz with another full moon lighting the way.

The dinghy is our way of getting around while at anchor.

Back on land nine months without driving a car proved to be challenging for Molly.

The whole crew of Knee Deep enjoying another great day of sailing.

Tying up to the mooring ball in Bahia del Sol, El Salvador. Shirts (and underwear) are always optional for the male captain and crew of the Floating Frat House....house mother Molly usually opts for a top.

We got back to the U.S. just in time to witness Matt Cain's perfect game. We found the boys hiding in the hallway listening to the final innings. Devious little boys!!!

You can take the man out of the cheap sailing life, but you can't take the cheap sailing life out of the man!! One of our house sitting stints at our friend's house....needless to say the 5,000+ square feet was more than enough for us. And we classed up the place with some cheap beer drinking!

Another reason it was hard to temporarily leave our home aboard Knee Deep.

Sunsets like this every night, people!!!!

Memorial Day at the Giant's game with niece, Sally, Mickey, Molly, Auntie Co Co, Uncle K.J., Uncle Pat, Ben, J.P. and of course, teddy bear John!! Getting acustomed to the Bay Area coolness was an adjustment...and we had to borrow some jackets.

Molly and niece, Sally enjoying the cheap seats at AT&T Park. 

Also, to all our cruising friends...notice Molly's hair straight and unfrizzy.  It's hard to tame that beastly hair in the tropical heat!!!

 I really don't think they should allow these two to sit together at baseball games....

(in Sally's defense....Molly and K.J. made her do this.....great role models!)

J.P. loving his bedroom in the Papa's walk in closet.  When you share a v-berth with your older brother, it's the little things you learn to appreciate!!

Mickey has applied his pupusa making skills to baking homemade pizza.  This kid loves to cook!!

It should be noted that I took the photo first...reprimanded them after.....kinda.

You gotta love boys!!

The transition is complete.  Bathing suits for sweatshirts and cold orange juice for hot cocoa. Ben and the boys at Pier 39 in San Francisco.

 

Today Only - July 10th

Just for a moment I will digress from my sailing writings.....have no fear, I have a couple of posts coming soon about El Salvador.


My friend, colleague and fellow writer, Laura Hansen has written a wonderful book "Hand Me A Wrench; My Life Is Out of Whack". My favorite chapter is "You're Good....You're Ice Cream Good".


I helped Laura with her Wrench book launch party a while back. Now, I'm lending a hand (two actually) with the Wrench book promotion. She's shooting for #1 best seller on Amazon. com. Would you be willing to help by buying one or more books on Tuesday, July 10th?


She will be offering free video, audio, e-books and live coaching along with great offers from 22 of her colleagues - best selling authors, international speakers/coahces and master healers. Today (July 10th) is the only day these free gifts will be offerred. If Amazon says it is out of stock, don't worry they will have some more within a day or two.

Go to www.handmeawrench.com and follow the steps! Enjoy!!

Cheers! Molly