One of the things about our living aboard this summer is that I would be working from the boat. This is a pretty good deal for me and for the most part it goes fairly smoothly. I can set up my ‘office’ right after breakfast - laying out laptop, printer, and assorted related paperwork and paraphernalia - and put in some quality time. I’m the business manager/bookkeeper/personal assistant for a local musician who is himself a boater. He has been extremely supportive, even during those check-in phone calls that are a bit broken up because the boat is swinging at anchor and I forget to move with it to keep in line with the nearest cell tower. Sometimes he’s on his boat, which means both of us spend a few frustrating minutes repeating what the other has said, listening to our own voices echo in the ether as we turn this way and that trying to find the optimal speaking area. Neither of us keep to any kind of office routine - we haven’t done that since March when COVID-19 forced us apart - so there will be quick phone calls at times convenient to both of us - early morning sometimes, after supper other times - and we make an attempt to have a regular phone-in time set aside twice a week.
Which means Dan and I have to be anchored somewhere with fairly reliable cell service at least twice a week, more often if I need to use my phone as a hot spot to have internet for my laptop. The availability and quality of cell service is now part of the daily cruising log, along with weather conditions, departure and arrival times, and the depth and placement of the anchor. We know, for instance, cell service in Pulpit Harbor is marginal at best, and that it’s a full four bars in the St. George River. Because my job entails retail sales, we are also tied to the USPS. I’ll say to Dan over breakfast as we loosely plan the day’s options, that today I’ll need good cell coverage, or that I will need to get to a post office. He’ll give a thoughtful nod and check the weather and then suggest a destination. So far the weather has cooperated with our needs.
Before this summer, our cruising was so loosely planned, we barely had destinations in mind. That used to be a joke on our schooner, when passengers on the Lewis R French would ask “Where are we going today?” “I don’t know.” Dan would reply, “Let’s see where the wind takes us.” At home, in the schooner office, I would give a vague answer to the same question posed by a potential passenger: “Our cruising grounds are between Bar Harbor and Boothbay Harbor, we don’t really set an itinerary.” We carried this attitude into our personal cruising. We would set off in a general direction and make a final decision only at the end of the day. No hassle, no pressure, no get-there-itis. This summer we’ve learned to compromise: heading that way but remember we need a post office or cell phone coverage at some point. I can get done whatever I need to do, and I’ve met some really nice people in the various one-manned post offices in the various small towns. I also have to remember to check their schedules when I look up their locations - many small post offices close for one or two hours in the middle of the day - another thing Dan and I have to factor into our schedule as we cruise. Sometimes the cell service isn’t as great as I’d like or the post office is a bit of hike from the town landing but it’s a small price to pay to be able to spend this summer on the boat.
Sunsets like these are one of the biggest perks of living aboard.
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