There are calm moments found aboard a sailboat that can’t be experienced anywhere else.
I’m a morning person, so I often wake with the sun. On a boat, it happens more smoothly then on land. I just kind of flow from sleep into wakefulness — purples and oranges gently streaming through the hatch, outlining the curves in my cabin.
Above board, oranges and yellows paint the walls. I tiptoe into the galley, flip the switch to get the gas flowing, fill the kettle, and spark a flame. As soon as I slide open the large glass doors to the aft of the boat, breeze pours in setting the fire to sputtering. Standing on the transom with water lightly lapping just below my feet, the sky to the west is still a deep shade of indigo.
Time slips away…
An urgent call from the kettle moves me back into the galley. Coffee is ground. Water is poured. The comforting smell of nutty, chocolatey, earthy goodness fills the interior.
Before long, I’ve perched myself on the roof near the mast.
This is the best spot to take in the morning. As this day began, we were moored off Île Fourchue — just two-and-a-half miles northwest of St. Barths. At this hour, the sun is still climbing the 340 ft peak of the island and the only things to hear are the sounds of the breeze whispering in your ears and the water lapping at your hull.
The coffee is perfect.
The calm is even better.