Keeping Relationships Afloat on Sailboats
Whenever we meet someone new and they find out what we’re doing, they usually stamp out something like, “You guys are living the dream!” And, we are. But let me tell you a few things about “Living the Dream” that you may not know. We live in approximately 115 square feet. We have to manually pump the toilet. Our shower is so small that you hit your elbows on the wall when you wash your hair. Our refrigerator measures six cubic feet, and our bed is shaped like a triangle. Our feet touch all the time. Most of you have kitchens larger than what we live in every day. But our view is spectacular, it’s paid for, and if we don’t like our neighbors we move… the whole house. See, we live on a sailboat.
When it comes to writing about relationships, the good, the bad and the ugly, one must tread lightly; but I’ve never been one to shy away from difficult topics. Maybe I should more often, but as this experiment of living aboard progresses, we continue to discover new things about our dynamic as a couple. People ask all the time, “How do you guys spend all that time together in such a small space?” I answer with one word: drugs. (I know, not funny.) Seriously, Mel and I never argue. We just don’t. We spend almost every minute of the day together. That’s a lot of together time. Recently Mel and I did have a “heated” discussion which left me wanting some… space. Which is funny since we have no space. The time tested “I’m gonna go sleep on the couch” is not really an option since said couch is about five feet away and not a very effective strategy. When this situation arises, one is faced with two options:
1. Settle the argument quickly, lovingly, respectfully, and move on.
2. Don’t settle the argument, and crawl over, around, and under your partner in an incredibly awkward silence until you simply have no choice but to resolve the issue. One can only walk the dog for so long.
My advice: get to it as quickly as possible. Don’t strive to be right. Strive to be whole. To be together and pushing from the same side of the wagon. We are indeed living the dream. I’m blessed with a smart, beautiful, funny, and caring wife who laughs at my horrendous, off-color jokes. Let’s face it, we can all be difficult at times. But these are 115 square feet of hopes and dreams, and from what I understand, hope floats.
By Chris Dicroce
