Living the dream can take years of hard work and planning and follow a circuitous route.

My wife Michele and I were ready for a change. After our third year of living aboard a 33-foot Hunter sloop on the Ashley River in Charleston SC, it was time to step up to the next boat. Not that there was much to complain about. The two of us enjoyed our peaceful lives with Knight our 100-pound Weimaraner dog. Living in a marina on the Intercoastal Waterway places you in contact with some salty characters and we were constantly entranced by the seasoned sailors that visited our marina with their tales of the Caribbean and beyond.

We had d purged most of our possessions prior to moving aboard. We knew we were ready to take the plunge into the realm of Caribbean cruisers and started making our escape plans. The Hunter was a wonderful place to live as long as we never left the marina. Its racing design provided none of the characteristics that we felt were important for a great ocean adventure. We started lusting after large water and fuel tanks, big storage areas, wind generators, solar panels, massive battery banks, and strong hulls. We had visions of Westsails dancing in our heads and put our boat on the market full of anticipation about our new adventure. Then, Michele twice changed my life with two little words. The first time was when she said "I Do." The second time was the day after we signed paperwork putting our boat on the market. This time the two words were "I’m Pregnant!"

The boat yard is where the dream is made or broken.

After hours of discussion Michele and I agreed that we would have to place our cruising adventure on hold. We left our boat on the market and moved on land. There, we soon both felt so displaced that it wasn’t long before we were assuring each other that it was just a temporary move. Alexandria Orion arrived just two weeks early on January 23, 2001. Our lives have never been better. Alex continued to grow and our dreams of cruising resurfaced. The compact cruiser that Michele and I planned to live on and carry to the Caribbean seemed a bit small with our new addition. We wanted Alex to grow up on our new vessel. We felt like a cabin and a head that she could call her own would help her feel more comfortable as she grew a little older. We also intend to home school her and we needed additional room for her class materials and study areas. We also wanted a boat that one person could handle in an emergency and two people could handle with ease. I felt there were going to be times when we could all use some privacy, so we started looking at center cockpit boats. We still needed the water and fuel tanks, storage areas, and electric systems that would carry us safely and comfortably into our adventure.

The winner was a 37-foot Irwin Center Cockpit Sloop. She was built in 1980, and went on to get a lot of cruising under her belt. That experience was good--it showed she was up to the task, but also meant she was well overdue for a major refit. After the sea trial and we went straight to the boat yard. Our first task was replacing all the thru-hulls and seacocks. The old original bronze thru-hulls had seen better days and the seacocks were frozen gate valves. After two coats of fresh bottom paint, we motored our new project back to our marina trying to enjoy the last boat trip we knew we would be having for a while. On cue, the engine quit while we were attempting to back into our slip, and the current pushed her sideways into her new home. We spent the next two months taking apart our new purchase and throwing much of it away. It was hard to keep our enthusiasm up during this period. The work was demanding and the visible positive results were few.

The previous owner had replaced the original ports with new stainless and glass ABI ports. Michele and I liked the look and function of the new ports, but found that they had been placed in old holes that were too large. Water was leaking around the ports rotting the surrounding wood and destroying the head liner. So off came the ports and the holes were filled with fiberglass. People on the docks thought we had grown tired of having a sailboat and we were trying to build a submarine. Michele and I vowed to accomplish something positive for the boat project everyday. Showing up for work was the one thing that we knew would bring us closer to finishing our endeavor. After we replaced the ports we replaced the hatches and the dead lights. And nine months after we started the project we sat inside during a rain storm, dry for the first time.