Pamela Gibson

I woke up to fog again this morning and the lump in my stomach grew. The boat is solid, Mark knows what he’s doing, the chart plotter works, so why this anxiety? Ingrained personality traits sometimes get in the way of common sense. I’m a worrier—always have been, always will be. My Mexican grandmother used … Read more

Boaters who are together 24/7 often develop their own language. Sometimes its clear and other times it’s not. “Mosquito on your tail.” “How big?” “Big enough to bite if its fast.” Pause. “Hang on. Ouch!” (Translation: fast little fishing skiff has just zoomed by and left us rocking in his wake.)   “Could you change … Read more

When you go to a ball game, you can look at the scoreboard and see what’s been happening. When cruising, you should be able to do it too. So here’s an update. We’ve gone about 1200 miles, finished 25 per cent of the trip, fueled three times (you don’t want to know the cost), and … Read more

Certain rituals seem to be ageless. One is the gathering of women to beat dirty clothes against rocks, to share a little gossip, and to generally pass the time. This ritual continues for boaters…it’s called the marina laundry room. Every week Mark hauls a big bag of laundry to the marina washers while I tag … Read more

As most of you have figured out by now, this isn’t a travelogue. It’s a personal journey and will one day be a book called “Confessions of a White-Knuckle Cruising Spouse.” I thought of the title eight years ago while crossing St. Andrew Sound in a small craft advisory. The sound is shallow, way out … Read more