A Holiday on the Hook
I spent this Christmas in the sand and sea, rather than the snow. I’m accustomed to a very cold, yet cozy, holiday season. This year was quite the contrary. Bella and I were anchored (“on the hook”) behind Hassel Island, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of Charlotte Amalie’s harborfront. I slept in a little, as I had spent Christmas Eve hanging out with the other family-less yachties at a little bar by the marina. However, despite getting back to the boat late that night, I had still managed to prepare bread dough so that it would rise overnight and be ready to bake on Christmas morning! And so, I began my day by baking some cranberry fig walnut bread. After a warm chunk of bread with almond butter for breakfast, I sat outside in the sun to journal and meditate.
I must admit, I’ve been feeling a bit homesick being here alone for the holidays. I love my cozy Michigan home, surrounded by family. It’s easy to get in the holiday spirit when there’s snow on the ground, a fire burning, a fresh-cut tree in the living room, and Christmas dishes cooking in the kitchen. I have none of that here. Well, almost none. I can replicate the food, and I was planning on making the most of that one aspect of familiarity today.
Although I was very honestly looking forward to my little solo dinner aboard, I thought I would first spend some time with friends. Alyssa, a girl I had met almost immediately upon getting to St. Thomas, had invited me to a little day on the beach with her friends and her dad. We swam and sat in the sand for a couple hours, relishing in the very uncharacteristic Christmas day we were having. Late afternoon, I drove back to the dinghy dock and motored back to Bella.
Getting my shower things together, I dove in the water. I lay floating for a while, soaking up the ocean’s soothing energy like a hug. The sun was just beginning to set and the rocky face of Hassel Island was lit up with a beautiful orange hue. This rock has become one of my favorite sunset spots. It’s a small anchorage, usually only shared with one or two other boats. I watch as my neighbors perform similar evening activities. Everyone usually comes out to watch the sun disappear behind the mountainous islands before they begin cooking dinner. It’s a very comforting feeling of community.
I showered outside on the steps of the transom and got cleaned up for my big Christmas dinner! I even slipped on a dress for fun. On the menu was a whole roasted cauliflower, plated on a bed of arugula and topped with a tahini dressing. This was accompanied by a little vegan roast I found at the store. Very simple and low-effort, yet festive. And of course, I had to make some gingerbread cookies as well, which I frosted with a homemade cashew cream cheese frosting. I sat in the cockpit with a holiday candle to enjoy my meal. A phone call home and a Christmas movie finished off the night.
The next day, a woman in my yoga class put it very well - I was alone with myself, rather than by myself. This distinction is important. It changes the perspective from feeling lonely to feeling grateful. And that I am! (I’m realizing this subject warrants a whole separate blog entry, so that will be coming soon.) Though I’m looking forward to a little bit of snow and a cozy fireplace when I visit home in a month, there is so much to be grateful for at this moment. It does no good to long for something you don’t have and miss out on the beauty of what you do have! For example, winter is an opportunity for slowing down - the weather is colder and people naturally just move a little slower. Of course down here, that’s not exactly the case...it’s hot and sunny and feels very much just like summer to me. However, I’ve learned that island life in itself is a good substitute when it comes to slowing down! This way of life is much more relaxed, and I’m learning to not be bothered by it, but rather to embrace its slow rhythm. Winter presents itself differently in different parts of the world, but how I approach it and what I take away from it comes down to my own perspective. This tropical winter of mine may well provide the same slowing down effect as any snowy one!
