I first posted this on the Nordhavn Dreamers' site https://groups.io/g/NordhavnDreamers/topic/cruising_speed/107118270
I hope friends and family, on this site, will enjoy it too.
A lot of people ask us what our cruising speed is, and it invariably makes us laugh.
Our usual answers range from "put-putting turtle" to "as slow as we can go" or "slow enough to enjoy the scenery".
Except on rare occasions, when we're trying to make an arrival time in a marina for one reason or another, be it office closure, looming sunset in a new to us pass, or time the tides, we are really not bothered by our speed.
Speed is all in the mind anyway! I don't mean that the SOG (Speed Over Ground) indication on the GPS is a figment of my imagination, but that what feels fast on a boat -say 20 knots- is ever so slow compared to any other mode of motorized transportation. Apart from an ebike I suppose?!
Moving our whole home at 6.3 knots, our long term average speed over many many miles, seems pretty amazing to us. Our whole home, with all our belongings moving quietly while talking to each other using our normal indoor voices, cooking meals, taking our showers, and best of all enjoying the world going by seems pretty good to us. There is nothing we'd get at 8 knots that we don't get at 6.3. Just more noise, and more money becoming wake and smoke. Best of all for sailors out there, 6.3 knots is also our VMG (Velocity Made Good). Just put-putting along, wherever the wind comes from.
Bigger picture though, we're really really slow.
As in it took us from September 2022 to May 2024 to make our way from Alaska to Puerto Escondido (Mexican Baja California Sur), a trip that some make in a few weeks. I don't even want to put that in knots, because it'd be meaningless.
Cruisers and passage makers each have their own speed of going about. We met a couple in Ensenada who where going to "do" the Sea of Cortez and within a couple of months were already on the other side of the world, in the Marquises. That's a lot more time cruising than anchoring in the many magnificent anchorages, snorkeling around, getting to enjoy the sunsets, the whales, rays and all this place has to offer.
Others we've met got "stuck" here and haven't left the "Sea" in 20 years, having done their world exploration.
Either way, each his own, and no one has the absolute answer, just what works for them.
Initially, when we first started dreaming of our adventure on a boat, we figured we'd take a couple of years getting to know the boat, and then -while still "young enough"- we'd cross over to Tahiti and would keep on pushing from there. The N40 was one of the only power boats that could do this. Combined with its great layout for a couple and quality built, it was our obvious choice.
Life came at us pretty fast, and before we'd even reached the 2 year mark I was diagnosed with cancer, so there went our plans of world domination by N40. After another 2 years, a lot spent in hospitals, I was finally declared in remission. I recently reached the 3 years in remission mark, so whilst I will still need medical checkups, my Doc is giving me a lot more freedom to sail further. Our dream is again adapting. We'll keep fingers firmly crossed, but we can again dream of a long future.
That doesn't mean we should speed up our life. On the contrary, we both feel like since we do not know what tomorrow will bring, we should try and enjoy every day as much as we can. For us, slow means time to breathe, open our eyes, see the world, meet people, enjoy each others company. Take Princess, our well traveled husky, on long walks. Marvel and laugh at her discovering a new beach, new crabs to hunt, or warn us with her husky howls when a whale comes close to the boat.
So maybe we'll never explore Tahiti with Enfin (it's not completely off the list). Maybe we'll be so slow that we'll "only" do a simple U around the US through Panama, or maybe we'll keep slowly put-putting our way much further than that. Either way, it's all good.
It may be an old cliche: "it's not the destination, it's the journey" but onboard Enfin, it really feels that way to us.
A few days ago, Di and I were talking about our last 6 years on the boat, reminiscing about the good times, the extraordinary lifetime memories we've made, the people we've met. We both agree that a simple but delightful everyday pleasure at anchorage is watching the sea and surroundings through our shower's porthole when bathing. Ever seen a large ray jump out the water feet away from you from your shower?
We have no doubt, no regret in having sold everything we owned to fit our lives into a 40 footer. Boat size, like speed, isn't the end all to it, just one of the parameters of your boat and your new life.
Some might tire to hear me say this often, but leaving early was a much better decision for us than waiting a few more years to afford a bigger boat. Would we even have bought a larger boat post-cancer?
Best of all, leaving early allowed us an incredible luxury: Time. Time to explore the vast distances of this world.
Of course, we all know what distance divided by time is.
Speed: Leaving early gave us the option to take things slowly.
Our biggest luxury.
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