Our plan: drop the stern, motor forward, drop the bow, and snug everything tight. Reality: wrap the stern line on the prop, drift awkwardly across the anchorage, and scramble to recover.

No, we didn’t win the lottery. We don’t have a secret trust fund. And despite the tropical backdrops, this cruising life didn’t just fall into our laps. We work. A lot of other younger cruisers we’ve met work too. Often between snorkel trips, surfing and sail changes there’s a laptop open. It might not be the glamorous “quit everything and drift into the sunset” life we imagined when we left Vancouver two years ago

When we tell people we live full-time on a sailboat in the tropics, most assume we’re either retired or sitting on a hefty trust fund. Truth? We’re neither. We’re just two regular people who decided that time was more valuable than stuff—and figured out how to make money sailing so we could keep doing what we love.

When we first talked about buying a sailboat and traveling full-time, people often assumed it would be a cheap way to live. And, honestly, so did we. But the real answer to “Is it cheaper to live on a boat?” is: it depends.

Ah, slow mornings with coffee and a book, long beach days, sunset views while gently bobbing at anchor, and wrapping it all up with a beach fire. Just another day in paradise, right? Old salty sailors say cruising is about sacrifice over comfort. They’ll tell you about surviving a summer in the Sea of Cortez with nothing but a spray bottle and a fan. Instagram definitely tells both stories - the luxe sunsets and the down and dirty boatwork.

We signed up for sailing lessons—but Covid had other plans. So we did what any desperate dreamers would do: we bought a sailboat off Craigslist, with no experience. Yes, really.