My first thoughts regarding Christmas at sea go back to the very beginning of our cruising. In 1976, we had finally gotten away on INTERMEZZO I at the beginning of our circumnavigation. We couldn’t break away from our home port of Los Angeles until November, so Christmas found us in Cabo San Lucas, Baja California, Mexico. Cabo San Lucas was a sleepy fishing village in those days, with dirt roads, just a couple of hotels, and no marina.

Elyse on Christmas the following year in New Zealand.

Family, in the form of grandparents Dashew and Uncle Tony, joined us for Christmas. Elyse and Sarah, then ages seven and four, decorated the main salon with paper chain garlands. We set up a small tree with the few family ornaments we had brought with us, as well as a few Mexican ones we had picked up in Cabo. The plan was for our family to spend part of the visit in Cabo, then sail with us to Puerto Vallarta on the mainland, to enjoy another few days before flying home.

But once we set off for Puerto Vallarta, we didn’t get far. Uncle Tony was violently sea sick. Nana, tending to his needs, forgot the rule about keeping one hand for the boat and one for herself, and was thrown off balance, hitting her head. Everyone felt a little green around the gills. We all crowded into the cockpit, which pushed the stern down too far, and water found its way into the cockpit where it sloshed around our feet. Part way into the first night at sea, it became apparent that this was not going to work, so we turned around and went back to Cabo (much to Steve’s disappointment, because to him the sailing conditions were perfect).

Christmas Eve found us back in the anchorage again. We turned the strobe light on to guide Rudolph and Santa’s sleigh to our boat. Stockings were hung from the upper bunks in readiness. The weather was beautiful, the beaches pristine, the water warm.

In the subsequent days we did some day sailing, and rowed the dinghy ashore to explore the beaches. The drill was to stand off the beach, time the waves, then row at the most opportune time, jump out at the last minute, grab the dinghy gunnels and drag it up on the beach. One afternoon we were making a perfect landing on a steep to beach. Well, this time, Tony jumped out a little too soon. We all expected the water to be shallow here, but he leaped off the dinghy and promptly disappeared under water-and came back up sputtering.

The next day, Steve and I rented a room at the hotel, taking advantage of the grandparents’ offer to babysit. One would think of a romantic tryst? But what we were really thrilled about was getting to use the bath tub to do an enormous load of laundry by hand!

That was the first of many Christmases spent in faraway anchorages. Future holidays were celebrated in New Zealand, New Guinea, and South Africa, as we made our way around the world. Each Christmas holds special memories, and they are all happy ones. We celebrated less lavishly than we might have on land-more simply, but with a lot of heart and love.