For most boaters staying in a marina is something they do on a regular basis, it’s nothing special. But for us, it is a luxury that we haven’t had in many, many years. Nine in fact. Yep, it’s been nine years since we’ve had Kate alongside – that’s not counting the 10 minutes we spent on a very scary customs dock when we checked in in Palau in 2015 (and those dreadful years stranded in a boatyard in the Philippines.) It wasn’t exactly conscious decision, we simply haven’t seen a marina since New Caledonia.

That’s a lot of nights sleeping with one ear open, worrying about wind shifts and dragging anchor or mooring lines breaking – (another memorable moment in Palau when the shackle on our recently inspected mooring parted when we were ashore for half an hour. The only reason we didn’t drift into the massive rock wall behind us was because we were also stern tied to a wreck due to the confined space.)

And that’s also a lot of dinghy trips ashore and back lugging everything – provisions, water, fuel, new sails, luggage, friends, dive gear, laundry, BBq’s and all the necessaries for a three course, romantic dinner in a cave.

So, when we motored into the Sutera Harbour Marina in Kota Kinabalu (called KK by the locals) it was with some excitement, and trepidation. After all, we had to make it into the pen unscathed and I was definitely out of practice. Of course, thanks to Steve’s usual calm demeanour and excellent driving everything went smoothly, and I managed not to trip and fall when I jumped off onto the dock to secure the lines. Boat secured and both breathing normally again, we marvelled at the stillness of being alongside, then immediately hung a sunshade on both sides of the cockpit to give us some privacy from our now very close neighbours.

Sutera Harbour is kinda ritzy but there really isn’t an alternative when in KK.

The small anchorage in front of town isn’t particularly protected from either the weather or the slop from the daily boat traffic. All the same, what we were looking for wasn’t really the comforts of a marina but a secure mailing address. A handy thing to have access to when one needs to have a brand new passport mailed from the Canadian consulate in Kuala Lumpur and new membranes and pressure vessels delivered to get the watermaker back up and running. Our plan was to stop there briefly, arrange everything with the marina office, take off for a few weeks until we got notification that everything had arrived and then return for another few nights to pick things up.

And we did just that, except when we returned we ran into a couple of snags and delays and a few nights turned into a week…or maybe two…ish. Ok, we stayed close to three weeks.  

The thing is, we kinda got to like the ease of lugging home bags and bags of provisions and laundry without having to worry about things getting wet in the dinghy, and knowing that filling the water tanks on board just meant turning on a hose for 10 minutes, and being able to lay in bed at the end of the day with a very good chance of sleeping through the night.

Then there were the hot showers ashore with unlimited water and complimentary fluffy towels, exercising in the airconned gym, the afternoon dips in the pool when it was stinking hot, the freedom to step off the boat at anytime without worrying if she’s still be there when we retuned, and the novelty of being out after dark (something we don’t do often when on anchor.)

Marina life felt easy. And easy isn’t how I’d describe the past few years.

We both felt guilty in the beginning.

Easy comes at a cost, and when your only option is the “Golf, Country Club & Marina” that cost ain’t exactly cheap. Then I realized that there was no point beating ourselves up about things. We’ve managed to sustain our sailing life for the past 16 years without going into debt or asking the public to financially support us. A few weeks of the easy life every decade isn’t going to break the bank.

I also decided that we needed to stop feeling guilty for enjoying the ‘luxuries’ that most people don’t even give a second thought to (let alone consider a luxury) – endless hot water on demand, being able to plug in a hairdryer, not worrying if you house is going to float away in a storm. We’ve given up a lot to be able to sail full time – seeing family and friends on a regular basis and job security being a couple of the big ones – it should be ok for life to be easy for a little while. It should be ok to indulge in a few mod cons now and then

And so, we did.

Our afternoons at the pool became a regular event that we both looked forward to. Not only did we cool off and relax, I started working on breath holding exercises. Thanks to some sound advice from Jeff, a sailor we met forever ago in French Polynesia who is a keen free diver and nurse who works in the respiratory field, I quickly improved my time underwater from an anxious 45 seconds to a calm 2 minutes 30 seconds. The breath holding exercises felt like a form of mediation and I left the pool every afternoon feeling calm and centred, as if I’d just spent an hour doing yoga.

We decided to go out on a few dates. After a hot shower I spent 15 minutes blow drying my hair, we both got dressed up, and Steve put on my favourite cologne that usually only comes out for special occasions. We hopped in a cab, had beer at a fairly classy joint, and explored the night markets of KK. We came home at 2130 feeling happy and carefree, no need to raise the dinghy, desaltify, or check the weather for the hundredth time.

Kitten also enjoyed our time alongside, gingerly hopping ashore to roll around on the concrete, chase crabs, and stare-down the cat down the dock, then scampering back on board when she inevitably got spooked by a stranger or a noise (she’s very shy and wary of anything new.) She’s been such a trooper adjusting to sailing after only knowing life onboard in the yard where she went on regular adventures ashore. It was nice to let her wander free.

I understand why boats get stuck in marinas and why, when people do start to adventure further afield, they find it so difficult.

But I also know the relief we both felt when we finally threw the dock lines, spent a day out sailing, and threw the hook at another new anchorage. Out of the confines of the marina and away from the constant background hum of modernity, I began to unwind in a different and more familiar way.

Our regular life on board may not include long hot showers, and fluffy towels, and worry free nights, but it does have endless horizons, and a sky full of stars, and bird song. As much as I enjoyed all those little luxuries, I feel more at home when we are closer to the natural world, and a little futher away from all the consummerism and waste that is “normal” these days. That’s not to say that we won’t be back in a marina sometime in the near future, once again enjoying those mod cons, but it’s nice to realize that the simple life that we’ve choosen is the right one for us.

Love,

H&S