Confined Spaces

A common question after the preliminaries of, “Where did you come from?” is, “How do you live in such a small space?” It is a reasonable query. The USA is a privileged country. For the most part, we have a higher standard of living than much of the world.

I am not saying we eat, drink, have more leisure time, live longer or are generally happier than the rest of humanity just that we have more room. Houses, apartments, condominiums, boats, cars, and motor homes tend to be larger, that is except in Manhattan.

Carrie Rose besides being a handsome boat has a well-designed interior for a couple. Incorporated into 32’ is a forward berth and toilet facility, a central pilothouse where the controls are located, and behind this, down three stairs, is the salon and kitchen.

The salon is the main living space. It is stretched out to almost the entire width of the boat and I’d say is about a third of the overall length. This space also houses the kitchen. The kitchen has a sink, a two-burner stove with a functional oven and enough counter space to cook a gourmet meal, along with storage and a small refrigerator.

The salon has a L-shaped bench to the port and a swing up dining table to the starboard. Just behind the table is a wet locker to which a cabin heater is attached. There are seven large windows to let light in and eyeballs out. It makes for a pleasant space. It is not claustrophobic. Here we can sit, eat dinner and watch the world float by.

The one area on the boat that is confined is the inner portion of the forward cabin’s double bunk. It is a compromise to get a double bed into a small V-shaped space. Instead of a V-berth, the port side of the V is combined with the starboard side of the V and thus a fair size double is created.

It is a good selling point. In fact, we looked for a model that had this feature. Later when we started to spend time on Carrie Rose we realize that it creates problems for the inside sleeper. That is the person nestled against the starboard side of the hull and partially under the deck.

Because of this, Charlotte and I have traded years. One year she sleeps inside and the next I do. Of course, since I have the enlarged prostate it is I doing most of the nocturnal WC visits. When the inside sleeper needs to rise the outside sleeper has to get out of the way or the inside sleeper will be forced to crawl over the outside sleeper. Either way neither of the sleepers remains sleeping.

Because of this, I have designated myself the outside sleeper and the yearly trade off has broken down. This is a source of contention.

There are other issues: claustrophobia, lack of a breeze for the inside sleeper, sleeper impingement — my fault due to due my need to warm up my freezing feet — and well, I think that is enough information.

Living on a small boat has many sources of contention. I will not even begin to list them. A cruising couple needs to develop a strategy and stick to it. Every couple we have cruised with has one.

These strategies are full of holes and inconsistences usually obvious to the rest of the world, and dare I say, the couple themselves. But cruising is an each-to-their-own environment. Whatever the magic that makes work in such a confined space is just that, magic.