Recently, a teacher from Fakarava Primary School in French Polynesia wrote to say that L’Arbre Généreux—The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein—brought tears to her students’ eyes. It was their favorite story because they believe caring for the planet is so important. She thanked me for giving them the book.
I recalled the sun scorching my skin the day I walked the sandy street to their school. I peeked over a wooden fence and asked the nearest adult if I could speak with the director. It turned out that she was in a classroom, teaching. I didn’t want to interrupt her lesson, but I did hope to return at a more convenient time, so I quickly introduced myself and my passion. To my surprise, she invited me to read on the spot.
I hadn’t rehearsed a French story, so she suggested I read one in English. The students were eager to hear my American accent, she said. As I read The Crocodile and the Dentist by Taro Gomi, the children winced, squealed and laughed. Afterward, we chatted about how far I had sailed to visit them, and how far they had come from neighboring atolls to attend school in Fakarava. Before I left, they sang their school song, with a teacher playing the ukulele.
That unforgettable experience was just one of many I’ve had since we began cruising five years ago. From the Mediterranean to the South Pacific, I’ve found a way to connect with communities through stories, and this has made all the difference.
Before we left our home port, I stocked Gerty, our Allures 45.9, with books. Looking back, I was idealistic and inspired. At my medical practice in New York, I had watched Reach Out and Read volunteers foster early literacy in the waiting room. Surely, I reasoned, I could do the same thing somewhere else. Three months into our voyage, I became an ambassador for Hands Across the Sea, and my commitment to school readings grew from there.
This work, while deeply rewarding, hasn’t been without challenges: financial, cultural and environmental.
Fundraising has been essential because I donate the books I read (and then some). I considered starting a nonprofit organization, but decided the small size of my operation did not warrant filing for tax-exempt status. Instead, I launched a GoFundMe campaign. I’ve also done targeted email fundraising for special projects that have stemmed from my reading engagements, such as painting a primary school in The Gambia.
Culturally, I strive to give inclusive, multilingual books. This means I spend a lot of time researching titles and ordering from competitively priced U.S. distributors. On the ground, I prepare by learning about local customs and arranging interpreters whenever needed.
Environmentally, I manage the preservation of books in the marine setting by sealing them in airtight vacuum bags and storing them flat in isolated plastic containers. I also plan for exposure to the local environment, as appointment times tend to change. Travel to schools in extreme temperatures is common.
Looking back, some of my favorite experiences weren’t even in schools. There was the time I read to children on the porch of a teacher’s home on Mayreau in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Another time that I hosted an impromptu story time on a street corner in Tendaba in The Gambia. And the time I spent the day reading at a summer camp in Makemo Atoll, French Polynesia, where I was spontaneously added to the activity schedule.
I’ve also learned what works best when giving back as a traveler. It’s important to research the needs of the communities and to make sure your efforts align with their goals. Build relationships early, and approach with cultural humility. Partnering with local organizations can simplify logistics, and interpreters can be invaluable. Thoughtful gifts—a tool, building materials, a soccer ball—can be appreciated, but something mismatched may offend. Sometimes, arriving with nothing but an open heart is best.
Moments of cultural exchange, however small, can transform the cruising lifestyle into something deeply fulfilling. I’ve met sailors who turned beach trash into Christmas ornaments and sold them to fund local environmental programs. Others ferried marine scientists to remote reef sites, or delivered gifts across the sea to children in need. One couple plotted their entire voyage around the homes of the children they sponsor in coastal villages worldwide.
Many cruisers have skipped a sightseeing adventure, delayed a repair or paused remote work to do something more meaningful. Giving freely, without expecting anything in return, enriches life aboard. For me, storytelling is a way to remind children they matter. Their laughter and smiles propel me forward, like wind in my sails.
Jill Gallin is a U.S. Coast Guard-licensed captain, pediatric nurse practitioner and mother of two. She is sailing the world with her husband, Michael, on Gerty, their Outremer 49. Learn more at svgerty.com
