Katy, like some sailors, has settled down, had kids, and works a 9-to-5 job. I have had a less-conventional life working and cruising on sailboats up until recently, so my anchor is a little less set. It’s been a blessing (sailing!) and a curse (the inability to stabilize on land). There is a veil that is lifted when you live on a boat for an extended period of time, especially in your 20s. As an older cruiser in a Mexican anchorage once told Katy, “You know you’ve messed up your life, right?” He didn’t mean it in the way that many folks at home did when they warned that as a 20-something you would screw up your life trajectory when you quit climbing the corporate ladder and emptied out your savings to buy a leaky old boat — how would you save up for retirement without a 401k? Instead, the old sailor half-grinned with the wisdom of living off the grid with the wind and waves. He knew that we “kids” would never be able to fully accept the conventional way of life. He knew we would always be glancing toward the horizon, checking for another glorious sunset or adrenaline-inducing squall, for something to jangle our nerves and wake us up to the present moment. That we would remember hanging off the bowsprit for midnight sail changes while bioluminescent droplets of water shot up from rocketing dolphins. How the taste of salt would linger on our lips and make us thirsty for the sea, our liquid home. We were screwed because we had not just a taste, but a solid swallow of how simple and hard and beautiful life can be on the water.