I admire the hell out of people who can just go, jumping right into a transatlantic passage or making a beeline for the Panama Canal and the Pacific, quitting land cold turkey right from the start. I'd hoped that I was that way, but when we left last year, I learned that I wasn't, at least not then. I still felt tied to "home," to land, to those ways of living. I was timid; I never wanted to stray too far. I don't think the kids felt that way; they're so resilient, so hopeful, so able to live in the moment. Nor do they bear the burden of responsibility. They're like I used to be when I'd be racing offshore with a bunch of big guys: a participating member of the crew, but one who could always turn to those big guys for help. Now, suddenly, all was changed. I didn't have those guys. I had my husband, my kids, and me. All the decisions, and all the responsibility, fell to Johnny and me. It made me vulnerable in a way I hadn't known before.