New Video: Mona Passage and USS Iwo Jima

Ahhhh. Retirement!

In theory, it involves serenity. In practice, it involves me staring at the azure horizon wondering how I could improve it. Perhaps a feature wall? A slightly punchier shade of blue? It’s not you, Caribbean-tropical-paradise, it’s clearly me.

One minute I’m admiring the ocean, the mega-yachts, and my own increasingly tanned navel. The next, I’m spiraling because I haven’t “accomplished” anything today and it’s already time for sunset cocktails-a mandatory daily event permanently forged into my otherwise empty Google calendar. Where did the day go? I have concluded that apparently you can take the real estate broker out of Palm Beach, but you cannot extract the overachiever out of the broker.

For decades my life was a roller coaster of helping clients buy and sell luxury equestrian real estate - which is just regular real estate, but with more money, more acreage, and significantly more animals who outrank you socially. Buying and selling homes is stressful. Buying and selling expensive homes with luxury barns attached? That’s an Olympic sport in human behavior, with dressage-level passive aggression. I sailed away from Palm Beach and left behind the crazies, the crooks, and the chronically cruel… but I’m still left with me. The final, inescapable project.

It seems I don’t actually know how to “just relax.” I have tried meditation; the voices in my head cackled, and heckled me throughout the whole session. Sewing? I’d staple my own hand to a cushion. Wordle? Absolutely not. Did I mention I’m a really bad loser?

So instead, I create things. Essays. Videos. Somewhat dramatized recaps of our floating life. Perhaps one day there will be a book. Perhaps the YouTube channel will explode and we’ll be funded entirely by ads for bilge pumps and navel hair remover. Stranger things have happened…

For example, today a new megayacht parked up next to us with a dinghy for its dinghy for its dinghy. Babushka dolls of wealth. Two of these dinghies live inside the megayacht while it‘s under way, and when the ship anchored, they came spilling out, complete with inflatable slides, floating platforms, a climbing wall and a basketball court, all constructed in record time by a plethora of tan, toned and uniformed crew. The third dinghy even had large amphibious assault-type wheels so its passengers could be delivered to the beach without the indignity of moist toes. I respect that level of commitment to dryness while vacationing on a boat.

The great thing about megayachts is they all have odd names, and so you can easily snoop by googling the boat and their owners. This particular 280-foot behemoth is named “Vibrant Curiosity”, owned by a German billionaire and is worth $150m. According to Wikipedia he made his fortune in “fastening materials” and is commonly known as the “Screw King.” If he can be the “Screw King,” I can absolutely be the “Sea Queen.” My empire will be built on tall nautical tales and remedies for gunk hole cleansing.

But when I hit the big time, I will keep our trawler, my husband (he will naturally be grovelly-grateful for this inclusion), my dog and our travel ambitions. I am, admittedly, hideously behind on my YouTube episodes, and therefore I would treat myself to a video editor: I’m writing this from the British Virgin Islands, while the video I’m releasing was recorded in Puerto Rico two months ago - which creates a small existential wobble. Am I in the past or finally in the present? Or is time just a fictitious concept invented by people who like me, just want to keep score on Busy? And if so, surely none of this matters (except for the sunset cocktails).

Which is a good thing because, in this episode, we:

• Navigate the dreaded and infamous Mona Passage between Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico (a stretch of water with anger issues).

• Get politely but firmly stopped by the U.S. Coast Guard for the second time (maybe they are members of Unanchored Life and that’s how they are tracking us?)

• Witness a full military display courtesy of the USS Iwo Jima, giving Ken, my retired Navy Commander, a trip down memory lane and me a realization that its Ken who should really be writing the stories.

• And explore a deserted island called “Dead Man’s Coffin,” which made us feel like extras in a zombie apocalypse movie, minus the catering and insect repellant.

So here is another installment from a retired overachiever who cannot sit still and refuses to be beaten at Wordle by my Mother.

I hope you enjoy the ride.

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