Are we just wanna-be sailors if we’re motoring so much? Or are we just cautious, thoughtful cruisers? Maybe the answer lies somewhere between wanting to be true sailors and simply enjoying the journey on our own terms. Today encapsulated the highs, the lows, and the endless choices that come with this life aboard.

Last night, during our route planning session, we had a surprise realization: Hilton Head was within reach tomorrow. The idea lit a spark of excitement—two long hops and a weekend spent savoring Hilton Head’s charm? It was tempting. But then Savannah entered the picture, nudging its way into our hearts, thanks to Bob and Linda’s glowing reviews. Savannah is off the beaten path, tucked inside the ICW and quite a bit from outside sailing. Torn, we decided to sleep on it and make the call in the morning.

With the morning light, Savannah won. We sent a reservation request to a marina there, fueled by visions of exploring its storied streets and soaking up its history. An hour into our journey, the email came back: no vacancy. A snag in our plans, but we adjusted quickly, refocusing on Hilton Head and the alluring outside route for Saturday. My excitement surged again… until the latest wind forecast shattered it. The models painted a bleaker picture—strong winds and large swells for Saturday afternoon, precisely when we’d need to navigate the inlet at Hilton Head. Frustration mounted, yet hope lingered for the afternoon forecast update.

Knowing Hilton Head was now our primary target, we locked in a marina reservation there and braced ourselves for the wait. But the afternoon models dashed my hopes further, converging on even stronger winds. The outside route became a risk we didn’t want to take. Disappointed, but embracing prudence, we shifted our focus to the inland route. It meant a lot of motoring (or motor sailing), but better safe than sorry.

We pushed on to reach our evening anchorage—a serene haven surrounded by marshlands. No boats, no people, no houses—just us and the wild, raw beauty of nature. The quiet reminded us of the Everglades, though we crossed our fingers that the anchor wouldn’t drag like it did there! The stretch today was magical, with the river winding through peaceful marshes and the water practically ours alone. It more than made up for the missed opportunity to sail outside. This is the cruising life we love: scenic, tranquil, and filled with moments to savor.

So, are we fake sailors for choosing safety and comfort over risk? At times we question our decisions, doubting if we’re doing it “right.” Yet moments like today remind us why we’re out here—navigating the twists and turns, making the hard calls, and finding joy in the journey. We celebrate the choices that lead us to anchorages like this, cherishing the cruising life in all its complexity. At the end of the day, it’s about the freedom to live on our own terms, whether under sail or under power.

Oh, and in other news from aboard: we ran out of fresh bread today and finally opened the pumpernickel loaf. It was a welcome change—and, surprisingly, pretty tasty! Turns out, pumpernickel isn’t just a backup bread; it’s a vibe.