Holidays are a time for family. It’s a universal feeling - wanting to be together, celebrate, and enjoy each other’s company. But when you live on the sea, holidays can be the hardest. You’re far from the family you grew up with, creating your own traditions and finding comfort in the rhythm of life on the water.
That’s where the sailing community steps in.
Last year, we were lucky enough to sail as part of a “tribe” of 9 family boats. We weren’t always side by side, but we zigzagged close enough never to feel alone. They supported us during difficult times, like those after October 7th, and celebrated our holidays with us, just as we celebrated theirs. Over nine months together, we shared Jewish, Christian, and local holidays. We celebrated, learned, asked questions, and embraced traditions we’d never experienced before.
There’s something truly unique about being part of a tribe of families. There’s a delicate balance between togetherness and the need for solitude, especially after spending so much time in close quarters. But the friendships that form, no matter how brief, are genuine and heartfelt.
Living this lifestyle isn’t easy for outsiders to understand - it’s not a vacation; it’s our life. Among sailing families, no words are needed to explain. There’s an unspoken understanding and quiet support that binds us together.
When we parted ways with that tribe in April, I wasn’t sure we’d find a dynamic like that again - families that embrace each other’s kids, provide support, and respect the need for space. We met many wonderful people along the way, but until December, we hadn’t found the same sense of belonging.
December is always a busy time for us: Hanukkah, Christmas, Or’s birthday, and New Year’s. This year, we found ourselves in the Bahamas, unsure of where we’d land. That’s when we met two family boats that felt like an instant connection. Their rhythms mirrored our own so closely that it just clicked.
We celebrated Christmas with a lovely New Zealand family and got to experience their delicious traditional dishes. The very next night, they joined us for the second night of Hanukkah, where we shared latkes and sufganiyot. Together, we’ve created a rhythm of celebrating, sharing, and supporting each other through the little challenges and joys of life on the sea.
The celebrations aren’t over yet, but one thing is clear - we’re not alone. We’re surrounded by friends who feel like a tribe, like family - not the one we were born into, but the one we chose when we decided to live this extraordinary life on the sea.
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