Seven Days That Changed Everything
Genoa, Italy
Today marks seven days since Luna became ours—seven days that have contained lifetimes of experience. As we sit docked at a marina in Genoa, surrounded by the organized chaos of our first major boat project, I’m struck by how profoundly this vessel has already reshaped our sense of time and space. The calendar insists it’s only been a week, but our souls now keep time with the moon's pull rather than calendar pages.
The Path to Waterborne Living
Moving aboard required equal parts planning and intuition—something Hugh and I discovered during our unconventional first date: two weeks on a research vessel in Svalbard’s Arctic wilderness, binoculars perpetually trained on the horizon for polar bears. That trip confirmed what we already knew—we’re most alive surrounded by water. With Hugh’s professional sailing experience and my captain’s license, we approached this transition with clear eyes rather than starry-eyed idealism.
The Bali 5.8 captivated us at first sight. Her thoughtful design—transformative folding doors that erase boundaries, voluminous storage for extended voyages, a master suite rivaling land-based comforts, and that glorious bow patio perfect for sunset lounging—spoke directly to our vision of life afloat. By February 3rd, we’d secured hull #25, the paperwork coinciding perfectly with Hugh’s New York apartment closing.
This week, we released our last terrestrial ties—the Miami apartment and my LA house —without nostalgia. Luna has spoiled us thoroughly: waking to seabirds instead of traffic, choosing our view with each new passage. What began as shared adventures has become something quieter and deeper—the unshakable understanding that this is where we’re meant to be.
Construction Zone Reality
Our arrival in Genoa was less a triumphant finale than an urgent commencement. After covering 300 nautical miles in three days, we transitioned directly into project mode. The air conditioning installation—critical for our tropical itinerary—has turned Luna inside out: ceiling panels removed, cabinetry exposed, our mattress relocated to the salon amidst a spiderweb of tools and wiring. That serene week in Port-Cros now feels like a beautiful prologue, the calm before we began truly dissecting our floating home.
Yet even amid the dust and disruption, the magic persists. Each evening, as technicians depart, Hugh and I inspect Luna like proud parents, noting features we adore and dreaming of modifications. This summer of construction isn’t just about installing systems—it’s about imprinting ourselves on every compartment, learning her bones and sinews, preparing her to carry our shared future across oceans.
The Unexpected Joy of Our E-Bikes
One of the greatest surprises aboard has been how our foldable e-bikes transform errands into adventures. These compact powerhouses—stowed neatly in Luna’s storage—have become our magic carpets for exploration.
There’s something liberating about zipping through Genoa’s labyrinthine alleys, grocery bags swinging from handlebars, knowing we can park right at Luna’s transom. The real magic, though, happens in unplanned moments: spotting a bustling trattoria down a side street and simply pulling over to follow our noses to discovery.
Our bikes led us to a tiny pizzeria where their calzone—crisp crust giving way to molten stracciatella—redefined perfection. They guided us to that tiny osteria where the pesto—bright as emeralds, tasting of Ligurian sunshine—made me freeze mid-bite. (We later laughed upon realizing we’d stumbled into pesto’s birthplace by pure instinct.)
What began as practical transportation has become our secret weapon against routine—turning grocery runs into cultural expeditions and dockyard chores into serendipitous encounters.
The Joy of Easy Partnership
Hugh and I often pause to appreciate how effortlessly we move through life together—not because it’s unusual, but because it delights us. Our synergy isn’t cultivated; it’s the natural result of sharing the same wavelength about what matters. What makes us work isn’t complicated: we’re wired similarly. Faced with challenges, we focus on solutions rather than blame. When things go wrong (like Hugh’s impromptu swim after that coffee stain), we default to laughter. When things go right—like nailing a tricky mooring or discovering incredible pesto—we celebrate with equal enthusiasm.
This week aboard Luna has been one long celebration. Every time we fall into our unspoken rhythm—Hugh managing systems while I plot courses, or me prepping meals while he tackles repairs—we exchange glances that say, How lucky are we? We don’t take this harmony for granted. We acknowledge it daily, not from surprise but from appreciation. Whether it’s navigating our first storm or craving the same sunset cocktail, we’re constantly aware of the joy this partnership brings.
Luna hasn’t created this dynamic—she’s given it room to shine. Every organized locker, every smooth docking, every moonrise from the bow lounge reinforces what we’ve always known: we’re better together. And that’s worth celebrating daily.
Some more fun firsts:
First G&T: Finally mixed proper cocktails in the cockpit after days of boat work. The simple pleasure of cold gin with a view beats any bar.
First Thunderstorm: A heavy downpour rinsed Luna’s salt crust at last.
First Shower: Tested the master head’s shower now that we’re marina-bound. Good water pressure and instant hot water – a luxury.
First Full Washdown: Learned just how long it takes to hose down a 60-foot catamaran.
First Cushion Installation: Returning the exterior cushions transformed Luna into a proper home (though we’ll remove them for passages).
First “This Is Really Our Boat” Moment: Biking back from town and seeing Luna tied up among other yachts – that visual confirmation that we’re actually living this life.
Each first represents another step in making Luna ours. More to come as we complete the AC installation and prepare for the next leg.
— Shay
Aboard S/V Luna
Genoa, Italy
