A Walkabout less like John Locke’s because I chose to be on the island. (That’s a LOST reference)

Tiny house living is sweeping the nation and the DIY cable TV stations. I’m clearly on board (heh, get it?) with the idea, but that doesn’t mean that I’d recommend it. And if I’m being honest, I’m not quite sure how on board (but did you get it?) I am. I’ve already regaled you with some of the challenges of living on the boat so you know all about how I am slowly losing my mind within 200 sq ft. If you didn’t read it or if your memory fails, I could give you a little refresher about how there’s never enough space, or your life consists entirely of taking things out to put them away shouting, “MOTHERFUCKER!” when suddenly, somehow, it all doesn’t fit in the literally same spot. That can’t be science. Or about how you have to question every single item you bring on board. Do you really need it? Is it worth the space it takes up? When (not if) it gets ruined, how upset will you be?

Certainly not everything about living on a boat translates to living in a tiny house, so some things might in fact be better on land. Probably there is less salt water trying to destroy everything you own and there are fewer plumbing explosions that have been dubbed “Shit Storms.” I assume that putting away the groceries is a dream because all of the tiny house shows that I watch show homes with at least a dorm fridge. Do you know what I would do to have a dorm fridge on this boat? I’m not at liberty to discuss the details, but it isn’t legal. On shore things have to be easier. Like having the option to walk out your front door without needing a dinghy ride which we all know is more than just the ride itself.

One thing that doesn’t change from sea to shore is the literal lack of space. Because duh. It’s a tiny space. That’s the point. But there are times that the whole entire tiny space just isn’t enough. On this boat, anything I own (that didn’t end up in the storage pod) is on average less than 20ft away from me. Everything. EVERYTHING. Think about it. The fridge, the dishes, the couches, the computers, the clean clothes, the dirty clothes, the drying laundry, the bed, the engine, the fuel, the water tanks, the toilets…the holding tanks. If you thought living in the dorms in college was tight quarters, you have no idea. Alicia can tell you that I was not the best college roommate. But now, that room we shared would feel HUGE.

I’m getting distracted thinking about all of the floor space… My god. I could’ve done all the yoga poses. Not that I do yoga. I don’t have the patience. You knew that already though. But just think of all that space in that 10’ x 12’ room! AND ALL THAT INTERNET…

What I find interesting, and oddly comforting, is that craving more elbow room isn’t exclusive to small spaces. When we were renting a 2700 sq ft house that could fit multiple tiny houses within it, I still had urges to get the hell out of dodge. Even though the same scenery day in and day out doesn’t phase me occasionally, other times, all I can think about is every other place in the world and how I need to be there. And that if I don’t get to one of those places soon, I might implode. Or explode. Something messy.

Today was one of those days when I felt like I would make a mess.

Craig is telling me that this happened like over a week ago so I shouldn’t say “today” but I say that anyone reading this is smart enough to know that I don’t mean that literally. Because who knows when people will read this blog? It’ll likely go down in history and people will be reading it for years to come. They obviously know that I didn’t walk across Lopez Island on whatever day they happen to read this in the future. What I’m saying is, I’m on your side. I believe in you. Don’t listen to Craig.

Come hell or high water or low water, I was getting off the boat. Craig wanted to work on projects for a change of pace (if you can’t pick up on my sarcasm yet, you’re probably missing a lot of my message) so he dropped me off on shore. I nearly shouted from the beach, “FREEDOM!” But I thought that would be insensitive. So I waited ‘til Craig was at least 50ft away because I’m a nice person.


My backpack was stocked with water, a computer, and some money. Nothing special happened on my walk into town. My music was up, I danced down the street, and said hello to the cows. We have a rapport now. The farmers market was going on so I took a stroll through and resisted the urge to buy all the kitschy crafty stuff on display because I couldn’t think of a single place to put any of it on the boat. Plus, I don’t have income. Lopez Island has this cool little community spot that accepts donations of items. But rather than selling the items, they are there for the taking. Volunteers keep it all organized, and anyone is welcome to take what they want. It’s almost like a free rummage sale for the whole island. I picked up a pillow case for the vane of our Hydrovane so the sun doesn’t damage it when not in use and a hanging travel toiletry caddy so I can feel slightly more normal (or less like I’m hanging onto reality by a really small thread) when showering. No one wants to keep shower stuff on the floor. At least I don’t. And that’s what matters here. I’m not judging you if your shower stuff is on the floor. You do you.


After gobbling up several hours of free Wi-Fi at the library, I pretended like I would head back to the boat without stopping at Lopez Island Creamery for ice cream. I knew the whole time I was gonna stop. If I can’t reward myself for walking over 9 miles with some oatmeal cookie ice cream, then honestly what is the point?

All in all, I didn’t get much (anything) done. And it was fucking brilliant. Some of you (Craig) will never understand the pure bliss of getting nothing done. And I worry about your souls.

To be honest, I’m not sure why I started this post with tiny homes. I don’t have a clean way to tie this all up and make it cohesive.


5 thoughts on “A Walkabout less like John Locke’s because I chose to be on the island. (That’s a LOST reference)

  1. Very thought-provoking with the tiny house/tiny boat. Just thinking about all your “stuff” right there all the time would make anyone a little batty, never mind how it somehow doesn’t fit back where it came from. And I don’t agree with you about the “not doing anything” part. You walked, you thought about a bajillion things while enjoying the scenery and your freedom, and you cleared your head. You also managed to take some gorgeous photos! Love n hugs to the Kraigles.


  2. I enjoy these posts as on multiple occasions I laugh out loud as I can hear you saying this stuff as if you were right next to me enjoying a nice glass of wine 🙂


  3. dear kraigle ~ ditto kris and kendall!! (and i will completely fail old age if it means never leaving that tiny space – wherever it is – due to incapacity of illness!)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

About Krystle