Fun With Flotation

Silas’ new PFD is a sort of floating straightjacket, serving the dual purpose of keeping his head above water and restraining him as though he were a dangerous lunatic. This is a necessary design feature, because toddlers share many key characteristics with the criminally insane: they babble nonsensically, have regular shrieking tantrums, and if permitted to do so, they will happily eat paint.

And so, as parents, it is our responsibility to keep Silas safe at sea. As we have never sailed with a baby ex-utero, we plan to fulfill this task with equal parts research and improvisation. I began this process months ago, by Googling such useful keywords as BABY SAFETY AT SEA and CRUISING WITH TODDLERS. Some of the advice I found was diplomatic: “Sailing with Toddlers is almost always challenging. Once they start crawling around, there is no stopping them.” Some, on the other hand, resembled a bumper sticker from hell: “KIDS DO FALL OVERBOARD.” But my favorite bit of wisdom came from a man who had clearly been there, weathered the storm , and barely escaped with his life. He wrote, simply: “It is toddlers that are the real stuff of nightmares.” Then his post ended abruptly, as though he had to go mix himself a stiff drink and lie down.

I also found this curious piece of advice, which made me wonder if any of these people had actually taken a baby to sea, or whether all of these websites were just a big practical joke on reckless idiots like me:

“the simple hammocks they make for hanging food stuffs and such in the saloon area is great for them, providing they are not too heavy.”

The simple hammocks to which this person refers are an excellent way to turn fruit into jam. They also work nicely for tenderizing an old leg of mutton. They are not, however, a practical place to stow things, unless you are deliberately trying to liquefy them. Stowing things in hammocks is a typical mistake for new cruisers, right up there with flushing tampons down the head and allowing a swarming metropolis of cockroaches to make babies in your V-berth.

Hammocks are picturesque, and they make people think of Treasure Island, and how cute Johnny Depp looked in Pirates of the Caribbean, parts 1, 2 and 3. People who have never been to sea imagine their hammocks swaying gently in the bosom of Mother Ocean, rocking their babies to sleep in a primordial flow. These people have never been close-hauled in a steep, short chop, or found themselves sailing downwind in a rolling swell. Sometimes the ocean’s rhythm is gentle and sweet. Other times, it’s like being in a car crash.

And so, Silas will not be sleeping in a hammock at sea. We will need to come up with our own solution. I am considering, for example, placing him in a safety helmet and an armored car seat, then through-bolting him to the bulkhead, then encasing the whole package in fifty feet of water-resistant foam. I realize, however, that this may make it difficult for him to play with his toys.

Has anyone taken a toddler to sea? Do you have any wisdom to share?