This year marked our seventeenth Thanksgiving since we started sailing around the world. The view through the porthole has varied wildly over the years, from a desert range backing Baja’s Bahía Tortugas; to Papua New Guinea’s lush Hermit islands tucked behind a fringing reef; or here in the lightly urban Micronesian town of Majuro, the capital of the Marshall Islands. Whatever the view, three markers for the holiday remain the same: We gather with our community, we bask in shared gratitude and we eat maybe just a little too much from the dishes that echo traditional fare.
Prior to our cruising years, we would gather for a feast in the home of relatives or found family, or we’d host it ourselves. Around the table, we’d reflect on the year and the things we were thankful for. Of course, there was always a parade of familiar dishes. In Jamie’s family, it was an indulgent potato bake known simply as GPC (golden potato casserole)—we have the recipe card from his late mother’s hand. In my family, it was a tart/sweet cranberry relish and a pumpkin pie, and impossibly delicious variations on stuffing my father would create. Possibly also my grandmother’s candied yams—her memory sits with me anytime I stir gravy, striving for her glossy perfection. We’d share memories, those we pulled to the present to extend to the next generation, and those we hoped to make for the future, binding traditions with our children. Also, we can’t be the only family for whom listening to Alice’s Restaurant Massacree a few times is essential, right?
A Focus On What Matters
This year, Jamie and I broke with a lifetime of tradition and went to a restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner* (gasp!). Dining out feels anathema to the way we’ve celebrated in the past, but the three key themes of gathering, gratitude and good food came together. Gathered were crews from six boats, plus an American expat couple living in Kwaj—the travelers who are found-family. Gratitude was shared around the table, individuals expressing what they were thankful for here in the wild west of the Pacific Ocean. Good food… well, of course there was just a little too much food!
It’s perfectly in keeping with the cruising life to be presented with change and to adapt. When I saw the menu for the Thanksgiving buffet (I usually don’t go for the buffet thing), my first thought was, this is a great way to actually have turkey for Thanksgiving. Have you seen the size of a boat oven? Even when we can find a turkey, it’s usually not an option.
My second thought was, wow, I see exactly none of my essential dishes here. (Really, how could anyone leave cranberries and pumpkin pie out of Thanksgiving dinner?)
But the last, biggest and unequivocally enthusiastic reaction I had was: “Cool!” What a fantastic opportunity to sample a range of Marshallese specialties. It was exciting to see multiple dishes I didn’t recognize, foods that we may not otherwise have the chance to try during our months in the Marshall Islands.
We sampled Bob Beru, a pandanus-flavored gelatin cake. Jamie went back for seconds of the banana jukjuk, sweet bananas rolled into balls and covered with fresh grated coconut—which is nothing like the sweetened coconut sold in US grocery stores. My favorite was Lukwoj, a fritter made from the sponge that forms inside a sprouting coconut. We washed it all down with jakaro, a lightly fermented brew from coconut palm sap.
Although it really is the gathering and gratitude that matter most, Thanksgiving is still 100 percent a food-centric holiday for us. Cruising chef Sarah Powell interviewed me for Conversations In The Galley to talk about how we plan for holiday meals as world travelers. My hack is to stash cans of cranberries and pumpkin puree. It’s always easy to make stuffing, too—as the kids remind me, we are an ingredient household. No regrets about the very different Thanksgiving dinner at the resort—I dove for the prime rib; let’s face it, that’s a rare treat—but I was also seriously considering also making our own Thanksgiving dinner for two on Totem to indulge our traditional requirement for the season—yes, including cranberries and pumpkin pie.
Whether near home or far away, memories of Thanksgivings past always circle back. Those from land, like touch football with my cousins on a leafy lawn in Kirkland, or beach walks with our found-family on Bainbridge Island. There are others from more recent years, like the gift of proximity to “the Carlsbad Cousins,” and road trips between there and Mexico to share the day and Gifford clan traditions. And we’ll try not to be a little wistful or homesick, missing the kids, who are together in Washington surrounded by relatives, traditions and gratitude imbued from their childhood—and cranberries, stuffing, pumpkin pie… What, me? Jealous?
We really have so much to be thankful for. In this moment, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that our ill ship’s cat, Panchita, is improving. As folks who followed on our social media know, our boat cat Panchita has been very sick. Her illness is still resolving, but the good news is that she seems to have turned a corner and is finally acting like herself again, interested in food and us. I’m grateful beyond words for this, as well as the outpouring of support from our friends and community to get to this better place.
Wishing you and yours a Thanksgiving of gratitude, family, and perhaps just a little too much food.
* I was later reminded that we have had one other restaurant-based Thanksgiving. It was in the landlocked southern African nation of Lesotho. Since that completely-untraditional meal began with a pub crawl aboard a donkey, I think I can be forgiven for the lapse in memory.
