You do not always realise how vulnerable life on the water can be until something happens that truly shakes you. This week, we witnessed a painful accident involving a child. Out of respect for those involved, I will not go into detail, but we are relieved to say that things are looking hopeful. Still, the event stirred something deep within me, and I feel the need to share what it has brought up for us, and especially for me.

When you live on the water, safety is something you take very seriously. At the same time, it is also something you often test the boundaries of. In this case, the accident had nothing to do with boats. It was simply an unfortunate encounter with sharp rocks, could have happened on any beach. But it served as a strong reminder of how quickly things can go wrong. Living away from the mainland and without access to private land transport makes everything more complicated. And even though we are not even that far from the nearest town right now, getting help still proved to be a slow and unclear process.

It also reminds you that you are living within different cultures, with other customs and expectations. When something goes wrong, you feel that difference acutely. Being so close to it all affected me more than I expected. It is not that I suddenly want to change everything. We already live quite consciously and take safety seriously. But it reminded me, in a broader sense, just how fragile and precious life is.

What moved me most was the power of community. Not just the people we know, but also strangers who immediately stepped in to help. I had already felt the need to be surrounded by likeminded people, but this week made that feeling even clearer. When people help each other from a place of understanding and shared experience, something truly meaningful happens.

After a year of travelling, I noticed how independent we have become. We rarely ask for help. Even with our mooring lines, we are always thinking through every scenario so we can manage on our own. But this week reminded me how wonderful it is to be part of a team. Everyone helped one another. There was no hesitation, only support.

We all know how delicate life is. Thankfully, after the incident, we could breathe again. Recovery for the little one will take time, but it is coming. I can still feel the echoes of it in my body, and I wonder, can we prevent this in the future? Should we be even more careful? But I do not think so. We already use our common sense, and exploring is part of a child’s nature.

What we know now, and what gives us great comfort, is that if something were to happen again, we can count on the people around us, the ones we know, but also the ones we don’t know (yet). That knowledge feels like a deep breath of relief.

Because in the end, community is the strongest anchor we have.

Written by: Mirjam