On the third day of a passage we estimated would take two, I was at my wit's end and found myself longing for the comfort of mothers' groups, playgrounds and land.

I was playing on the cabin sole with my daughter Max singing, "The Winches on the Boat Go Round and Round" for the hundredth time. The opposing wind and current were creating a washing–machine motion that made it impossible to have the hatches open or to let Max crawl around, and I was doing everything I could to avoid seasickness.

TIFFANY MILLERDoctor Mom at work on the family boat.

The romantic idea of sailing around the world as a family seemed anything but. However, when we finally dropped anchor and took Max for her first swim in the warm Caribbean waters, I remembered what cruising as a family is all about.

In 2000 my husband and I began rebuilding our sailboat, a 1972 Allied 39 christened Daydream, with the intention of circumnavigating with a family onboard for five to seven years. Our plan was to sail from Long Island, New York, to the Western Caribbean, spend approximately a year exploring the region, then to pass through the Panama Canal to the South Pacific. Our travels would take us to the North Pacific, Asia, through the Suez Canal to the Mediterranean and eventually across the Atlantic and back to New York.

We knew that if we wanted to make our vision a reality, we'd need two incomes and have to live on a tight budget. We realized that starting a family would have to wait until we were ready to set sail, but at the time, we never thought it would take seven years.

TIFFANY MILLERMax took a liking to the local produce.

When we finally announced we were expecting a child, the reaction from everyone was the same: "I guess that means you won't go cruising now." Even though we explained having a child was always part of the plan, many were convinced that once our child was in my arms, we'd buy a large house with a white picket fence and settle down. We were treated with such skepticism that we might as well have said we were going on the space shuttle.

BABY MAKES THREE

Readying a boat for a child when you haven't even had one – never mind sailed with one – was an interesting undertaking. Like most expectant mothers, I went to Babies R Us, grabbed a scanner and roamed the store to create a registry. As I walked through aisles of oversized cribs, playpens and car seats, I thought, "I don't need this and I don't need that, and I can't fit this and I can't fit that."

TIFFANY MILLERMax and Dad spend some quality time.

We eventually found smaller European baby products such as a stroller and infant seat that were boat–friendly, but we also decided that we could do without the playpen and electric swing. Thanks to locks on every hatch, the cabin sole has become Max's playpen. So that she won't miss her jumper, we took a creative approach. We ignored the large "Warning – do not use without frame" label on it and left the large metal piece in storage, and instead use a rope and a shackle to hang her Jump Jump from the center hatch. And if we shorten the rope, presto, we have an indoor swing.

Sleeping arrangements onboard are, shall we say, cozy. Max sleeps with us in the V–berth and will move to the quarter berth when she stops nursing. It was easy when she was still only a few weeks old and essentially immobile, but when she learned to crawl, things became complicated. We made a lee cloth, a.k.a. a bunk guard, to keep Max from rolling off the front of the V–berth. When she learned to stand, we raised the lee cloth to the highest level possible, screwing holes into our precious teak.

Still, the sight of Max hanging onto the lee cloth made us uneasy. So did Max's post–nap explorations, which prompted us to wire in a buzzer to a battery–operated motion detector. We now have an alarm system that alerts us when she moves past a specific area. This led to the creation of a new family game we call "Busted!" When we hear the alarm, we run to the V–berth, just in time to catch her pulling her books and cloth diapers off the shelves. We yell, "Busted!" and always get a giggle. Sometimes the little Houdini manages to make it around the sensor and has a laugh when she catches us off guard.

TIFFANY MILLERBathtime in a bucket, on deck.

PASSAGE PROBLEMS

Day–to–day life on the boat now seems normal to us, but passage making is another story. The timing of Max's birth in late October would have meant leaving New York in winter, and as this was not a viable option, my husband relocated the boat from New York to northern Florida prior to her birth.

We moved onto Daydream as a family in March and set sail in late April. The first leg of our journey was spent inching down the Intracoastal Waterway from St. Augustine, Florida to Key West. The pre–child cruising fantasy of Max playing on the cabin sole and sleeping most of the day was indeed just a fantasy. Feeding, changing and entertaining her make for a full–time job. In addition, the small waves that we previously ignored now made us constantly worry, leaving almost no down time for either of us. We longed for the easy outside runs, where we could let the wind vane and autopilot do some of the work and give us each a break.

Once outside, however, we longed for the easy days of the Intracoastal. Max's birth month had us sailing out of season, so the weather we encountered called for more hand steering than anticipated. For the second time we found ourselves with one parent single–handing while the other was single parenting.

While Max thankfully has her sea legs, I had forgotten what it's like to sail without the patch. My treatment options are limited: Scopolamine is moderately safe while nursing, but Bonine is not and Dramamine knocks me out. This leaves relief bands and ginger, which offer only partial reprieve. As a parent, being seasick is not an option. We now choose shorter outside runs and wait for ideal conditions. We have also prioritized the installation of air vents.

TIFFANY MILLER"Well, it's about time you let me take the wheel!"

Socializing is another priority, though a difficult one. I've found online mothers' groups, but we're always on the lookout for other cruising families so Max can play. Unfortunately, so far the families have been traveling in the opposite direction. There are no organized playgroups, and parks seem to be lacking in most Central American harbors, so it's been hard connecting with local children, too. Luckily we have the freedom to alter our plans and can extend our stay in an area where there are children or buddy boat with other cruising families when the opportunity arises.

As I write this, we're five months into our journey, and we have experienced some exhilarating moments that remind me exactly why we undertook this endeavor. The excitement of Max's "firsts" like swimming in the crystal–clear waters, spotting dolphins and turtles and seeing iguanas in their natural habitat are amazing memories.

The years ahead will bring us to some incredible locations. We will be showing Max the remote San Blas Islands, the intricate workings of the Panama Canal and the exotic animals of the Galapagos. The best part is that we will be experiencing every minute of it, from the mundane to the spectacular, as a family.