Two years after they left Ireland to sail on the Mediterranean, Phillida Eves describes teaching her children - from the compass co-ordinates to a volcano in action.
'Good morning, Barcelona Cruisers! The Net this morning is brought to you by Oisín on Kari. Can I have a radio check please?" Every Monday morning at 9am exactly, Oisín, aged 10, is the host on the Barcelona Cruisers VHF radio network. The people living on their boats in the two marinas in Barcelona tune in to exchange information, arrange social events and buy and sell boaty gear. Another school week has begun.
Almost two years ago we left our Co Galway home to live on our 48-foot Camper Nicholson yacht in the Mediterranean. We wanted a freer, more adventurous way of life and more time with Oisín, Cian (seven) and Soracha (four). We leased out our house, sold some land and bought our 30-year-old yacht, and have no regrets. In summer we cruise in the Mediterranean waters and for the past two winters have been based in Marina Port Vell, Barcelona, where Tedd is working as a marine engineer.
Catalan education is in Catalan, a language distinct from Castellano (Spanish), but the bureaucracy is very hard to untangle. In January 2004, while our school applications were being processed, we did schoolwork on the boat and went on trips to museums, art galleries and the zoo. Soracha, then aged three, wanted to join every school group she saw and screamed when I took her away.
The schools of our choice had no places for the boys but had a vacancy for Soracha. Initially surprised, I realised it made sense. She was the one desperately needing company, and a safe place to play away from the water. She was thrilled to start school. On day one, she flung open the door saying "Hola kids!"
She is so happy at school. She has a hugely long day, from 9am to 5pm (that's the norm here), all in Catalan, and is now speaking "Catlish", a mixture of Catalan and English. Her teachers are so warm - when Soracha has difficulty in understanding they just fill the gaps with hugs and kisses.
Oisín and Cian were very happy and enthusiastic when I suggested home schooling. I am a three-year trained AMI Montessori teacher and have taught in Irish national schools and in Australia, but I firmly believe that that's not necessarily a prerequisite for being a home educator.
We don't follow a specific programme but I make sure that we cover the Irish primary curriculum. We tend to work in themes, as they do in the Catalan system, taking a topic and doing a wide variety of work around that. For example, this week we made our own compass using a needle and a magnet, drew compasses, made a map of the marina, learnt about co-ordinates, and Oisín worked with angles. Somehow this led to the second World War, drawing maps of occupied Europe, and writing a spy story.
All this, with sums and spellings thrown in, and we've had a busy week. We have swapped aon, dó, trí for uno, dos, tres. We do not study the Irish language but have Spanish classes instead. The one disadvantage with home schooling is that we are not as exposed to Spanish or Catalan as we could be, but the truth is that living on the boat is more of a priority to us and takes masses of energy and time.
We do our schoolwork in the mornings and the boys are free in the afternoons.
They read voraciously, cycle on errands to the local ferretería (hardware shop) or go rowing in the dinghy. They have built a fabulous marina out of Lego, measuring 4 x 1 metres, on our concrete dock. They have 30 boats tied up to docks, breakwaters, an opening bridge, offices and a pizza restaurant. Lego still rules here. They do chores on our boat such as filling up water tanks and pumping the bilges.
Every Wednesday they do a drama class with English-speaking children and have put on three splendid performances. This has led to Oisín doing dubbing work on a movie. Oisíhas a boat-cleaning business too, and has saved enough money for a bike and a set of drums - but only for when we are back in a house. The children have made many trilingual (English, Castellano and Catalan) friends through drama and Soracha's school, and every weekend there are extra children here playing on the deck and going on rowing expeditions that sometimes end in hilarious water fights.
Home schooling is very much a lifestyle, and our summer travels are full of stimulating opportunities. Last August we sailed from the small volcanic island of Stromboli off the coast of Italy at 2am so we could see the fiery lava shooting into the sky and rolling down the side of the active volcano. For two days, as we sailed the 300 miles to get there, we read about volcanos.
The boys mark positions on the charts, fill in the logbook and calculate how much fuel to take on board. The children have learnt to be very resourceful and self-reliant and we all have to work well together as a team.
I do find the responsibility of being mother and teacher overwhelming at times and get the heebie-jeebies about Oisín's spelling or Cian's handwriting, but overall I know that they are learning so much and having experiences that most people never get in a lifetime. I have gone through periods of guilt, feeling that we have isolated them from learning the Irish language, but I know that language-learning needs language support at home and consistent attendance at school. Every year in November, Tedd goes away on a yacht delivery trip across the Atlantic and I bring the children home to Ireland.
This summer we plan to leave Barcelona and head east to Turkey where we hope to sail long into the winter season. Home schooling comes into its own again. We know that this adventure must end some time but the scariest idea for us at the moment is having to stop sailing. We love the freedom and the challenges and though it's hard work and uncertain, we have the energy to see it through.
Our family and friends are very important to us. We stay in close contact and love their visits. We are unclear about future plans after the boat, but that's OK. It is such a privilege not to be timetabled and to be sharing our dream with our children.
