The Many Lives of Cypress the Cat

From the shelter to the sea, jungle, and marina

This is Clouds Form Over Land, weekly writing about resilience, imperfectionism, and our relationship to the earth.

Cypress on anchor watch in Portobello, Panama. October 2022.

Azimuth’s fiercest and fluffiest crewmember is called Cypress.

She joined us in San Diego, upgrading from a closet at PetSmart to a modest yacht.

Like many fortuitous life events, the idea was mulled around for a while and the specifics were serendipitous. We were on a walkabout in the strip mall area of town and spotted a giant banner for NATIONAL PET ADOPTION WEEK. Like many couples before us, we went to look and left with the hopes to bring home a furball. A volunteer introduced us to the dozen cats. Eric swatted us from his perch near the door. Two kittens were stealing the show and racking up a long waitlist. One cutie needed a home with another cat, another didn’t get along with dogs. A tabby named Buffy was working the room, darting through tunnels and playing with a ball toy. Scott picked her up and she let out a loud meow. She retreated to her nook on a shelf and we fell into conversation with the volunteer about adopting her while filling out a clipboard of information. The paperwork prompted us to select a dwelling type and we were stumped between recreational vehicle and homeownership. We explained our situation and the many considerations we had thought through to make it a delightful environment for a feline. I come from a family of veternarians and animal lovers and knew not to commit before ready to provide.

The shelter texted a few hours after we had returned to the boat. We were buzzing with excitement and lept at the chance to return to pick her up the same-day. A shopping spree ensued. I’ll never forget returning with a shopping cart to see Scott and our new kitty browsing the many aisles of food options. I even caught him saying, “ok, what would you like for dinner?” At the checkout, the cashier tried hard to sell us on a cat condo — those carpeted tours for perching. We ensured him that our house had plenty of safe things to climb and that we would return next week if the condo was needed. Next we chanced a ride in an Uber, launched the dinghy from the beach, and released our new friend on board.

Cypress spots a bird in her first moments onboard Azimuth. July 2021.

She was named Buffy because her coloring is considered “buff”. It felt like a sweet synchronicity with another Buffy, our favorite chicken at Bay Area Maker Farm. After a few days of trying out the name (and explaining to friends that we hadn’t seen the vampire slayer show), we started brainstorming. We considered nautical and astronomical names, and settled on a tree that’s shaped by the salty air along coastlines.

Our little kitty recently crossed a milestone of four thousand miles at sea. She has joined what I can only assume is an elite group of domestic house cats who have seen dolphins, sea turtles, sloths, and monkeys. She regularly dines on fresh-caught snapper, mahi-mahi, and corcavado, and hunts her own geckos to break up the monotony of kibble and wet food. Cypress knows that when we turn the key, the noisy engine will soon be fired up and that the sound of the windlass after a bout of sloshing around means we’re settling into a calm anchorage immanently. She has been right at hand for numerous maintenance projects, and hasn’t yet learned how to pass handtools.

She does lots of normal cat things too, like meow before settling into a bowl of chow, stalking the ever-changing location of sunspots, and skittering out of sight when a new person comes over. Her favorite hiding spots are under the paddleboard or dinghy when stowed on deck, a place we’ve named “the club house”. She has won over numerous salty fisherman in the Pacific and Caribbean, occasionally getting scraps of the daily catch handed on board. She transited the Panama Canal and took a water taxi for her annual vet checkup.

Cypress has had a few swim lessons and has twice leaped off the dinghy or paddleboard to get back to the mothership. Like an acrobat, or perhaps a Navy Seal, she climbs the wind vane to get back aboard. Cats are natural swimmers, like otters zipping towards dry land.

Her true love is the Cat Dancer toy, delivered across borders by Carla. Her scratch post is some sisal rope wrapped around Azimuth’s mast. She is most content when laying in her bed and bopping a wooden ball toy, and happiest when on deck at night performing her gymnastics routine – leaping from dodger to sail pack to solar panels and back again, before running a lap around the boat. I shared these zoomy antics on Instagram and had a few moments of fame. She watches pelicans and boobies and cormorants and needlefish and anything else moving in interesting ways through air or water. She hosted a one-sided standoff with some mountain goats in the Sea of Cortez and went on daily jungle walks in Bocas del Toro.

Caring for an animal in general and this cat in particular is such a joy – determining what a meow might mean (food, water, bathroom, play) and having the easy ability to deliver any of the options with our attention, resources, and opposable thumbs. Total Cat Mojo by Jackson Galaxy solved a few mysteries from cat evolution. Dogs have a head start on co-existing with human that is estimated to be tens of thousands of years. We’ve found that this little sailor thrives when comfort is balanced with wildness, like going on off-leash walks with us or watching birds zoom over head. When we stayed at a more remote marina, she enjoyed dashing around the lawn and climbing up trees. Now we find ourselves in a more urban environment, and have introduced a leash that allows her to sit outside and watch the world go by, without following her curiosity too far afield.

When the going gets tough at sea, Cypress gets softer. She curls up in a favorite spot and instinctively knows that tension rarely helps get through something hard. She has a twice-daily cycle of playtime, darting from atop our canvas shade cover, into the sails, through a hatch and back again. She continues to be as vocal as when we met her, meowing to signal hellos and bids for assistance.

Cats aren’t known for being particularly adaptable. Many stories are told about difficulties in moving apartments or upsetting routine. We wondered how this may jive with our plans to sail so many miles, but knew there is a long history of cats aboard ships. In fact, one person in Scott’s captain’s license class warned against going to Central America without a cat due to common pests. We have found that the routine of breakfast and dinner, playtime, and a small space is enough for her, and the changing landscapes sets here little brain ablaze. Her curiosity, play, and ease are a model to us humans.

Wishing you a happy holiday season. May we all reach this level of relaxation!

Can Do List:

1. Learn a fact or two about the behavior of an animal in your proximity.

2. Take note of the longest night — solstice — and dream some new dreams as the days grow longer again.

3. Check in on a friend or two. Holiday times bring up complicated emotions and someone may need a listening ear.

4. Consider how to welcome rest, play, and curiosity into your holiday gatherings.

Written in the spirit of not letting what we can’t do get in the way of what we can.

Did you try any of these? I’d love to hear about it.