Busenbark’s husband, Rick, had a fatal heart attack in December 2011, which upended her life. Clinging to plans they’d made together before his passing, the author, a landscape painter, moved from Peterborough, New Hampshire to the small town of Hampton Falls, and opened an art gallery. Her sorrow had only just begun to abate when her 34-year-old son, Richard, died of a fatal overdose. Having lost two of the most important people in her life in as many years, Busenbark struggled to make sense of it all: “I built the foundation of my adult life on the two men who lay buried, side by side, on that hill in Peterborough,” she writes; “I wondered if my life was one big mistake.” Despite the support of a new partner, Tim, challenges persisted. She was fed up with the long Northeastern winters and disappointed by the gallery’s lack of success, so she decided to start anew in Florida. Tim readily agreed to join her, and the two set about planning a boat trip south via the Intracoastal Waterway. Busenbark recounts each step of their voyage, from preparing a seaworthy boat, named Little Prince (after Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s whimsical tale), to seeking safe harbor during storms. The trip had quieter moments, too, as when they enjoyed vivid sunsets and glasses of wine on the deck. Journey descriptions are interspersed with reflections on grief and growth, as well as historical vignettes from the towns they pass. The book’s strengths lie in Busenbark’s introspection and musings on healing: “Grief is different. Time does not heal the wound. Time grants the experience to learn how to continue to live.” The narrative lags when she deviates from these themes, such as by recounting the minutiae of repairing a generator or the logistics of their route, which blunts the story’s emotional impact and risks losing readers’ interest. Such attention to detail is necessary for planning a long trip, but it sometimes hinders the memoir’s pace.