Finding family, friendship and unexpected heroes on the Great Loop.
by Jordan Bohonek
Traveling full-time with your family certainly sounds idyllic enough, enjoying beautiful views, quality time and no schedule but your own. But drive into a luxury resort with a big RV, a couple of scooters, a Goldendoodle, two kids ready to cannonball into the pool and you’ll soon hear it — that quiet murmur under someone’s breath. “Oh no… they have kids.”
When we transitioned from the road to the water to take on America’s Great Loop, we wondered if the boating community would react the same way. Would seasoned Loopers see us as an intrusion into their mostly retired world?
We didn’t know what to expect. But what we found was a sense of community like we’d never experienced before.
Much of that stems from Harbor Hosts. These unsung heroes are spread all along the Loop, like a secret society of kindness, always ready to lend a hand when you need it most. They didn’t blink when they saw our floating schoolroom. They didn’t sigh when our kids raced down the dock with wide eyes and questions about every line, cleat and crab trap. To the contrary, they opened their boats, shared their stories, taught us tricks of the trade and treated our children like the future cruisers they are.
We’ve had Harbor Hosts hand us printed local maps with handwritten notes for the best family-friendly restaurants. One couple helped us find a mechanic on short notice. Others simply handed us the keys to their personal vehicles so we could make a run to the grocery store or hardware store — complete strangers, trusting Loopers just because they were Loopers, too.
And in one unforgettable moment, a Harbor Host and his wife drove three hours round-trip just to help us replace a melted 50-amp shore power cord that had fused to the pedestal. We were stuck, systems failing, unsure how we’d even get safely through the night without shore power — and this couple showed up, tools in hand, smiles on their faces, asking for nothing in return.
Well, almost nothing.
They happily accepted a wonderful Midwestern steak dinner from our freezer — a small token of appreciation from our family to theirs. Their kindness wasn’t just helpful — it was unforgettable.
As if that weren’t enough, they later made not one, but two airport runs to shuttle our family to and from the boat while we were navigating some of the most remote and logistically challenging parts of Canada. That’s not just helpful. That’s extraordinary.
Magic moments
The Great Loop can be challenging. There are hard days, long locks, weather delays, engine troubles and unpredictable moments that can test your patience and resolve. But the Harbor Hosts are like quiet lighthouses — guiding, steady, always there when you need them. They remind you that you’re part of something bigger.
In a world that often feels fast and digitally disconnected, the Harbor Host network proves that community is alive and well. It’s built on dock lines and diesel, yes, but more importantly it’s built on compassion, camaraderie and a shared respect for the journey.
And if you’re Looping with kids? Don’t worry. You won’t be seen as a burden. Instead, you’ll be seen as hope and a reminder that this tradition and lifestyle isn’t just for today’s cruisers, but the next generation too.
So if you’re preparing to do the Loop, know this: your charts and tide tables matter. Your spare filters and oil jugs matter. But the people? They’re what matter most of all.
And if you ever get the chance to be a Harbor Host yourself — do it. Open your heart, your dock, or just your front seat. Because on the Great Loop, you never know when you’ll be the person who turns someone’s hard day into a story they’ll tell forever.

