ABOARD THE BARCHETTA – In a prelude to history, the Tall Ships are assembling in Boston Harbor as The Eagle leads today’s flotilla to meet Old Ironsides.

It’s a day the city won’t soon forget with small boats darting in toward the majestic U.S. Coast Guard ship to snap a watery selfie.

A cool breeze is carrying the ships toward Castle Island for the parade. We’re tailing them all. I’m with Herald staff photographer Stuart Cahill as we follow the pride of nations to the docks.

A flyover is imminent as you witness the choreography planned years ahead come to life.

To our aft is the Mayflower II as it approaches Castle Island. A city tug boats nudged it into place and peeled away to shower the parade in a stream of water from its cannon.

Our past and future is forever tied to this Harbor and it is a fitting tribute today to that economic lifeline. We’re now passing Castle Island!

Two fighter jets just blasted over with the USS Constitution firing off its guns. Amazing!

Full coverage in the Herald! Today, tomorrow and forever Boston!

Reporting via Starlink on the Barchetta (which stands for “small boat,” I had to ask.)

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sandra Bonola, 56, who moved from Connecticut to Charleston, South Carolina, in 2021, then to Beaufort, South Carolina, in 2023, before deciding the South wasn’t right for her. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

I am a native New Englander, born and raised in Connecticut. In late 2021, I started thinking seriously about moving. I’m an empty nester, and thanks to my remote job, I can work from anywhere in the country.

I was drawn to the South because people talked about it as if it were the promised land. The stories made it seem like it had better weather, cheaper homes, and a more affordable cost of living. I bought into that and told myself, “If I move to the South, I can have an easier life, and it won’t be as expensive.”

I decided to move to Charleston, South Carolina. I figured that there, I’d be outside more, near the beach, have a lower cost of living, and have access to the coast. I was also hoping for that small-town vibe and Southern charm.

I packed up the 2,500-square-foot Colonial I had lived in for 20 years and moved. I got rid of a lot of things I no longer needed and put the rest into storage.

I was really hopeful Charleston would be right for me. But about four months after moving there, I realized that almost everything I had hoped for was turning out to be the opposite.

I tested the waters in Charleston first

In Charleston, I stayed in a friend’s apartment and paid rent month to month while I decided whether I wanted to buy a home there. I’m grateful for that setup because it gave me a trial period. In those four months, I learned a lot about Charleston — and about what I actually wanted.

One of the first things I noticed was that everybody seemed to be moving there. The city was crowded, and navigating the downtown area was always challenging. Its streets were also full of traffic — it would take me up to an hour to try to get to downtown Charleston from John’s Island.

The city was also more expensive than I expected. I was somewhat insulated from housing costs because I was renting from my friend, but food, entertainment, and taxes were all much higher than I had anticipated.

The Southern charm I was hoping for also didn’t feel as I expected. Charleston has a big “going out” culture, much of which seems to revolve around where to eat or drink. That’s not really my thing. For me, the city lacked some of the creative flavor I was looking for.

The climate was another big factor. Everyone knows New England can have brutal winters, and I don’t like shoveling snow, so I was eager to get away from that. But after moving South, I realized I had traded brutal winters for brutal summers. It was just so hot.

At first, I thought I just needed time to adjust. But the more I explored Charleston, the more I realized the lifestyle I had imagined didn’t match my reality.

I was getting annoyed, then frustrated, and then I was done.

I tried the South again, but it still wasn’t for me

I didn’t feel like I had anything to lose, so I moved back to Connecticut in 2022. Instead of feeling defeated, I actually felt grateful that I had given Charleston a shot.

For a while, I rented a month-to-month beach house in Connecticut while I looked for a home to buy. But the homebuying search in New England felt bleak. I was trying to downsize, but even the smaller homes came with big-home prices. It made me feel like I might never find what I was looking for.

After house hunting for 14 months in Connecticut, I really wanted to put down roots. The idea of moving to a quieter, more affordable small town was still appealing. So in July 2023, I decided to try the South again — this time in Beaufort, South Carolina, a small town I had explored while living in Charleston.

There, I was able to purchase a beautiful three-bedroom ranch home for $425,000. It was a new build in a planned community.

The house checked a lot of boxes. It was beautiful, new, and far more affordable than what I could have bought in Connecticut. But I still didn’t feel at home in Beaufort.

Affordability is important, but you also need community

In Beaufort, it was so hot that I rarely saw or interacted with my neighbors. People would say hello and then quickly go back inside. I kept thinking, “How am I ever going to socialize here?”

I joke that I’m an OG remote worker because I started working remotely in 2008. Remote work gives you some social interaction, but you still need to get outside and make real connections with people.

I tried to put myself in situations where I could meet people. I looked for yoga classes, local events, and other activities I could join. But what I found was that many people had moved there for family or moved with a spouse, and they mostly kept to themselves.

It lacked the kind of community connection I was used to seeing in the Northeast. I kept trying to make those connections and stay open to it, but it just kept falling flat.

I tell people this story, and sometimes they understand it, and sometimes they don’t. But I knew I was done one morning when I woke up, looked at the ceiling fan in my bedroom, and thought, “I really hate that fan, and I’m losing hope for my life.”

I didn’t appreciate Connecticut’s beauty until I moved back

In 2024, I moved back to Connecticut. Right now, I’m living on the coast in an apartment inside a refurbished Civil War-era hospital. I’m on one of the top floors, so I can see the boats and the water.

I’m still searching for a home and making offers with more confidence. Home prices are high here, but prices down South are creeping up, too.

I’ve started thinking about owning in Connecticut more as an investment in both my future and my happiness. I’ve set a budget of about $800,000 for a home, though some of the homes I’ve been interested in have been closer to $650,000.

I’m seeing possibilities I didn’t see before, and that’s exciting.

Being back in Connecticut has been eye-opening. I don’t think I fully appreciated its beauty until I had something to compare it to.

There’s so much opportunity here. I love the energy and the people. I’ve been taking advantage of the location, too, doing things like hopping on a train to New York to see a show or making more of an effort to connect with friends.

When I think about whether I’d move somewhere else again, I keep coming back to something a photographer once told me in Massachusetts. He had lived in Bali with his family, and I remember asking, “You lived in Bali? Why would you come to Massachusetts?”

I’ll never forget what he told me. He said, “I can go anywhere in the world from an airport, but you really have to realize the ground beneath your feet is beautiful if you choose to see it that way.”

That stayed with me. It changed the way I think about Connecticut and made me realize I needed to take the blinders off. There was beauty right at my feet — I just needed to see it.