“When I hear men lament that they have a hard time getting their sweethearts to go cruising with them,” writes one of my Admirals, Mary Verlaque of Iwanda, “I ask what their first sail was like. Rather than an easy sail into a quiet anchorage where they watched the sun set while sharing an intimate glass of wine, the story usually involves white knuckles, wet hair and a feeling of total vulnerability for his would be crewmate.” » Read full column
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When I cast out my lines of communication to the Admirals I hoped would consult with me on this column, the first question I asked them was what the cruising life was for them and what was key for getting into IT. Ironically their answers had a great deal to with home and community, concepts usually associated with living on land. » Read full column My name is Gwen. But onboard our boat Tackless II I’m known as “The Admiral.” Although not bestowed on me by the US Coast Guard, the Navy, or any other military authority, my admiralty is a rank I share proudly with hundreds if not thousands of other women in the cruising fleet. Being an Admiral is not merely a pseudonym for wife, cruising companion, or female-along-for-the-ride, although it is sometimes used that way. Nor is it merely a token title bestowed on “his better half” by the often self-appointed Captain, although it is sometimes used THAT way. No, to me, an Admiral is a woman who has gotten into IT. » Read full column |
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