This is the second half of a 2-part article by Daria Blackwell. You can read part 1 here.

Fast forward to another time and life with Alex, my husband, friend and trusted partner in everything worthwhile.

Fast forward, ...Read more]]> One woman’s cruising…and learning…experience

This is the second half of a 2-part article by Daria Blackwell.
You can read part 1 here.

Daria not crabby at all sailing along on Long Island Sound.

Ratcheting up the confidence level

Fast forward to another time and life with Alex, my husband, friend and trusted partner in everything worthwhile.

Fast forward, too, to finding the courage to take the helm and learn a couple of lessons I’d like to share with you. Hopefully, it’ll help you avoid wasting decades of hard labor.

Here it is:

1) It is a lot easier than I ever imagined to handle a boat under most circumstances

2) It’s so much easier to be at the helm than

• hoisting and trimming the sails (“so long” to the ‘winching wench’)
• cooking under way (which is the only time I ever get seasick)
• dropping and weighing anchor (I know it weighs a lot)
• setting lines and fenders (and having to move them from one side to the other at the last moment when you find out they changed your slip assignment)
• jumping onto the dock from a pitching boat and muscling the boat into the dock against wind and tides.

If I had only known, I would have taken the helm years earlier and not let go.

ESPRESSO at 41 feet was a delight to sail even single handed.

Experience and self confidence is what made all the difference. How did I get there? I planned to overcome my ‘shortcomings’ methodically.

Much like many women, I took lessons, read every book and magazine I could lay my hands on, went to boat shows and learned from those who are out there, like Lin Pardey, Amanda Swan Neal, and Beth Leonard. I met my all time heroine, Ellen MacArthur, at a party just after she finished a single-handed trans-Atlantic crossing. I realized if she could race across oceans single-handed then I could certainly handle cruising.

But I had to “do it” and prove it to myself first. As I mentioned, I had often taken the helm underway while cruising. I could tack and jibe, hold a course upwind and downwind, and otherwise manage a boat underway expertly. It was the starts and stops that were daunting for some odd reason.

Practice makes for confidence

I started by taking the helm while mooring, which turned out to be so ridiculously easy that I was startled. (Perhaps I’d learned from all the mistakes I’d witnessed over the years.)

Next, I practiced driving the boat forward and stopping it, then backing and stopping to see what it would do. I next attempted docking under power while the wind was calm, then worked my way to docking with the wind blowing, the tide running, and approaches more challenging – like coming in aft-to into a slip. Piece of cake. I was good at it. (Better than my husband but shhhhh don’t tell him.) In fact, I was always so prepared that it just seemed easy.

That’s when I realized that the reason many people have problems is that they come in unprepared. They don’t have their dock lines set, they are still fumbling with fenders, they come in too fast, and they don’t observe the natural forces – wind and currents. If you come in prepared, your chances of getting it right are pretty high unless nature takes its toll in conditions you couldn’t have predicted. Then, anyone would have difficulty. But that’s not the usual situation.

Ask yourself, what’s the worst that can happen? You’ll miss the mooring and have to try again. Just don’t foul the prop on the mooring line and you’ll be fine. Work your way up. Try docking in calm conditions, in slack water, going very slowly to learn how your boat behaves. Go a little faster if you lose steerage, slower if you’re uncomfortable. Don’t let anyone intimidate you. You’re at the helm. You’ll soon get a good sense of the boat’s momentum – how long it takes her to accelerate and slow down, both in forward and reverse. Drive her around in reverse in an empty harbor in both directions just to see how she acts. Most boats have a little sashay action (prop walk) in one direction which can act to your advantage if you know about it.

Once you get that one under your belt…contemplate what happens if the engine quits? What’s plan B? Can you sail her up to an unoccupied mooring without auxiliary power? You bet you can! It’s not so hard once you’ve done it. Just furl your headsail then point her into the wind, let the mooring come right alongside toward you. Walk toward it, pick up the line, walk it to the bow, secure the mooring line, and drop the sails. Piece of cake. Anchoring under sail is even easier.

Daria racing against her husband on an Ideal 18…the perfect small keelboat for confidence building.

One thing that helped a lot was practice sailing up to a mooring and alongside a dock in a small keelboat, an Ideal 18, as part of a ladies racing program at our club. That was a tremendous confidence booster because I learned I could handle a boat without relying on the engine. It was another critical turning point. With this knowledge, I understood that it is not much different with a 41 foot sloop than it is with an 18 footer. The momentum is a little different but the principles are the same.

Now one of my biggest fears was conquered. If I couldn’t start the engine, I could still bring in the boat safely. Armed with this knowledge, I was free to sail on my own, without any supervision, and without relying on anyone else to bail me out if I got into trouble. And I could do it all on my own if I had to.

The last step was being out there by myself. The first time I went out for a sail alone on our Frers 41 was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. I was a little nervous I must admit, but more excited than nervous. It was a beautiful day. The wind was a steady 10 knots, the sky was blue, the sun was bright and the air warm. As I checked the oil, started the engine, and dropped the mooring lines, I felt this enormous sense of freedom. Then, I hoisted the sails, killed the engine, and headed out into the Sound. It was so quiet. I could do this. I could sail away all on my own, into my own world for a few hours and the world wouldn’t end. In fact, I liked it so much I kept going out on my own whenever I got the chance.

Delivering ALERIA, a Bowman 57, to her winter home. Fall sailing at its best! Brisk and refreshing.

The confidence coming from experience at the helm is what has made all the difference to me. The most surprising aspect is that I’ve recently learned that I have become a role model for friends and for women I don’t even know. I’ve had women come to me and say, “You’ve made me realize that I should have taken the helm long ago, if only for safety’s sake so I could do it if I had to.” I had no idea people were watching.

So where am I now?

Alex and I, with Onyx, sailed off across the North Atlantic from Nova Scotia to Ireland where we encountered six gales and avoided one strong storm. Then we crossed again to the Caribbean where we had a steering failure that took us 24 hours to fix. And on our third crossing back to Europe we had to motor a lot with little wind. I was at the helm responsible for our entire world for half the distance. I was essentially single-handing a 57-foot boat, because when I was on watch, Alex was asleep. I was in charge of our entire world and comfortable in that role.

I studied diesel mechanics and weather prediction. I obtained a long range radio license, CPR and first aid certifications, and advanced coastal navigation certificate. With each accomplishment, I checked off another misgiving. I practiced it all until I was comfortable sailing on my own.

I now have a 100 ton USCG captain’s license. I can’t just fix an engine, but I can diagnose a problem and figure out a solution. I can plot our way in the absence of electronics and in the presence of fog. I can operate any radio – VHF, SSB, and HAM. I can route us around weather systems, prepare for the worst when it arrives, and hopefully get us through it if we get caught in it. I’m not an expert in any of these things, but I am competent and confident in my ability to respond responsibly in a tough situation.

Today, Alex and I share it all.. We both need to know how to do everything on board – at least enough to deal with a problem. That way, if something happens to one of us, the other will still be able to get us to safety. And that goes both ways. I still do the provisioning, but I’m a helmsman, tactician, and navigator, and I can hold my own in discussions with tugboat, fishing boat and tanker captains.

If for no other reason than being able to get into port safely should you have to, you should always be willing to take the helm under normal circumstances and practice intimidating manoeuvres. I hope this top 10 countdown of reasons ‘why you should take the helm’ inspires you to grab that tiller or wheel the next chance you get.

Top ten reasons why women should take the helm:

10. You won’t have to cook under way (and someone else will be getting seasick below decks)

9. You’ll avoid all the work of setting and adjusting lines and fenders for docking, jumping onto the dock from a pitching boat, and muscling the boat into the dock against wind and tides.

8. Someone else will hoist the sails while you steer steadily into the wind

7. Your navigator will be running back and forth to check radar, read charts, find the next mark, plot positions, and get stuff to work while you keep a steady course and double check their work

6. No more winching…you’ll just calmly instruct the crew to tack, jibe, or trim

5. You won’t have to be flogged by sheets and sails because your crew will see to it if there’s a problem

4. You can impress the guys at the yacht club if you perform an expert manoeuvre while they’re watching

3. You can ask someone else to weigh the anchor

2. You can decide your own destination and timetable

1. No one can yell at you if you’re in charge

But seriously, the most important reason is so you can when you need to. See you out there! Remember the old, “Just do it!”

About Daria Blackwell

Daria Blackwell is a USCG licensed Captain. She and her husband Alex, and cruising kitty Onyx, have crossed the Atlantic three times in three years aboard their Bowman 57 ketch Aleria, spending years cruising the Caribbean and Atlantic islands as well as the American and European coasts. They are now in Ireland planning their next adventure.

Daria is a proud member of the Ocean Cruising Club Committee, Seven Seas Cruising Association (cruising station for Ireland), American Yacht Club and Mayo Sailing Club.

The Blackwells are co-authors of Happy Hooking – The Art of Anchoringwhich has received excellent reviews in the sailing press. They periodically conduct their Happy Hooking webinar for Seven Seas University.

Their website is www.CoastalBoating.net, “the boaters’ resource for places to go and things to know”.

Also on this website

• How we learn: All posts
• More posts by Daria Blackwell:
  - Why it’s better for women to take the helm - Part 1
  - Chance encounters between ships and whales Part 1 & Part 2
  - Dancing in the Harbour
  - What I like best about cruising? Passages and anchorages: a world of your own

This is the first half of a 2-part article by Daria Blackwell.

There is no doubt that many women have been reluctant to take the helm. But based on personal observation, times are changing. I’ve been seeing more women ...Read more]]> One woman’s cruising…and learning…experience

This is the first half of a 2-part article by Daria Blackwell.

The author at the helm of EXPRESSO, a 41 foot German Frers-designed sloop.

There is no doubt that many women have been reluctant to take the helm. But based on personal observation, times are changing. I’ve been seeing more women at the helm, occasionally with no one else in evidence on board. That is encouraging because it means women are finally getting the confidence to go out there and sail without fear.

Handling a boat with the confidence to get yourself, your passengers, and your vessel to safe harbor is a safety consideration you can’t afford to ignore. That’s why the Suddenly Alone seminars are so popular.

But going to a seminar is not enough. You have to get the experience of actually handling the boat under challenging circumstances. I’ll let you in on a little secret. If I had known how much easier it is to be at the helm than in any other job on the boat I would have taken it up decades sooner.

A boat of my own

My first sailboat…a Hobie 18.

I first learned to sail at 15 when a friend taught me how to handle a Sunfish on Lake George in the Adirondacks . After that first fateful summer, I didn’t sail again for a few years until I started renting Hobie 16s on beaches and lakes all over.

One formative experience occurred when I was 19 and in the Bahamas with my roommate. The ocean was calling to me and Hobie cats were my ticket out there. It turned out to be both a funny story and a serious lesson, as most sailing experiences are. My roommate was a non-sailor, so I gave her the basic instruction package onshore. “A sailboat heels and when it does, we need to hike out to balance it.” “Oh no problem,” she said, “I’ve seen them do it on TV.”

We head out and catch a nice breeze. The Hobie starts to heel and I tell my friend to prepare to hike out. Instead, she jumps overboard. I am totally stunned. Now, I’ve got to stop the boat and do an MOB – “madwoman over board” – procedure. Meanwhile, she thinks she sees a barracuda and starts screaming in panic. It’s total pandemonium. Somehow, I managed to get her aboard, return her to shore, and go off on my own for the remainder of the hour. Seems she thought we were going to flip over so she jumped off just in case.

That’s how I learned my first valuable lessons about practicing manoeuvres that you’ll need to be good at under duress.

It wasn’t until I was married that I fulfilled the dream of a boat of “my own”. We bought a Hobie 18 which we trailered up and down the eastern seaboard from Cape Cod to North Carolina. My role, however, was crew and I rarely had the opportunity to helm, even though I co-owned the boat. So the dynamic changed from my old Hobie days, where it was just me and the boat and the sea.

Stepping Up

At the helm of NOTORIOUS, a Sabre 36, twice the size of the previous boat.

Our next venture was chartering keelboats for day sailing, first J24s on Chesapeake Bay and then a 30 footer in the BVI. We sailed daily out of Virgin Gorda but still no overnights.

Then I took lessons at J-World in Newport and got my basic keelboat certification. Now I knew I could handle a keelboat on my own.

Our next charter involved an agent who convinced us to step up to a bigger boat, a 32’ sloop. We took a long weekend and ventured out overnight, picking up a mooring in a neighboring inlet. I will never forget that experience as I hung on to that mooring line with all my strength while the wind tried to yank my arms out of their sockets. You see, my now ex-husband insisted that you should approach a mooring with the wind not against it. On the third attempt, I managed to get a line on the cleat.

That weekend, despite the challenges, the bug bit hard. Swinging on the mooring and rocking gently, I had never felt more comfortable any place else. On deck at night, I realized that it had been years since I had actually looked at the night sky. There was beauty here that one cannot experience in a city. The sea around me was teaming with life. Phosphorescence was trailing behind fish and crabs swimming gracefully through the dark water. It was magical.

Sailing the Chesapeake on a threatening day.

Soon we were the proud owners of a Sabre 36. We kept her on the Chesapeake and cruised every weekend. I started dreaming of sailing to exotic destinations, except for one small problem. Although I was often taking the helm while underway, I was just not at the helm at crucial moments. I had never come in to a dock, I was not sure I could anchor, I had never shortened sail, and I certainly wouldn’t have thought to trouble shoot an engine problem. My ex-husband was the kind of man who believed it was his job to handle the boat, and I lacked the confidence to insist on doing any of it myself. Does this sound familiar? Yet, I was the one dreaming of sailing off to distant shores and taking up cruising as a lifestyle.

With the end of that marriage came the temporary end of the dream. I had to sell the boat. During the process, I slept onboard and took her out with the help of friends, but I wasn’t confident enough to just take her out myself. Instead, I put her on the market and signed her over. I cried all the way from Annapolis to New Jersey, certain that my dreams of sailing off to foreign lands were forever gone.

Why didn’t I take the helm and keep the boat?

NOTORIOUS, the boat of lost dreams.

So what is it that stopped me and countless other women from taking the helm when it counted the most? Why do we take responsibility in business and at home, but not on the boat? I was at the helm, as President, of a major advertising agency. So, why didn’t I believe I could handle a boat on my own? Looking back on what I know now, I don’t get it. I just don’t know why I was so intimidated.

Perhaps we women just didn’t have the role models. Or maybe we are afraid of exposing our lack of experience. Perhaps we just don’t like being yelled at. Whatever the reason, we just don’t take the helm when it matters often enough. Men just do it and worry about the consequences later. At the time, I didn’t believe I could manage that boat alone. Now I know differently. Were it to happen now, no one could part me from that boat I sold nor the dream it represented.

Part 2 of this article is here

About Daria Blackwell

Daria Blackwell is a USCG licensed Captain. She and her husband Alex, and cruising kitty Onyx, have crossed the Atlantic three times in three years aboard their Bowman 57 ketch Aleria, spending years cruising the Caribbean and Atlantic islands as well as the American and European coasts. They are now in Ireland planning their next adventure.

Daria is a proud member of the Ocean Cruising Club Committee, Seven Seas Cruising Association (cruising station for Ireland), American Yacht Club and Mayo Sailing Club.

The Blackwells are co-authors of Happy Hooking – The Art of Anchoringwhich has received excellent reviews in the sailing press. They periodically conduct their Happy Hooking webinar for Seven Seas University.

Their website is www.CoastalBoating.net, “the boaters’ resource for places to go and things to know”.

Also on this website

• How we learn: All posts
• More posts by Daria Blackwell:
  - Part 2 of ‘Why it’s better for women to take the helm’
  - Chance encounters between ships and whales Part 1 &Part 2
  - Dancing in the Harbour
  - What I like best about cruising? Passages and anchorages: a world of your own

It was clear: never darken the ...Read more]]> The captain put me in charge of getting us from point A to point B. I was responsible for upping anchor, route planning, navigating and dropping the hook at our destination.

My cruising life started and nearly ended in 2007. It just wasn’t what I thought or hoped it would be.

It was clear: never darken the boarding ladder again, or find out for myself what I wanted from cruising. My own approach to living in this watery world for months at a time.

I wondered what other cruising women were thinking about and doing on their boats. So I started to ask them. One of the areas we talked about was educating ourselves.

Common amongst the women I spoke with was a learning style based on doing.

Explanations, instructions, words, only go so far. Perhaps it’s my own conclusion but the women seemed similar to me in this regard.

Crawling into the engine room to clean the shower pump filter. A small but vital job.

I sensed, too, that explanations and instructions could be an obstacle to learning – especially when offered by a spouse. Not to be negative about the spouse’s efforts and intent. It can simply be a mismatch of teaching and learning styles – a situation I’m familiar with.

It is absolutely necessary to immerse myself in whatever subject area of sailing that I wish to learn. I cannot standby and hope to learn. Some observation is important but I have realized that unless I force myself to read weather books so I can be part of weather discussions; take time to pour over charts; pay attention to local knowledge when it’s being shared; I cannot really be part of route planning.

An impediment to learning shared by more woman than just me is a spouse who is more knowledgeable.

The Captain agrees to dock lines and duct tape to restrain himself from taking over.

It’s sometimes easier to abdicate and let the more competent person do it. And sometimes the more competent person has a hard time letting go and giving the student space to learn. It can be a difficult balance to find. When something needs to be done now and done right, it’s not a time to chance a mistake.

However, most moments on the boat are not like that and there is room for learning from one’s mistakes.

The challenge is for the student to be persistent in their own learning. Watch, read, talk to others, and try. Don’t stop trying. Insist with yourself and others that you will keep on trying. Above all, resist berating yourself for not knowing or making a mistake. Lock your successes firmly in your mind and touch on them often.

There are a few key knowledge areas that came up in my discussions with women.

Sailing

Two women I talked to really stand out for me.

The first one, a single hander, learned to sail on the 25 foot sailboat her and her husband bought when their kids were young. They would head out to their boat on weekends. Saturday morning was her time to take the boat out alone. She’d try this, that and everything in between as she figured out how to set the sails, manage the lines and navigate. Later, she’d talk to her husband about her morning solo experience and sort out any questions she had.

Years later the marriage ended. The husband didn’t want the sailboat but she did. She continued to take the kids out on sailing weekends. Her sailing and boat handling knowledge continued to grow – as it’s bound to when you spend time with the boat on the water.

Today, one of her grown sons owns a boatyard. And she single hands her 42 ft sloop throughout the Bahamas and Caribbean, taking crew on board for passages as needed.

I’m wowed. But I totally get it. I could see myself taking a small sail boat out alone on the lake we live near at our land based home. I could mess around and if I couldn’t get myself back to shore I could radio for help. (Always good to have a fall back position!) I could practice reading the wind, setting the sails, tacking and jibing, coming along side bouys, to my heart’s content. No one to critique or offer up a flow of words (well meaning advice) that I just can’t process when I’m in my “experiential learning” mode. I could bask in the glory of making and solving my own mistakes. It’s what I do best. So why not do it on a sailboat?

I have in fact met another female single hander moored at St. Augustine, Florida who subscribes to the trial and error learning method herself. And she knows other women single handers that do, too! I’m not alone! I want to sail away with these women! I ask her if she was afraid of running into stuff. She tells me it’s a foregone conclusion that you will hit things. And she has run into things. So have her single handing friends. No major catastrophes ensued. It’s ok. (If you think about, many male captains have at least one story of running into a dock, shallow spot, wall, boat, etc. and have lived to laugh about it.)

The second woman that stands out in my conversations about how women learn to sail their boats, took a sailing course. It was a very good course, she says, and co-ed. When it came to the hands on sailing, an interesting – but not totally surprising – thing happened. The men wanted to step up and do all the “heavy” work. She had to literally elbow them aside saying “I came here to learn”. It was the right thing – the only thing – for her to do, in my books. At the same time it takes courage and decisiveness. Hmmm, yes it does.

Many other women have talked to me about the value of the women only sailing courses they’ve taken. I intend to do that one day but, as yet, have not had the time and money. And I’m getting more interested in the idea of a small sailboat on our lake back “home”.

Charts, Route Planning and Navigating

Consulting the charts and cruising guide before setting out on the next leg of our trip.

At first, sea sickness kept me from studying the charts. Charts are key, though! (And in this digital age, many would argue that so is the chart plotter.) Charts are to sailing as road maps are to driving and topographical maps are to wilderness travel.

So I started looking at the charts when we were at anchor or on a very calm passage. I discovered that my background in using topographical maps for hiking and canoe trips, compasses, and latitudes and longitudes gave me a good start with the charts.

Charts can’t be read in isolation from weather (primarily wind direction and speed), low and high tides, and sunrise and sunset. All these factors are woven into an intricate blend of information for sailors’ decisions. And provide the fodder for a favourite cruiser discussion – where and when to go next.

I found, too, that I use the charts slightly differently than my spouse. For example, I rely more on latitude and longitude readings, and topographical features. I wouldn’t have discovered this if I had tried to use charts exactly the way he does.

My friend Jo on s/v Serenade works out her routes with paper, pencil and straight edge – a skill she acquired in the classroom and with practice.

A woman sailor told me that she preferred to rely on one source of information for navigating. Multiple sources just confused things for her.

She relied on a handheld Garmin and sight, along with paper charts. She had navigated from Florida south to the Jumentos in the Bahamas and did not appear lost, so her system worked. (I think of the costly chart plotters I’ve seen at the West Marine store. They look like flat screen TVs to me. I will allow that perhaps they are worth every penny to some, but at present they seem like overkill to me.)

I’m glad to hear about the good service her handheld Garmin has done. We have one on board for back up to the modestly sized chart plotter mounted at the helm station.

Electrical Systems

The charger/inverter controller is where it’s at if you want to know how your system is charging. Ours is installed by the electrical panels. There is no shortage of dials and switches.

One woman I talked to is reading a manual on marine electrical systems to educate herself on how things work! Impressed, my eyebrows raised, all I can say is ‘wow”!

For the first few years, my knowledge was limited to understanding that batteries are recharged when the engine or generator is running and that we need a couple hours a day of either (or a mix) to keep electricity flowing. And I understood – as I do now – that electricity conservation is a must. Perhaps that’s the first thing to understand about electricity.

Another woman I spoke to dealt with electricity knowledge by not needing it. She owns a boat with her grandfather. Together, they set the goal of not turning on the engine. She is the first woman I’ve met that is nearly exclusively wind powered. She has a solar panel to power the vhf radio for communication, and a single side band receiver and am/fm radio from which they try to get weather information. Simplicity. Of course, the trade-offs are less weather information opportunities, and no cold beer, butter, and hot showers. Some days I bet the trade-offs are worth it, and some days not.

I’ve started reading books about electricity, batteries, inverters and chargers. Last week I went to a boaters’ seminar on electrical systems. (Before the seminar started a man sitting beside us said to me I was probably there to learn how to use the blow dryer. He had the good grace to realize he probably shouldn’t have said that.)

The next day I took notes as my husband set up the generator to charge the batteries. My next challenge is to do the set up myself. (All boats are set up differently – ours is moderately complex.) I can now have a basic conversation with my spouse about our own system aboard. Last year, I crawled into the far reaches of engine room to check the water level in the batteries. Not rocket science but, hey, it’s a start. (At the same time I made a foray into plumbing maintenance. I removed, cleaned and replace the filter basket in the line that drains the shower. )

At this point in my conversations with women, I know I’m in good company when I say I need to learn about this sailing life by doing, more so than watching or being told.

It can be a struggle to not sit back passively and let others do the things that right now seem too challenging. For me, though, learning is the only way I’m going to really get into this cruising life.

About Karen Bergman

A caricature of me my former colleagues gave to me when I retired last year. Sailing /cruising seems so exotic to those who haven’t done it.

I was born and raised in southern Alberta, Canada. For over 22 years I lived in Canada’s Arctic where my children were born and raised. My first adventure on the ocean was in an open boat to fish and hunt seals. In early spring we travelled on the frozen ice by snowmobile and komatik (a sled with runners). (No, we didn’t live in igloos! And, yes, we had electricity and running water.)

When I was young, I had romantic dreams about sailing around the world. I didn’t really think about how that would work given I get motion sick on a swing. My first adventure on a sail boat in 2007 saw us traveling around the Florida panhandle in a 32 foot Pearson, Island Breezes. I remember the heat, nausea, lightning storms and a water spout bearing down on us when our motor was disabled. Our max speed was 1 knot. I was terrified.

And unimpressed by the whole thing. I thought there had to be more to this cruising life. Next year we cruised in the Bahamas. That was more like it and I found enough in it to stick with cruising. We’ve been back to the Bahamas several times and also cruised (as crew on another boat) in south and central America. Currently, our cruising platform is m/v Popeye, a 42 foot Tolleycraft.

I retired from a wonderful public service career in 2011. I live now in southern British Columbia, Canada with my partner Dwight on 5 acres of solid land with mountains, lakes and rivers nearby. Between us, we own 9 boats, including the canoe and kayaks. I have three children and two granddaughters.

I’ve just started blogging again: Karen Blogs Again.

More on this website

• Debbie Leisure learns to sail her boat single-handed: Learning to handle the boat alone after a husband’s death.
• All posts in “How we learn” : Women tell us how they have learned the skills they need to sail and cruise.
  
• “Learning to sail”: Women & Cruising resources
  
• What do women like most about sailing their boats? by Karen Bergman
  

I’m a North-American woman in my late twenties, and for the last several years I’ve worked on and off on tall ships, mostly doing education work with youth. Right ...Read more]]>

“Wow! How did you end up doing that?!“
These are the words I’ve come to expect from new acquaintances after telling them what I do for a living.

I’m a North-American woman in my late twenties, and for the last several years I’ve worked on and off on tall ships, mostly doing education work with youth. Right now I’m in Tasmania doing the same, and truly having the experience of a lifetime on a big sturdy brigantine at the threshold of the Southern Ocean.

I did not grow up on the water, and until I was 20 had never myself experienced what has now become the predominant force in my life: the thrill of being driven through a frothy chop, sails tight against a steady breeze, with the sun happily bearing witness to this greatest of partnerships between man and nature.

Where the obsession began! A view from the cross-trees on my first tall-ship, the Schooner Isaac H. Evans of Rockland, ME. (2004)

And yet, HERE I AM, on another boat-based journey, once again following this passion to a new part of the globe. I’m not saying that this life is easy, comfortable or lucrative (although parts of the industry certainly are). It is, however, doable…if you truly want it. For those that do, but don’t know where to begin, I think tall-ships are a great way to get your start. It’s definitely not for everybody, but as a launch pad, it has a lot of advantages.

The goods

Tall ships are a great place to learn, and are a relatively easy industry in which to find work. Many are operated by non-profits that specialize in education, and thus are perfectly suited to train newbies. Plus, they often can’t pay very much, so they’re always looking for enthusiastic new recruits!

Camaraderie is the name of the game on these traditional boats, not only because of the serious teamwork required to make them go, but because of the hardships you’ll certainly have to endure together. So if you’re looking for a “professional” community to welcome you with open arms, this is it.

The questionables

• The pay, as mentioned, is often pretty low, although room and board is almost always covered.
• The culture, to some, can seem quite base (best not to be easily offended by swears or bodily functions), and, oddly, also stuck-up (try challenging the efficiency of traditional methods to a tall-ship sailor!).
• The most important caveat that I would give anyone getting their start on tall-ships is: Don’t think that being able to crew a tall-ship means that you know how to sail. To really understand sailing, you’ll eventually have to find your way to a small boat, and sail it yourself.

The connections

Here are some websites that have become a standard part of my seasonal tall-ship job-search. My best advice at this point is to explore, inquire and check back often!

• Tall Ships America Billet Bank
  This is the best resource I’ve found for hunting jobs on tall-ships. When you’re in the heat of the search, check this daily!
• Maine Windjammer Association
  This website contains links to 13 of the almost 20 schooners (and one ketch!) that operate in mid-coast Maine June-September. Apply in January. Spring outfit usually starts in April. The Maine coast is one of the most beautiful and interesting places to sail in the world.
• Sail Training International
  I’ve never actually followed up on a lead from this one, but they do seem to have an active billet bank. Most of the postings are for Captains or mates, but on occasion there will be openings for volunteers with less experience. Mostly it’s just fun to imagine sailing off to exotic places…

About Stephanie Katz

Stephanie is a young woman from the Northeastern United States who was swept off her feet by a schooner at the ripe age of 21, never to be the same. After attempting to lead a normal life on land for some years, she finally came to her senses and ran away to the sea.

Today she spends most of her time pursuing a career in the maritime industry, writing her blog www.shesails.net, and making sure her life is as jam-packed and fun-filled as possible.

How did you get started sailing?
Let us know.
Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.

I spent last winter in Miami, Florida working and saving for my next big sail.

My goal was to sail to the Bahamas, spend some time exploring the sandy beaches and shallow banks, and then head north, offshore, bound for Martha’s Vineyard. I had summer plans for sailing on schooners in Maine and the Vineyard.

But having ...Read more]]>

I spent last winter in Miami, Florida working and saving for my next big sail.

My goal was to sail to the Bahamas, spend some time exploring the sandy beaches and shallow banks, and then head north, offshore, bound for Martha’s Vineyard. I had summer plans for sailing on schooners in Maine and the Vineyard.

But having a deadline is seldom a good idea when traveling under sail. Many things can delay a departure, and this winter I was met with one delay after another.

Finances at that time were a struggle for me. I had been taking transient jobs at various ports just to keep food on the table so I could keep sailing.

But when I was nearly ready to set sail again, my engine failed. When I tried to start it, black smoke poured from the tailpipe, a knocking sound came from the engine compartment, then a sputter, and finally silence.

Being the DIY kind of person that I am, I searched my reference books, owner’s manual, and even Google for a solution to the problem.

“Maybe it’s an injector problem,” I thought after reading as much as I could. So, I removed the injectors, cleaned and replaced them. Still the engine wasn’t working.

My boyfriend Ben was traveling with me in his own pocket cruiser and we both were eager to set sail again.

“Maybe it’s the fuel pump,” he suggested. So, together we removed the fuel pump and sent it in to be tested. Of course, the tests said it was fine.

Finally, I decided to contact a mechanic.

The first mechanic I had aboard Daphne never spoke to me. Instead, he directed all his questions to Ben and explained what was going on only to Ben. Even when Ben said, “Ask Teresa, it’s her boat.” or “Teresa knows better because she has been working on it,” he still spoke only to Ben. So, I decided not to continue working with him.

I called a second mechanic. When I spoke to Jim and explained the problem, sounds, and what tests I had done, I didn’t mention Ben’s name at all. Jim was polite, helpful, and spoke to me like I was knowledgeable and could understand him, which I could.

When Jim came aboard Daphne to test the compression, we both thought that it would test out fine. The engine was relatively new, had low hours, and looked great. If it tested fine, then we had to continue to explore what the problem could be. If the compression was poor despite the tests I had already done, then Jim said it would most likely be a bent connecting rod, which is a costly and extensive project to fix.

Unfortunately the compression in one cylinder was down by over fifteen percent.

Jim was leaving for vacation in just a few days and could not take on this project.

He suggested other mechanics and estimated that it would cost over $1,000 and I would have to remove the engine so they could work in their shop (since Daphne’s engine room is so small no one can fit in it and if they could, they would likely get seasick even at anchor!).

The news was upsetting. I felt like my entire plans and all that I had saved and worked for in the past few months were being taken from me. There had to be an alternative.

Lucky for me, I chose the right mechanic this time. Jim sensed my disappointment and offered an alternate plan. He suggested that I could order the parts I needed from him and he would coach me through the process of changing the connecting rod myself. And that he did! Even when Jim was on vacation, he still answered my phone calls when I needed clarification on the next step.

Soon I was calling him to say “I did it!”

Only $400 later, and a few extra days I was on my way to the Bahamas.

Ben and I both had a lot of fun with this project, and together, with Jim’s help we learned a lot about diesel engines and a lot about ourselves. I’m lucky to have a partner like Ben and to have found a mechanic like Jim.

Even though engines and mechanics seem to be a man’s world, both of them treated me like the capable woman that I am. In fact, on several occasions, I was more suited for the task! Being small, with little hands, I could fit in the engine room and manipulate little parts.

Ben was eager to learn about engines and would have done all the work himself if I had let him.

But because Daphne is my boat, and should anything happen when he wasn’t around, I needed to learn the skills too. And it’s a good thing that I did! Only days later, when I was alone and sailing Daphne across the Gulf Stream, I had to bleed the engine in the middle of the night in bucking seas!

For a few weeks, from the sound of the first engine knock, it was a rollercoaster of ups and downs. “How can I afford this? Will I ever get to the Bahamas, or home?” I thought.

But in the end, it was just as educator Kurt Hahn meant when he said, “Your disability is your opportunity.”

About Teresa Carey

Teresa Carey is a USCG Captain, Oceanography educator, and writer.

She has lived aboard many boats and has sailed coastal and offshore the entire coastal US, Bahamas, Caribbean, parts of Canada, St. Lawrence, and the Great Lakes. In 2008, she gave up the lubberly life and moved aboard Daphne, which she sailed solo for many years, chronicling her journey in her well-received blog “Sailing, Simplicity, and the Pursuit of Happiness” (www.sailingsimplicity.com).

Teresa is being honored for her inspired writing with an invitation to a TED conference, where she will be a featured speaker (www.tedxtraversecity.com).

This summer Teresa plans to team up with another sailor and a movie production company. This journey will take her north to the arctic where she will film an eco-documentary on icebergs and climate change called “One Simple Question” (www.simplequestionmovie.com).

Read also on this website

• How we learn: Women tell us how they have learned the skills they need to sail and cruise.
• The Engine Room (Admiral’s Angle column #22): What women need to know about their engine rooms and boat systems and why

More information (external links)

• Teresa Carey’s blog: “Sailing, Simplicity, and the Pursuit of Happiness” (www.sailingsimplicity.com)

What “opportunities” has sailing provided YOU?

Let us know.

Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.

Being the youngest of 5 and having lost my mother to her nursing career, I tagged along behind the Captain (my father) and learned by ...Read more]]>

I have learned from many sailors over the years, but none so much as the years I spent in the cockpit of my father’s ‘old classic woodies’ on the Great Lakes.

Being the youngest of 5 and having lost my mother to her nursing career, I tagged along behind the Captain (my father) and learned by doing; whether we were trading in old nautical antiques in the flats, scraping and re-packing the seams in the dead of winter or heading off on long legs to Canadian islands.

From an early age, I was expected to take my turn at the helm, climb out on the 8′ bowsprit to un-hank the yankee in a pitching sea, roll down the mains’l jiffy-reefing, climb the mast to reconfigure some tangled halyard and name the constellations on a star-lit night.

I never knew if he appreciated that tiny toe-headed, tom-boy that loved the sea as much as he, for he spent a life time mentoring and coaching as a profession and avocation…even receiving a 50 year honor from the Red Cross Sailing program for his services in Cleveland (as well as 37 years teaching/coaching in the public schools).

I knew how deeply imbedded his lessons were upon instructing my own sailing students from Camp LeJeune Marine Base in tying the four basic sailing knots and fully expecting them to tie them down under 5 seconds (been there when those seconds counted).

They enjoyed my stories of being set at the helm at 8 years old and being expected to hold my course while he went down for a nap, only to hear him bellow from below if my heading was off 5 degrees on either side.

But it was after we rebuilt that small salvaged cat-rigged wooden skiff, that I set out alone.

With his words in my ears, the wind in my face and the waves rolling underneath…. I became a sailor that day…..my hand squarely on the tiller…the strong easterly winds pulling hard…the direction my own….a skipper in my own right.

He gave me that little old boat as a sweet sixteen gift with a little card, “I hope you enjoy sailing as much as I have” love, Dad.

And for me, that was the BEST a girl could receive!!

Been salvaging boats ever since, restoring their dignity as beautiful swimmers and have encouraged, taught and mentored as many folks to take the helm and seek the wind as one possibly can.

Capt. Suz
The Captain’s Daughter
Bogue Inlet, the Carolina Coast

“A sailor is an artist whose medium is the wind”~ W. Chiles

About Capt. Suzi Wallace

I grew up sailing the Great Lakes, cruising, racing, restoring and eventually began a free-lance career of giving back to the marine industry as a seafaring artisan/designer/illustrator and educator.

I lived aboard and cruised on a 41’ trimaran raising two beautiful ‘sweet pea’ swabs and continue to race beach cats and  classic wooden skiffs but will always love the intimacy and adventure of a small boat set out to sea~

Suz writes about those sweet sails and much more on her blog.

Related articles (on this website)

• International Women’s Day then and now: Women Rocking the World in Their Own Way (blog)

More info

• Capt. Suz Wallace’s blog

Who has inspired YOU?

Let us know. Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.

“Tonto he was smart, one day said Kemosabe, Kiss my ass I bought a boat, I’m going out to sea.” Lyle Lovett’s, If I had a Boat

I could not wait to make this the ring tone on my phone, and I did November 20, 2009 as the selling broker and I were bringing ‘my’ ...Read more]]>

“Tonto he was smart, one day said Kemosabe, Kiss my ass I bought a boat, I’m going out to sea.” Lyle Lovett’s, If I had a Boat

I could not wait to make this the ring tone on my phone, and I did November 20, 2009 as the selling broker and I were bringing ‘my’ boat back to her home at Florida Sea Base after the survey.

Since that day my entire life has changed. I have moved aboard, left my full time yoga teaching position in Miami Beach and am preparing to receive my first Boy Scout crew for the ten weeks I will be running at Sea Base in the Florida Keys.

When I purchased Rainbow Connection, I had zero knowledge of diesel engines, electrical systems or any kind of ‘boat system’ for that matter. I knew how to sail, period. I had been crew on several boat this size (she is a 41’ Morgan Classic) but had only handled boats 22’ or less. What a leap of faith!

Since that time, I have learned about the cooling system on my engine, naturally after she overheated; I have also learned about the electrical system by being without shore power for the last couple of months.

I have learned that by stepping back and breaking things down detail-by-detail, troubleshooting can solve any problem and that Nigel Calder
is a Godsend.

I know that I need to replace the discharge valve in my aft head (not really looking forward to this one).

And I also have learned that there are a million and one ways to do the same thing!

Some days I feel totally confident and other days I wake up filled with anxiety and wondering what the heck I got myself into.

I will be perfectly honest…I imagined myself doing all of this with a partner, but refused to let both dreams slip through my fingers while I waited for one.

So, here I am, learning, growing, knowing my fears and facing them, one day at a time.

I believe one of the biggest lessons for me is that no one that owns a boat does it all alone. The captains here on the docks at Sea Base and other friends of mine have been so helpful and reassuring in the fact that they have felt the same chaos that I am feeling right now at some time or another and they ask for help when they need it.

This morning I am going to fuel up, then into the engine room for an oil change and fuel filter change. After that I will be zipping into West Marine to pay another weeks salary for one of their employees.

Tuesday I get my first crew: six scouts and two counselors; followed by nine more crews, taking me into the first week of August. We will sail, fish (I still have to learn how to fish!) snorkel, pray to the weather Gods and teach each other about life.

All is good in the Florida Keys!

Peace, Love and Laughter
Captain Kim Hess
SV Rainbow Connection

About Kim Hess

Kim Hess is a sailor, a captain, a yoga instructor and the author of Yoga Onboard, a practical guide to adapting traditional yoga postures or asana to your vessel.

It’s available as a book and DVD.

Related articles (on this website)

• Why Kim Hess got her captain’s license
• Debbie Leisure: What I learned on my first solo trip to the Bahamas
• A medical crisis leads Marti to buy a sailboat and learn to cruise
• Women and Cruising’s List of Maintenance-related Resources

More info (external links)

• Visit Kim Hess’s website, Tropic Yoga or check her book  Yoga Onboard: a guide for cruisers and live aboards at Amazon.com.
• The boat maintenance “most revered bible”: Nigel Calder’s Boatowner’s Mechanical and Electrical Manual

How did you learn your sailing/cruising skills?
Let us know. Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.