A delight of dolphins!

I have been a sailor all my life, but only started cruising in 2001. I grew up racing in small open boats, windsurfing, and day sailing. Years later when my husband proposed ...Read more]]> This article was first published on Sailing Phoenix, Marie Raney’s blog.

What’s it really like to go offshore?

A delight of dolphins!

I have been a sailor all my life, but only started cruising in 2001. I grew up racing in small open boats, windsurfing, and day sailing. Years later when my husband proposed the cruising lifestyle and maybe a circumnavigation, I started reading to find out what this was all about.

You’ve probably read from much the same list I have and we’re lucky to have so many talented writers among our experienced cruising community. But because they’re experienced they didn’t really address one question I had… what’s it really like when you first go offshore sailing?

They told me hints and tricks and lots of wonderful ideas, but never what it was like first time out.

Many of the books I read indicated that most people who actually go offshore sailing do it for less than two years – many leave it after six months, some after their first ocean crossing. If this is something we were going to gear up to do for years, it seemed like I should know whether I’d like it or not. But no one gave me a feeling of what that experience might be.

I’m now three weeks into my first ocean crossing so I’ll try to share what it has been like.

Nature of our trip

Of course all ocean voyages and all boats are not the same. I’ll describe a little about what our trip is so you’ll know how similar your experience might be. Your trip may be in a larger more comfortable boat, or on more temperate waters, or you may have more conveniences or comforts and so your experiences may be different for those reasons.

We live north of Seattle and are doing a “shakedown” ocean cruise to Hawaii and back before deciding whether to finish outfitting the boat for extended ocean cruising- a trip of about 3000 miles each way – about a month of ocean time each way.

We leave the land behind us as the wind vane takes over steering

Although our boat is the most complex boat either of us has owned, it is an older boat (1967 hull, renovated 1984) so is still by modern standards somewhat spartan.

For this trip we have no refrigeration, no generator, no water maker, no tv or microwave. It has a diesel engine, although not a powerful one. No integrated electronics, although I did set up a laptop for this trip and connected some serial devices (GPS, AIS, Pactor modem) to my computer for communications and navigation. No electric winches or anchoring.

We do have solar panels. We also have an Aries wind vane, but no autopilot. We have a two burner stove, but the oven doesn’t work currently. So we won’t be taking hot showers or drinking cold beers, but we will have hot meals.

As for the crossing itself, paradoxically the coastal part of it is reputedly as difficult as they come (in this country), but the ocean part is fairly easy.

To leave Washington state by water you generally need to tackle the Strait of Juan de Fuca – a 100 plus mile stretch of current-ridden, wind-driven water separating the US and Canada. Some cruisers have said it was the worst part of their trip. The straits are so turbulent that fluid dynamics studies use this body of water as their laboratory to study complex turbulence reactions.

After the first few days of beating to get away from the lee shore that is the US west coast, we spent most of the rest of the month wing-and-wing

However the crossing to Hawaii is fairly easy, although the coast of Washington, Oregon, and even California can be quite treacherous. But once you get offshore (in summer) light winds are more a problem than big winds or seas. Hurricanes or typhoons are extremely rare.

In mentally preparing for this trip I expected to get beat up for the first week out and then see a gradual easing of conditions and temperatures. This turned out to be pretty accurate.

Dealing with cool weather, high seas

The first two days were mostly beating in 12 foot seas. Weather was in the 60s when we left, water temperature in the mid 50s, seas a bit mixed from earlier storms.

Already the first days’ rigors are disappearing into memory, but this is what I emailed to friends at the time:

“The first few days, off the Washington and Oregon coast, were rough and wild, with 10-12 foot seas and strong winds. Those days passed in a fog of standing watches, grabbing hot food, and trying to sleep all against a background of being slammed around the boat like popping popcorn.”

During this time we never went out of the cabin without the full foulies – fleece pants and jacket covered by foul weather jacket and farmer johns, wool socks, sea boots, ski hat and gloves. It wasn’t really particularly cold, but it was wet from the occasional wave getting the side decks or from spray over the weather cloths or from light rain. And sitting still in the cockpit would get cold, until something needed doing like shortening sail – then it got sweaty fast.

I remember watching the boat raised on a wave … up, up, up to about a story and a half, then just when you were sure you’d crash and fall, the wave gracefully slid out from under the boat. Again and again and again.

However from inside the boat it was a different experience. From my journal:

“Our first four days were demanding, occasionally debilitating. Snatching sleep in two hour increments was all we could do with four hour watches. And four hour watches is all we could do on deck. Like backpacking on a six-degree of freedom platform, voyaging has bruised and exhausted us. The simplest tasks such as eating or sitting on the toilet became Olympic events.”

I get a new angle on cooking while sailing to windward the first few days. The galley belt, at hip height, is the only way to have two hands for cooking

Down below in early days was nearly as much work as in the cockpit. Just moving down the cabin was a full 3-D game experience. Even with handholds available from every position in our cabin I was constantly getting slammed against a bulkhead, unfailingly one with a pad eye sticking out.

I did manage to cook some simple meals from scratch during that time but I guess I would recommend sticking to heating up pre-prepared food. However I still remember the first day’s split pea soup that I made from scratch, with Bisquick biscuits. It was very tasty and did a lot to lift our spirits.

Night sailing

Night falls at sea

On deck was scary at first, especially at night, hurtling through the waves without being able to see what’s in front of you. The large rolling waves would come in and sometimes crash heavily on the side decks. You could really hear the weight of the water and it was a sobering sound.

My fears kept me occupied as well. What if someone falls in; what if something breaks; what if these were breakers not rollers; what if the wind, already whistling in the rigging, freshens; what if I can’t sleep; what if I can’t get the sail under control?

Gradually these fears gave way to appreciation for the boat. I stopped focusing on “what if..” and watched how the boat was made to handle these waves. I saw that if we got overpowered we could always round up and ease the pressure or the speed. The motion became more natural and not something to be fought.

And, however dark it was, there was nothing in front of us. I soon stopped worrying about running into something unseen in the dark – the somethings I needed to worry about, ships, were well lit up. But there were darn few of them in the north Pacific either. For two weeks we saw no ships, even on our AIS, and even the occasional planes were so far overhead that we heard nothing and could barely make out a glint as they passed overhead.

Even birds and large fishes were increasing rare as we got 800 or miles from the nearest land. Clouds and water were the only companions that we could rely on until clearer weather returned the stars, moon and sun to us.

Night watches are difficult for both of us. If you’re active in the cockpit, four hours is a long watch. If you’re trying to sleep, four hours is very short.

As the weather smooths out we’re compromising with five hour night watches – sundown to midnight and midnight to dawn – and seven hour day watches. This gives us plenty of time to get sleep between our two off-watches and keeps our night watches from being too difficult. Having light at one end of your watch seems to help psychologically.

Leecloths

And we have adjusted. I’m now falling to sleep faster and easier than I ever did on land, although a heavy roll will still keep either of us sleeping fitfully. Again, we don’t have staterooms, but keeping lights on helps the person on watch stay awake. I thought it would keep the sleeper awake as well, but this has not been a problem, even though on land I’m extremely sensitive to light while I’m trying to sleep.

However the beauty of night watches also makes them wonderful. Hundreds of miles from the nearest light source the stars are luscious and rich with variation. Warm winds caress as the boat moves effortlessly forward. It’s intoxicating.

Sounds at sea

The thing I was not expecting was the sound of cruising.

Water crashes on the side decks, sounding like a ton of bricks from my quarterberth below

It was worse because we were beating, but the sound is unending. Water sounds, boat sounds, and stuff-shifting-around sounds all combined into a constant cacophonous background of sound. On deck it would be difficult to hear each other.

Even more unexpected were the voices. I had heard of sleep-deprived single-handers imagining voices and even seeing people, but I didn’t expect to hear them myself. But we both heard voices constantly during that first week. The words weren’t quite distinguishable, but the tones and cadence sounded like English. Some of my voices included a phantom cocktail party – some male and female voices and the clink of glassware – as well as a mom calling her kids to lunch on a summer afternoon – relaxed and unhurried. Occasionally I heard the staccato tones of a slightly worried man or the murmur of a conversation in another room that lapses momentarily into a querulous note of sharpness then subsides back into conversation.

A couple of weeks later, running downwind in warmer conditions and lighter seas we rarely hear these voices. I sort of miss them.

Hygiene, moisture, salt

We didn’t want to use water for bathing until we really knew how much water we were using for essentials. But, as I had learned from backpacking, a sponge bath can be very effective. A wet washcloth with a little Dr. Bronner’s applied to “problem areas” at bedtime is a delight.

Except for these efficacious sponge baths we didn’t try to bathe until the weather got warm enough that it was pleasant to do in the cockpit. And then washing our hair was a near religious experience. However do not attempt this with salt water. I thought it would be a relief to get the oil out, but anything with salt water in it never really dries. Rather awful. I washed it again the next day in fresh water.

A flexible bucket made of rubberized cloth (sold at camping stores) minimized the amount of water you need since you don’t waste water in the corners of the bucket – sort of fold it around your head as you rinse.

But the fact remains that we are dirty. Clothes particularly are a problem. You can wear the same clothes over and over – or you can pile up the dirty laundry – neither is an attractive proposition.

I did wash out underwear and a few shirts in a minimal amount of water to good effect. However cottons don’t dry and get dirty fast – avoid them. My microfiber, polyester (dri-wear type), rip-stop nylon, and polyprop / fleece clothes don’t get as dirty as fast as cotton, don’t hold water, don’t hold sweat, and are easy to wash.

Next trip I will not allow cotton during the voyage itself – particularly cotton sweatshirts and jeans. They just stay damp all the time.

As the weather warms I wear bathing suits almost exclusively, sometimes throwing a long sleeved shirt over for sun protection. My husband has chosen not to wear clothes. Both are better solutions than bra, panties, shirts and shorts. On the other hand, like during our backpacking in previous lives, we’re dirty together and getting used to it.

Related to hygiene is moisture and salt. Even a boat as well-ventilated as ours has moisture issues, especially in high seas. What I didn’t really appreciate was the salt that encrusts everything. In a mild morning I go forward and sit on a hatch with a cup of tea – the hatch is crusted in salt and now so are my clothes. My hands are salty, my hair is salty. I don’t miss potato chips – I just kiss my husband. Everything is salty and with salt comes moisture. Even with sponge baths before bed the sheets are vaguely damp. A separate stateroom away from companionway traffic would help, but we don’t have this luxury.

Next time I think I will have silk or synthetic sheet sacks that can be easily washed in little water and dried in little time. I did provide spare sheets stored in zip lock bags with lavender-scented dryer sheets and this worked well – at least the new sheets were dry and fresh smelling. The polypropylene blankets worked well – never seemed damp, dried readily if wet, didn’t pick up sweat smells. Wool or cotton would have been disastrous.

To counteract salt buildup in the cabin I wiped down surfaces with vinegar. This cut the salt and eliminated any mold that might be thinking of forming.

Conclusion

All in all ocean passages, at least for this first-timer, are awe-inspiring and exhausting – no namby-pamby boring stuff.

Time passes strangely quickly, filled with necessary activities. The work – cooking, cleaning, bathing, getting weather reports, standing watch, doing sail changes – seems to fill most of the day but is all clearly necessary, not make-work. The down time – sleeping, reading, watching, thinking has never been quite enough but is pleasingly unstructured. I have managed to do a little writing, and reading, but not as much as I thought. Knitting, games, music have stayed put away.

Except during squalls there isn’t much of a schedule. So if dolphins arrive, we stop everything else and just watch them. When the sky is clear and my watch begins, I just watch the stars until I’m satiated. We do what’s in front of us, not much planning or juggling of activities, which feels unpressured and, well, simple. I think we’re a little closer to just being.

On land I live in the future – always looking at least an hour or a day ahead. Out here I’m living in the same time I’m doing, so even though we’re always busy it’s not the frantic busy of trying to finish up x to get to y that seems to characterize my working life on land. I feel healthier, more centered, more tired, but more … at home perhaps.

About Marie Toler Raney

Marie and Williwaw leave Neah Bay, Washington on their first Pacific trip in 2008. Co-captain Jon took the photo.

Marie grew up racing small boats in the Chesapeake Bay area of Maryland before becoming a software developer. Jon grew up in Davis, CA dreaming of running away to sea, finally escaping at 15 on an Alaskan fishing boat. Williwaw the Portuguese Water Dog, born on Lopez Island, WA, has an ancient and noble sailing heritage.

After years of coastal sailing in the Pacific Northwest they all decided to run away to sea together on their steel sloop, Phoenix.

Their blog is at www.sailingphoenix.com

Related posts

• Tale of a gale: A novice sailor’s adventure, by Susan Von Hemert
• Lessons from an offshore voyage: How one woman’s life was changed by the sea, by Heather Mann
• A sea of meaning: How the sea changes me, by Karen Sullivan

I am never bored and always busy. Being able to multitask was for me a must and required good organisational skills.

I was sometimes ...Read more]]> This is the second half of a 2-part article first published in the South African Sailing magazine of April and May 2014.
You can read part 1 here.

Multitasking

I am never bored and always busy. Being able to multitask was for me a must and required good organisational skills.

I was sometimes cooking and teaching the kids and had to suddenly leave everything because my help was needed on deck or in the bilges.

I became a skipper, a baker, a teacher, a translator, a communication officer, a navigator, a trip advisor, a medical officer, a hairdresser, a mechanic apprentice and a weather router.

So don’t be afraid of discovering new skills!

Navigation

I like reading other sailing blogs, sailing books and magazines then imagining new places where we could be by ourselves, visit a city, do a good shop, enjoy a nice beach, explore some water falls or go diving. I was the one planning the routes and then we’d discuss it together.

It is useful to have reading material on board to guide you with your routes and what to see and do once you reach your destination.

On the other hand, going to places without knowing much about them pushes you to explore with a new eye and you might be surprised by your discoveries and encounters.

While we were doing navigation by sight, I was the one at the bow checking for coral heads, while Gregory was happy steering. I liked the responsibility of checking the water and giving indications where to go.

Overnight

A few people asked us if we were sleeping at night while sailing. Being only 2 adults most of the time meant watches were shared.

In fact we were doing 3-hour watches. From 12:00am and 3:00am, I would knead the dough, prepare yoghurts, enjoy my quiet time watching the stars and listening to some music. I was woken up around 6:00am with the smell of the freshly baked bread. After breakfast, I would start school with the kids and usually didn’t go back to sleep at 9:00am. Lunch was followed by some fiddling around, playing family games, reading a lot and enjoying our sail till 3:00pm. Around 6:00pm we would all watch the sunset, have dinner in the cockpit, read stories to the kids and start my new night of sailing.

I liked sailing at night. I felt empowered being the one in charge. With the darkness, all my senses were in on high alert. The sound of the water was reassuring, I felt protected by the stars and I was feeling the energy of Merlin going forward. My hearing was the most aware of changes. Even when I wasn’t on watch I would wake up because the sound of the waves had changed and I wanted to understand the reason for the change.

Passages

First I thought that P could be for pumps such as water pump, bilge pump, shower pump, sea water motor pump, watermaker pump, hydraulic auto helm pump… They are so many on board and they are so important for your general happiness. You could associate them with Patience when they don’t work properly! However, I left Gregory worry about the pumps.

So P is for passages.

As we fear a storm or a breakage, long passages can appear frightening. It is important to trust yourself, your partner and your boat and be well prepared. The technology is so good nowadays that anywhere anytime the weather can be checked (we used grib files via our e-mail system). Study and learn the minimum about the weather because it will be so much part of your life and decision making. Even squalls can be avoided if detected with the radar.

Leave only when you feel ready to leave and when all the conditions seem fine to you. Your boat should be well maintained, so in case of gear failure you only have to deal with a new problem not 5 at once. Remember you should have enough spare parts on board.

Frightful events can happen and their impact will be amplified by the fact you are by yourself and must work it out with what you have on board.

I panicked once during our Atlantic crossing when our DC to DC convertor fuse blew leaving us at night in the complete darkness without sailing instrument and a smell of burnt plastic. The other time was during our longest crossing from the Galapagos to the Marquises when I found a trickle of sea water in the starboard passage. In fact, we had a cross swell that we haven’t had before and a tiny pilot hole under the sink was letting some water in. On both occasions Gregory found the cause of the problem and fixed them, proving to me again that I had the right sailing partner.

Problems can happen but they are not a norm.

Overall passages are fantastic. You are by yourself on an open deep blue ocean, you have the most wonderful skies, you see green flashes, you feel so small in the middle of a beautiful environment. You are amazed by a flying visitor and you cheer proudly when you catch a fish.

Then you realise you are living something special.

Questions

It all started when one day, I asked my husband “how about going sailing around the world?”

I wasn’t scared of the answer because it was what I dreamt of doing since I was a teenager. It was suddenly clear for both of us that we wanted to do it. We had to go cruising and preferably with our kids still being young, which meant soon. This simple question quickly multiplied into hundreds of others. Every thought turned into a when, a how and a where.

If you are motivated, inspired and willing to throw the lines to live your dream, you will find the answers to make it possible. We even met people who weren’t even sailors a few months before their departure, some with very small budgets and others with small and simple boats.

The cruising life is open to all. There is no right answer, but there will be one or a few that will suit you. There are also some delayed answers and lots of changes that will happen along the way and the questions will never stopped coming.

Repairs

Having a new boat we did have some fine tuning to do. With proper maintenance we were able to cut down on the time and money spent on repairs. However, a boat will always keep you busy and TLC is always on the agenda.

I left the more technical side of the repairs to Gregory simply because he enjoys fiddling with tools and spares more than me. Again we didn’t plan our man/woman jobs division. It came naturally.

Rough seas

We didn’t have really bad conditions during our travels.

When we left Cape Town in November, the winds were strong and seas high. It took us a few days to find our sea legs and once we were in the trade winds it became much smoother. We had 15ft seas during our passage from Brazil to the Caribbean but the swell was regular and we got used to it.

Generally you try to sail when it is pleasant, with the wind in the right direction and during the right season so conditions should be good. You are out there to have fun not to prove anything.

Safety

My husband thinks that usually women worry more than men. He might be right on that one!

Safety is a very important issue for us and I made sure, for example, Gregory was wearing his man overboard tag and strobe when he took over the night watch. I made sure he was also wearing his life jacket/harness and was hooked on with the life line when he had to go on deck for manoeuvres at night or during rough weather.

The safety gear on board will help you feel secure. However, your behaviour should be the first thing to be on the safe side.

Tip

Have enough handholds around your boat.

School

Sailing with school age children meant we had to home school our three kids.

Growing up in a bilingual family, our kids followed a French correspondence system, which has been in place for more than 50 years. At the start of each school year, we received all our books and tutor guides. The children followed the appropriate curriculum and were sending an evaluation every 3 weeks, which were then marked by the teachers.

As it was in French, I was the one wearing the teacher’s hat every morning for a few hours. We met a few boats where teaching was a shared exercise between the two parents, but it seemed that most of the time it was more of a maternal occupation. Having done some teaching before, it seemed logical for us to proceed that way.

Our school time wasn’t all fun and I gained a few grey hairs but it was part of our sailing project.

Storage

Space could be limited so try not to take too much. Remember it is not just because there is more room that you need to carry more stuff. Think of your waterline!

My great grandmother used to tell me “Everything has its place and every place has a thing”. It stayed with me. I don’t like clutter and I prefer order. I use boxes and plastic bags and I try to be very organised.

Gregory does the same with the tools and the spares. In case of emergency it would be a great help to know instantly where things are. For food or clothes, Merlin offers enough storage.

Storing could also mean packing away for a long time. I stored some basic food like flour, oats, and sugar in vacuum-packed bags and then packed them away in our big lockers. As this is a great way to avoid bugs I wish I had done the same with rice and pasta. If you want to keep your storage areas free of bugs do not allow cardboard and other packages on board.

Tips

• Buy lots of bags for your vacuum pack machine as you might not find them again on route.
• It is now easy to find big vacuum-packed bags for out-of-season clothes and bedding. I didn’t think of them when we left Cape Town and then I couldn’t find any. We left our duvets in some lockers in normal plastic bags but had bad surprise when we next wanted to use them. These bags will need a vacuum to take the air out but they are really practical.
• We have few hard drives on board to store all our photos, music and movies. The photos are saved at least twice, kept in two different spots and in a dry bag in a safe place.

Terrific travels

Travelling is stimulating, but it could bring excitement mixed with fears. Will I catch my plane, how about my visa, where will I sleep, how long will I need to get over jet-lag, etc.?

Cruising different: different excitement and worries. Travelling with a boat is a very gentle way to go from place to place (no jet lag as you change time hour by hour over a few days), discover new countries and meet new people and new cultures.

We travelled with European passports and never needed visas but like any travellers the customs office was our first stop when arriving in a new country. You will get used to the customs formalities for yourself and for your boat. It might take some time but it is usually a stress-free obligation.

As you are travelling with your home, you will always sleep in the same bed. You don’t have to pack, unpack and acclimatise to a new space every time. You are self-sufficient. In fact, you are not the typical tourist. That will make you a different tourist once ashore and can add to your terrific memories.

Underwater

Water will be your new world.

Before leaving I didn’t think I would spend so much time with the water and didn’t prepare well enough for swimming costumes, sun protection and fins. However, I found some along the way.

Try as often as you can to explore the underwater world. If you sail in the tropics, the water temperature will be just perfect. The diversity of the corals, the colours and shapes of the fish, the feeling of being so close to sharks or manta rays, the silence, the pleasure of swimming all five together are a few of the wonders of the underwater world. In a few places we had better memories from our swims than our land discoveries. Exploring the sea life was something we really enjoyed.

Tip

If you like snorkelling or diving then it is worth investing in a good underwater camera and flash.

Victory

On a daily basis, there are so many little victories bringing a feeling of pride and achievement.

It is not only about making a safe journey. Victories can be as simple as finishing home-schooling early and smoothly, catching a fish, having our clearance finalised, buying a spare part that we were searching for, or we anchoring before darkness, etc.

These little victories are enjoyable because they prove you are capable of things which were so unknown before.

Vegies

Whenever possible we were buying fresh vegies and fruits, especially before longer crossings or when we knew we would need to be self-sufficient for a while.

Like most of the cruising boats, we had small nets to hang the vegies, hammock style, in the cockpit. Potatoes, onions, pumpkins, apples and oranges were stored in our “shop” (our spacious pantry) in two big plastic boxes with holes for ventilation. Fresh products were kept a long time that way.

Wind/Water and washing/Winch/Worries

They are all part of your daily cruising life.

Wind will dry your hair and will push your boat forward. Wind will take away some of your badly pegged clothes. Wind could scare you but will also blow away the bad weather.

We have a watermaker on board so water wasn’t an issue. However, we are still quite water conscious and try to save as much as possible. We were doing our dishes with sea water and only the final rinse was done with fresh water. We had some water saving features on our taps, especially those used often.

We bought a garden spray container which was a great way to get wet before applying soap. I could even “shower” 3 kids with only 2 liters of water! We were showering every day and rinsing after each swim.

I was doing a wash with our big washing machine (9kg) at least once a week.

The big deck brush was also out with every strong rain and once the boat was cleaned, we collected extra water to add to our tanks.

Tips

1. If you can have one, an electric winch is great. It helps me to winch Gregory up the mast without too much sweat. It helps me hoist the main sail by myself. It helps us lift our dinghy and motor on deck before a long passage. It reassures me as I know that my strength is not a limitation in my sailing.
2. Worries are natural but try to control them as much as you can.

Xmas

We had 4 Xmases on board.

After the first one we realised that Christmas and birthdays needs to be planned well ahead of time. You don’t easily find presents on remote islands, especially the gifts that your kids are dreaming of. The same applies if you would like a special meal.

We always tried to decorate our boat and it is a perfect occasion to keep the kids busy with craft activities.

For me it is also a great time to keep up my family traditions. So even if the weather is humid and hot, we have the oven on for a few hours baking Christmas biscuits and we have been very inventive with our Advent calendar.

Every December, Merlin is decorated and we don’t escape some obvious festive excitement.

Even if very simple we’ve had very memorable Christmases. It is good to feel that you don’t have to be part of the consumerism to have a perfect Christmas.

Yacht

Your boat is your companion and you should have confidence in her.

The type of boat doesn’t matter too much. It is more important to get out there. You don’t need to go fancy or big. Try to find the one which suits your needs and your budget, the one you think you can sail in heavy weather with and the one you can trust.

You will have the feeling that your yacht is never ready, which is normal. If the essentials (motor, batteries, rig, and instruments) are in good working order, you should be ready to start your new life. You’ll have plenty of time while sailing or during your stops to finalise some overdue jobs or find new ones to do. Your yacht will become part of the family and you will feel her soul.

Years

Life on board is not always a dream and it has a few challenges, but it is worth it.

Time seems to fly even faster on a boat and it is important to appreciate every minute of your adventure.

Zest

Sailing and particularly cruising is a good recipe if you are looking for a zest for life.

Even a short experience of it will open your eyes to so many possibilities and will start new dreams. One of my new dreams is to do it again!

If you have any questions contact me through our blog www.merlinsvoyage.net
I am looking forward to reading your cruising stories!

About Emmanuelle Buecher-Hall

Emmanuelle studied marine biology in France, then went to do some research on jellyfish in South Africa.

There, her life took a new course. After having built a catamaran, she went sailing with her family, crossing the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans. Merlin’s Voyage was inspired by this adventure. She is now living in Australia.

Her website (in French and English) is:
www.merlinsvoyage.net

Emmanuelle wrote Merlin’s Voyage, a children book mostly for children around 4-8 years-old. It is available on Amazon as an ebook or paperback, in French and in English.

Colour photos taken during the trip are the main illustrations.

At the end of the book, there is also a detailed index explaining nautical terminology and giving geographical information of the various stops.

Also on this website

• Part 1 of this article: A cruising wife’s A to Z – Part 1 (A to L)
• 12 Questions To 12 Sailing Families: the MERLIN family
• Merlin’s voyage: Living our dream for real!, by Emmanuelle Buecher-Hall

How did a middle-aged cruising sailor, mother and psychologist, end up in the company of 13 incredible women who set sail aboard a Sea Dragon to cross an ocean? Not literally a Sea Dragon, but the Sea Dragon, a research sailing vessel operated by Pangaea Explorations. It ...Read more]]>

Photo: Cornell Sailing

How did a middle-aged cruising sailor, mother and psychologist, end up in the company of 13 incredible women who set sail aboard a Sea Dragon to cross an ocean? Not literally a Sea Dragon, but the Sea Dragon, a research sailing vessel operated by Pangaea Explorations. It is quite incredible to reflect back on how this all came about, but in the end this journey was one of the most remarkable experiences of my life.

On a whim one Sunday morning in the Spring 2014, I signed up to be crew on just such an adventure. Pangaea Explorations was looking for crew to sail with eXXpedition, an all women expedition that was going to cross the Atlantic Ocean, with the key goals of studying plastic pollution in the oceans and examining the toxics that accumulate in our bodies.

A further goal, and perhaps the most salient for me at that time, was that an all women crew would serve as a model to other young women, to encourage them to do whatever they put their mind to. Women are often underrepresented in sailing, as they are in many career areas of science, technology and engineering. What an incredible opportunity to show everyone just what a group of women can do. This was the vision of Emily Penn and Lucy Gilliam, co-founders of eXXpedition.

So far in my life, I had managed to sail my own Niagara 35 foot sailboat with my family in the Great Lakes for several years, and to charter in the Caribbean.

Crossing an ocean was really not on my “To Do” list. Or so I thought. A spot became available to crew and for some reason, I felt this experience was so remarkable that I could not say no.

I was advised just 6 weeks before departure that I was now on board, a member of this incredible crew.

Quick and sometimes stressful preparations, careful packing and 5 weeks of intense training saw me boarding a flight that would ultimately take me to Lanzarote, Canary Islands, our point of departure, as one boat among many in the Atlantic Odyssey 2014.

When I saw Sea Dragon, I was awed. What a powerful, elegant vessel.

And when I met our captain, Emily Penn, and first mate, Shanley McEntee, I was further amazed. Such young and accomplished sailors and ocean advocates.

The other amazing women on board, which included sailors, ocean scientists, conservationists and environmentalists, and designers, artists and filmmakers, would soon become quite close, as the circumstances of our first days out would test the strength and determination of many.

I recall thinking to myself during this time, at least I had a sense of what to expect on a crossing, having read so many books and articles and heard first hand accounts at sailing seminars offered by members of the Women and Cruising website.

Some of my crewmates had never even been on board a sailing vessel, let alone done any serious off shore sailing. Their courage was amazing, as they managed as best they could the discomfort of sailing close hauled for days on end, in high seas and big winds, while fighting persisting sea sickness.

I think though that these early days at sea helped to seal a bond between us all, in this shared journey where we needed to rely on and support one another.

Three watch teams were set up and worked very efficiently to keep us on course, well fed and as rested as one could expect. I was struck by how quickly we seemed to adapt to this new schedule at sea.

Our boat was very comfortable, and incredibly seaworthy. Even while pounding upwind, she was pretty smooth and quick through the waves. This didn’t mean that everything we had to do was smooth, as cooking and sleeping could be challenging in the constant motion, not to mention just making our way from one end of the boat to the other. Amazingly, fourteen women also managed to share two heads during the whole time at sea, with no real mishaps.

My excitement at being at sea never waned, even during some of the late night watches when we were cold, chilled and bruised from being bounced around day after day.

One of my goals had been to test myself in some respects while undertaking this adventure, to address my long-standing anxiety of being in big seas and big winds. I recalled only one time when I thought to myself, “what was I thinking getting into this”. This moment of anxiety, tinged with some fear, was, however, only brief. I did what any crewmate needed to do and got into my foul weather gear for another midnight watch in the rain with my new-found friends.

SEA DRAGON crew handling the boat

While sometimes difficult, these watches were also often filled with laughter, drinks of hot tea and bars of chocolate. My watch team managed to devise many silly word games to play, one of my favorites being desserts that begin with letters of the alphabet (desserts were in short supply while on board, chocolate notwithstanding), or who would win in a fight, Jason Bourne or James Bond.

Many hours were spent finding out about each other, what our passions were, and where our life journey had taken each of us. Each evening involved a great dinner as a group, and a special guest speaker from among the crew. Everyone had a chance to do this talk, and it was such a treat to be offered a glimpse into such diverse and rich lives. It only further confirmed my long held belief that “Women really are amazing”.

One important mission of eXXpedition was to study the state of the ocean we were crossing. We did so by trawling the ocean each day for evidence of microplastics.

I will admit that as a sailor I have always been concerned about limiting our footprint or environmental impact wherever we sailed. I would not, however, have considered myself to be a conservationist or ardent environmentalist, leaving this task to the “real” environmentalist, who show up in the news and who make it their life’s purpose to agitate for change.

Participating in this scientific study while on board Sea Dragon did, however, open my eyes. Our first trawl, in what seemed to be a pristine ocean, yielded dozens of plastic particles, some pieces only visible through a microscope. I could never again look away from this human-made problem.

SEA DRAGON crew doing the science with the manta trawl

A predictable pattern gradually emerged during our 19 days at sea, to be punctuated by some very memorable and exciting experiences. Nature never ceased to amaze us, as each setting sun, rising moon, starry night, rainbow and pod of dolphins served to remind us of what an incredible world this is. Crossing the ocean, looking out each day at the immense dome above us and the horizon filled with water around us….it also reminds you of your place in the world.

I came away from this expedition with a whole new view of what I myself can accomplish. Sailing across an ocean can do that to you. I am a more confident sailor and a more dedicated environmental citizen, and I have been enriched in meeting and befriending so many amazing women.

Since being onshore, I must also admit to feeling a strong pull back to the ocean, to put my feet again on a swaying deck and to look forward on the horizon to a new adventure or expedition.

About Elaine McKinnon

Elaine is an avid sailor, with most of her sailing experience being on the incredible Great Lakes. She learned to sail as an adult, taking keelboat sailing lessons while working as a professional psychologist and raising her family.

Doing this Atlantic crossing only further confirmed her belief that, as women, we are all capable of more than we think we are. It has encouraged her to take on new challenges and to step out into a life of more adventurous cruising in the coming years.

This experience has also rekindled a passion for more active environmental work and conservation, with her efforts now being directed at EXXpedition Great Lakes 2016.

More:

•  VIDEO: EXXPEDITION Atlantic 2014
  
• eXXpedition website
• Atlantic Odyssey website

To an artist, the sea is a moody canvas of light, texture, color and motion to capture, but to a sailor, it’s more than that. The surface of the sea is ...Read more]]> There’s no two ways about it: being out at sea changes me.

It’s hard to write about this without streaking off on a tangent of froth.

To an artist, the sea is a moody canvas of light, texture, color and motion to capture, but to a sailor, it’s more than that. The surface of the sea is a living membrane between two worlds.

Both have oxygen and carbon, light and darkness, calm and tempest. Both worlds move fluidly, even if the creatures that move within them at times seem clumsy.

Offshore, the boundary between sea and sky is delineated by density, gravity, a 360-degree horizon, and by the form that water takes—mostly vapor in one, mostly liquid in the other.

But there’s also a boundary of the imagination.

The air is light, heavenly, knowable; the sea, innately un-knowable, thick and dark, a place of slimy predators, witless prey, and terrors of the deep.

It symbolizes the fear of unknown deeps within ourselves.

Architeuthis, the ship-killing mythical Kraken, is actually a giant squid not known to grasp ships and pull them under, but we still harbor its menace beneath the conscious surface of our imaginations.

Its existence is sometimes hinted at by upwelling and unnamed extremes of emotion, whose release we fearfully block lest they pull us under.

When we say someone is “all at sea,” it means they are feeling lost and confused.

When a sailor goes to sea, she in fact confronts 3 worlds: Besides sky and water, there is also an ocean inside us.

Before Jim and I left Port Townsend aboard our Pacific Seacraft Dana 24, Sockdolager, we asked a few friends for advice.

Much of it was useful, some was funny, but the most profound suggestion came from Lin Pardey:

Once you head out to sea, turn off all shoreside communications and feel the delight of truly being at sea, letting the sounds, smells and vistas take over your whole mind.

I had no idea how right she was.

I found that letting the sea take over opened an elegiac doorway into an unexplored chamber of the mind.

It’s as if my amygdala, the brain’s center of primitive emotion, became mesmerized and could no longer repress thought snippets, memories, and occasionally, endless annoying song fragments.

There was a tidal freeflow in and out, an ebb and flood between the conscious and unconscious, until things I hadn’t remembered in years spilled out on night watches as I braced tiredly against ceaseless rolling.

Oh look, what’s that thought flopping down there? Talk about unguarded moments. The sea bent me to its will through heave and toss, pitch and yaw, a form of sensory overload combined with the empty-horizon sameness that can induce sensory deprivation. I felt a nameless gate opening.

We’re from the Pacific Northwest. There the sea is cold and mysterious.

At night off-watch, I lay in my warm, dry bunk, left ear six inches from the Pacific gurgling at the hull, 100 miles off the Oregon coast. I imagined the billions of unseen shelled, feathered, finned, and toothed lives, of which we know next to nothing. Some crawl in freezing darkness 12,000 feet down; others are near the surface. Some are large, intelligent; others are invisible, microscopic, but no less alive. Some lives span whole oceans as they migrate with the seasons; other lives are confined to a drop of water.

On watch I emptied my mind while barely hanging onto my stomach, and watched the birds fly.

Look at how that delicate petrel reverses direction, doing cartwheels! Even over the nausea I wondered, how is it not broken by the wind?

The albatross barely moves its long wings on wavetop swoops, and stares with soulful dark eyes. And the shearwaters, so curious at this green contraption with its tanbark sails and foaming wake. What are they wondering as they fly, land, stare and repeat the sequence?

One could also argue for the presence of another boundary between worlds…

… the one that existed between my mind and body, now a disagreeably nauseated blob of protoplasm which still required the same basic maintenance I would normally give it on land: eat and sleep, pee and poop.

In this watery, out-of-sync world, I tried to “manage” the body by drinking less (so I didn’t have to go below as often to ride the wild toilet) and by restricting what I ate (less bilious product at risk if I’m seasick) but this invariably fails. Somehow, by the time my body feels ready for an IV infusion, it becomes used to the motion, and I resume drinking lots of water. And the other seagoing bugaboo—constipation—is narrowly avoided, too. The meaning of a whoop when someone emerges from the head is instantly clear to everyone aboard a sailboat. Little things mean a lot at sea. Becoming closer to one’s own bodily rhythms is not a bad thing.

By the fourth day out, the sea has turned me into a creature of the moment, which is exactly what one must be in order to survive (and thrive) so far from land. How strange for modern humans to do this! To go from our preoccupied selves with frenetic lives punctuated by 8 hours of sleep to this mariner’s world, where the past dims, the future is far away, and all you have is the voyage.

I can’t enjoy the distraction of reading a book yet, because although I’m not queasy now, reading might trigger it in these big seas.

At first the huge aloneness with myself feels a bit empty and slow.

I notice a disappointing twinge of boredom, and wonder: Why? It’s just me now, am I bored with that? Maybe it’s a truth about our lives: without the past and the future to buffer us, the pure present can feel uncomfortable, so we seek distraction, even escape. But there’s no escape; at sea, the present tense is everywhere.

This flatness of mind is not welcome at first; I was hoping for something more… poetic.

But one needs this flatness out here to be able to recognize changes: a tiny dot on the radio’s AIS screen means a ship is within range, and suddenly I become all alert and sensory, searching the foggy horizon where the bearing says it is, listening for the sound of its engines (sometimes audible through the hull first); perhaps even sniffing for its exhaust, if the ship is upwind. This is not a game, and sailors know it.

Going to sea on a small sailboat is about letting go.

It’s a dropping of allegiance to certain ways of thinking.

Like the idea that you need a lot of space to live in, and a lot of possessions with which to fill that space. Or maybe the idea that adventures are for other people, who fail to heed the conventional wisdom: none of us will ever have enough, so we can never stop working to get enough, because none of us know how much is enough.

Voyaging requires work: planning, preparation, and a high degree of organization, but voyaging makes me feel so alive. Everyone I know who’s done it lately says why didn’t I start sooner? What’s so frightening about feeling more alive? It’s admittedly a lot easier to turn on the TV, pop a can of Bud, and fart into the couch. Or go shopping. But none of that would make me feel alive.

There’s also a notion that life off the grid is slightly shabby, second-rate, a glorified form of camping out, which implies a degree of sustained discomfort or doing without. You do give up a lot when you move aboard a small boat and then sail the boat around on the world’s oceans. We’re doing without schedules dictated by others, nightly apocalyptic news broadcasts, utility bills, commutes, car payments, and too little exercise. We traded that for self-reliance, including sometimes being pushed past what we thought were limits. It isn’t convenient or easy compared to land, but it’s simpler. And in a time when nothing seems simple, that’s a lot.

So I finish my watch and lay down in my bunk, more grateful for being horizontal than I ever thought possible. It won’t be enough, but it’ll get me through the next watch.

To the sea’s chuckling sounds I drift away, between two worlds, but beginning to feel at home now, equally, in both. The sheer richness of life is making itself known; a richness that, from back in my other, land-based life, I know is under terrible threat. Out here I see its exuberance, and begin to feel something resembling love, for its sheer crazy variety and the joy of being alive and in a still-vibrant world.

About Karen Sullivan

Karen Sullivan has been sailing since the mid-1970s, in New England, the Caribbean & Gulf of Mexico, Alaska, and the Pacific Northwest.  She studied oceanography in school, held a 100 ton license for 20 years, from 1980-2000, and ran some big boats, but is back to her small-boat roots on a Pacific Seacraft Dana 24.

She and her partner Jim left Port Townsend in July and are enroute to Mexico and beyond, in the fulfillment of a lifelong dream.  Their blog, Karen and Jim’s Excellent Adventure, is at:  karenandjimsexcellentadventure.blogspot.com/

Read also on this website

• Lessons from an offshore voyage: How one woman’s life was changed by the sea, by Heather Mann

More information (external links)

• Karen Sullivan’s blog
• Published articles from Karen Sullivan

How does being at sea change you?

Let us know.

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

“My mind creaks as I shift from boat maintenance to sailing. Having spent the hurricane season in Wisconsin with the boat tucked into a boatyard in Florida, Dave and I realize it has been five months since we’d hoisted sail on our ...Read more]]> “Do we remember how to do this?” I ponder in my offshore sailing journal.

“My mind creaks as I shift from boat maintenance to sailing. Having spent the hurricane season in Wisconsin with the boat tucked into a boatyard in Florida, Dave and I realize it has been five months since we’d hoisted sail on our Hylas 45.5, WILD HAIR. We comment on the butterflies in our stomachs.”

And so begins our great offshore sailing adventure from Green Cove Springs in north Florida (N 29 59 30 W 81 39 65) to St Thomas in the US Virgin Islands (N 18 20 19 W 64 56 40). In total, the trip was 1,566 non-stop nautical miles. Moving at an average speed of just over 5 knots, the trip took 15 days and 80 gallons of diesel to complete.

During the half-month afloat in the Atlantic—with nothing but combinations of boat, spouse, sea, and air—I became forever changed.

Some of the changes I might have predicted, others I never could have guessed. Here is a sampling of what lingers after the journey is complete.

• My doubt about our ability to undertake the voyage was healthy, but not necessary.

In retrospect, we were prepared. We had spent years updating our 1994 vessel for offshore travel. Dave and I gained experience sailing her up and down the east coast and touring the islands of the Bahamas. We had attended boat show lectures, read books, and queried fellow sailors about their offshore experiences. We were physically fit.

To ready our 16-year-old boat for offshore, we pulled WILD HAIR’s mast to check electrical connections and thread fresh running rigging

Yet I remained leery because our mettle was untested. There is a limit to what we could know from books and lectures. Eventually, we had to go offshore and taste the voyage for ourselves.

By completing the voyage my husband and I graduated into that proud class of “offshore sailors.” Now, I experience a freedom, a confidence knowing I can pick a far away destination and—together with my husband—sail to it, safely.

• I was thrilled to learn on the trip that—in all sorts of conditions—our boat is sea-kindly.

Offshore, WILD HAIR surfed large waves as they overtook us from the stern

While underway, I wrote:

“With a little smart handling, WILD HAIR finds her way expertly in the seas. The hull, bobbing happily through unending assaults, finds a middle path. In the past two weeks I have seen a year of wear put upon her and yet she stands tall, willing, able, and ready for more.

Our boat possesses qualities hidden to the buyer that knows only to ask, “Is she strong? Can she go offshore?” The reputation says yes. Now this indebted sailor says yes. Discovering the boat in this way is like meeting a lover only to discover that my lover is also my best friend.”

Preparing for a sail-away departure, Heather raises the main sail prior to hoisting the anchor in a cozy harbor in Bequia, Grenadines

• Not surprising was our technical growth; the trip made Dave and me better sailors.

Previously I was skittish about big weather. Now, after smoothly navigating a strong gale at 47 knots and several lesser gales, I feel safe riding out heavy seas. I feel at ease detecting a change in the wind and adjusting sails and course headings.

Today, I am so confident in our boat and my know-how that I often hoist sails in the face of a blow whereas before I would have shrunk from intimidation.

• I learned technical lessons from the things we didn’t do on our trip as well.

In retrospect, maybe we should have gone north to go south.

The Caribbean 1500′s route, from Chesapeake Bay to the British Virgin Islands (Photo from www.carib1500.com)

Every year, the Caribbean 1500—a cruising rally open to sailors like Dave and me—departs Hampton, Virginia and travels nonstop to the Virgin Islands. Surprisingly, that route is the same distance to the islands as a departure from Florida.

But this year, just weeks before our voyage, Caribbean 1500 participants made the trip in only nine days, averaging eight knots, compared to our two weeks at five knots. What was the difference?

Given the slope of the east coast, Virginia is located hundreds of miles east of northern Florida. Their trip was almost due south and the dominant winds pushed from behind nearly the entire distance.

We did the trip the hard way. Northern Florida is just about as far west as you can get on the east coast. So, we sailed 955 nautical miles east—into the wind—before we could turn south to reach our goal.

Doable, but it was slower and harder on a body and a boat.

The Caribbean 1500 also insists on crews of at least three people per boat. This would have been lovely.

With just the two of us, Dave and I were on a constant rotation of watches.

Adopting author Beth Leonard’s recommendation for each of us to take at least one long sleep per day, we found ourselves refreshed when the seas were quiet enough to sleep.

Otherwise, we became exceptionally fatigued. Worse yet, it is necessary on WILD HAIR to manage the main sail halyard at the mast; our lines do not come into the cockpit. So, every time we reefed or let the sails out we did so as a team—further disrupting our partner’s rest.

Ear plugs and a lee cloth gave us the peace we needed to rest offshore

Depending on our 15-year-old auto pilot with no back-up was also fool-hearty. If it had failed, our exhaustion would have increased exponentially.

Were we to go offshore again, we would certainly equip ourselves with a wind-vane or a third crew member.

Late in the trip I learned another dangerous lesson: no-wind days can be as risky as heavy weather storms.

Here is a scary story from my journal on the day we were becalmed:
“Imagine a lumberjack camp. In it, a 60 foot crane lifts a ten foot log on a rope. The crane swings right and left 15 feet in each direction until the log arcs wildly. It only takes two or three strokes.

This is what happened this morning as we took the whisker pole off the forward sail. Dave was standing on the bow as I furled the sail in from a winch at the stern. I heard a strangled call and as I looked up Dave fell backwards onto the deck. The log/whisker pole swung wildly from the top of the rocking mast clearing him by inches as he fell. The pole easily could have knocked him overboard. It easily could have knocked him out.

Luckily—and it was sheer luck—Dave saw the pole coming out of the corner of his eye and dropped. On the pole’s next pass, Dave caught it and the drama was over. It was to date our most frightening moment and the whole event happened in less than 10 seconds on a sunny day in calm seas.”

• On the spiritual side

Heather and Dinghy the Sailor Cat take watch at the helm

We learned anew that we carry people with us forever

On the spiritual side, although Dave and I did not discuss these unusual happenings until the last day, we both heard and could not help but respond silently to a crowd of people as we traveled.

At sea, childhood friends joined us as companions at the helm. Elsewhere, we heard voices from family members encouraging us, laughing with us, or chiding us to do better. It mattered not if people were long dead or if we hadn’t spoken to them in decades; they were actively engaged with us on this journey.

Taking note of the people that accompanied us was fascinating. We learned anew that we carry people with us forever, and—everyday—they help shape our understandings and our actions.

I also learned anew that nothing stays the same.

In my journal I wrote:

“This is a blissful moment. Gun shy about how quickly our fates change, I am no longer presumptive enough to call it a ‘beautiful day;’ I can only vouch for this moment. In 20 minutes everything may be different.

The sea is teaching me about the dynamic and ever changing flow of life. I cannot hold anything forever. Nothing stands still in time. Absolutely nothing is permanent. But, this present moment is heavenly.”

Finally, after two weeks at sea, I had something of a spiritual insight as we approached land.

Here is what I wrote the morning of the last day:

“I am at the helm as the sun teases the horizon at dawn. The lights of St Thomas are visible like chunky sugar crystals on a Christmas cookie in profile, gold and red.

For the past several years of our sailing life, I have been acutely sensitive to the cruelty with which people treat each other. Every time Dave and I re-emerge from an extended sailing trip and come back into the US culture of media and financial markets, we are stunned by how badly people behave: spiteful politics, greedy business decisions, and selfish personal indulgences. None of this is new to the history of mankind. What is new to me is the degree to which bad behavior saturates every aspect of our collective lives. It is the fascination and allure of news casts, the tantalizing plots of sitcoms, and the root of catastrophic economic loss. Constantly turning off the TV, I find it almost more than I can bear.

“But this morning, with the sugar crystal lights of St Thomas on the horizon, I saw nothing but the beauty of mankind. We take care of each other through the gift of light in the dark night. Art, literature, science, medicine, environmental protection, and education are all evidence of our nurturing higher selves. Food—the act of growing, storing, preparing, serving, and eating is a reflection of kindness one for another. All of civilization is a testament to our love. Civilization is the creative energy and celebration of our coming together.

“I am so relieved. Now, I can see the beauty that counterbalances the chaos of petty ways. Now, I have a salve for the pain. The ugliness becomes mere background noise to the greater story arch of human inspiration. “

Fatigued but happy, Dave and Heather arrive safely to St Thomas, US VI

These were a few of the experiences that re-molded me on my time at sea. I am not exactly the same person I was just months ago. I am humbled and made stronger by the challenge. I am a better sailor and my heart has opened a bit more.

These are lessons I could not have learned by staying home. It is necessary to leave the safety of the shore to be reborn by the sea.

About Heather Mann

Sailing adventurer and freelance travel writer Heather Mann lives aboard Wild Hair, a 1994 45.5 foot Hylas sloop.

With husband and cat, Heather has cruised nearly 10,000 miles in four years, sailing from the Mid-Atlantic States to the south-east Caribbean.

She is a dedicated student of Buddhism, practicing under Vietnamese Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh. In 2006 at Plum Village—Nhat Hanh’s monastery in Bordeaux, France—Heather was ordained into the core community of the Order of Innerbeing.

Currently, Wild Hair is sailing the waters of Grenada.

Hear more about her travels at AdventuresOfWildHair.blogspot.com.

Read also on this website

• Heather brings her meditation practice aboard, by Heather Mann

What have you learned on your offshore passages?

Let us know.

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

Seven Seas Cruising Association Annapolis Gam Camp Letts, Edgewater, MD Read more]]>

Good news! Beth Leonard – circumnavigator, author, and Women and Cruising contributor -  will be in the US this fall sharing her recent travels and cruising experience in a series of seminars. Here’s her schedule. – Kathy Parsons

September 25-27, 2009

Seven Seas Cruising Association Annapolis Gam
Camp Letts, Edgewater, MD
http://ssca.org

Cruising the Chilean Channels and Cape Horn

Stretching northward from Cape Horn along Chile’s west coast lies a 1,000-mile long archipelago of islands and channels, narrow sounds and glacier-studded fjords with only a handful of settlements. Cruising this magnificent area means braving gale- to storm-force winds on a weekly basis, facing hurricane-force williwaws capable of knocking a 50-foot boat flat and being totally self-sufficient for months at a time. Beth Leonard and her husband, Evans Starzinger, have spent a total of two years cruising the Chilean Channels aboard their 47-foot aluminum sloop, Hawk. Beth will share their lessons learned and their many adventures during three transits of the Chilean channels. Join her and sail in front a glacier face, frolic with dolphins and sea lions, wonder at the raw beauty of vast snow-covered mountain peaks dropping down to the sea and sail to legendary Cape Horn in 60-knot winds.

- – - – - – - – - – - -

October 8-12, 2009

Annapolis Boat Show, Cruising World presentations
Annapolis, MD
http://www.usboat.com/us_sailboat_show.php

Dollars and Sense: Getting the most out of your cruising budget

Don’t let your cruising plans become a casualty of the economic meltdown. Find out how much it will cost you to go cruising and how you can minimize your budget and control expenses. The detailed budgets of three boats – Simplicity, Moderation and Highlife – will be used to illustrate today’s range of cruising budgets and allow you to build a realistic estimate of your costs category by category. See how overall costs depend on the size and complexity of the boat and the luxuriousness of the liveaboard lifestyle, and how a cruising dream can still be realized even on a shoestring budget.

Glacier Island: The Magic of South Georgia

Join Beth Leonard for a voyage south of the Antarctic Convergence into the ice-strewn waters of South Georgia Island. Share with her the challenges of anchoring in storm-force winds and hurricane-strength williwaws, of navigating through bergy bits and growlers, of enduring blizzards and ice-cold water. Meet the island’s inhabitants: elegant king penguins, comical elephant seals, aggressive sea lions, majestic albatrosses, and the dedicated researchers who spend months at a time studying these endangered species. Witness the breathtaking beauty of the dramatic scenery, and come to appreciate both the challenges and rewards of sailing to a still-wild place to experience firsthand nature’s abundance and splendor, savagery and indifference.

- – - – - – - – - – - -

October 15, 2009

Mystic Seaport Adventure Series
Mystic, CT
http://www.mysticseaport.org/

The Great Capes

When the only route from Europe to the Spice Islands and China lay through the Southern Ocean, most sailors passed beneath the Great Southern Capes – Horn, Hope and Leeuwin.  Today, very few cruising sailors brave the tempestuous Southern Ocean to double these infamous capes.  Over the course of a ten-year circumnavigation aboard their 47-foot aluminum Van de Stadt Samoa, Hawk, Beth Leonard and her partner, Evans Starzinger, passed under the three great capes as well as the two ‘lesser’ capes at the bottom of Tasmania and New Zealand.  On the way, they faced storm-force winds, dangerous seas, freezing temperatures and broken equipment, but they also came up against what they had believed to be their own limits and were forced to pass beyond them.  Beth will share the story of both voyages – their physical passage through the Southern Ocean following in the wakes of the great sailing vessels of bygone days and their personal journey that strengthened them as individuals while challenging and then tempering their relationship.

- – - – - – - – - – - -

October 20, 2009, 7:00 PM

Dewitt Library
Syracuse, NY
http://www.dewlib.org

Join Beth for a thirty minute slide show and readings from Beth’s most recent book, Blue Horizons, followed by a 20 minute question and answer session and book signing.

- – - – - – - – - – - -

October 29, 2009, 7:00 PM

River’s End Bookstore
Oswego, NY
http://www.riversendbookstore.com/

Join Beth for a thirty minute slide show and readings from Beth’s most recent book, Blue Horizons, followed by a 20 minute question and answer session and book signing.

- – - – - – - – - – - -

November 8, 2009

May Memorial Unitarian Universalist Church
Syrcause, NY
http://www.mmuus.org/

Glacier Island: The Magic of South Georgia

Join Beth Leonard for a voyage south of the Antarctic Convergence into the ice-strewn waters of South Georgia Island. Share with her the challenges of anchoring in storm-force winds and hurricane-strength williwaws, of navigating through bergy bits and growlers, of enduring blizzards and ice-cold water. Meet the island’s inhabitants: elegant king penguins, comical elephant seals, aggressive sea lions, majestic albatrosses, and the dedicated researchers who spend months at a time studying these endangered species. Witness the breathtaking beauty of the dramatic scenery, and come to appreciate both the challenges and rewards of sailing to a still-wild place to experience firsthand nature’s abundance and splendor, savagery and indifference.

- – - – - – - – - – - -

November 13-15, 2009

Seven Seas Cruising Association Melbourne Gam
Melbourne, FL
http://ssca.org

Hands-on Weather

Gridded Binary Files, known as GRIBs, have all but replaced weather faxes, voice broadcasts and most other forms of weather forecasting for offshore sailors. But interpreting GRIBs and using them well takes an understanding of their limitations and some experience in reading the information presented. To find out how a veteran cruising couple really uses GRIBs for weather forecasting at sea, join Beth Leonard for a passage from French Polynesia to Chile through the Southern Ocean. See the exact GRIB files she and her husband, Evans Starzinger, downloaded and how they used those to pick a weather window and then to route themselves through the complex weather features on this 24-day, 3,800 nautical mile passage.

Glacier Island: The Magic of South Georgia

Join Beth Leonard for a voyage south of the Antarctic Convergence into the ice-strewn waters of South Georgia Island. Share with her the challenges of anchoring in storm-force winds and hurricane-strength williwaws, of navigating through bergy bits and growlers, of enduring blizzards and ice-cold water. Meet the island’s inhabitants: elegant king penguins, comical elephant seals, aggressive sea lions, majestic albatrosses, and the dedicated researchers who spend months at a time studying these endangered species. Witness the breathtaking beauty of the dramatic scenery, and come to appreciate both the challenges and rewards of sailing to a still-wild place to experience firsthand nature’s abundance and splendor, savagery and indifference.

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December 5, 2009

Windjammers of the Chesapeake
Severna Park, MD
http://www.windjammers-chesapeake.org/bin/main.php

The Great Capes

When the only route from Europe to the Spice Islands and China lay through the Southern Ocean, most sailors passed beneath the Great Southern Capes – Horn, Hope and Leeuwin.  Today, very few cruising sailors brave the tempestuous Southern Ocean to double these infamous capes.  Over the course of a ten-year circumnavigation aboard their 47-foot aluminum Van de Stadt Samoa, Hawk, Beth Leonard and her partner, Evans Starzinger, passed under the three great capes as well as the two ‘lesser’ capes at the bottom of Tasmania and New Zealand.  On the way, they faced storm-force winds, dangerous seas, freezing temperatures and broken equipment, but they also came up against what they had believed to be their own limits and were forced to pass beyond them.  Beth will share the story of both voyages – their physical passage through the Southern Ocean following in the wakes of the great sailing vessels of bygone days and their personal journey that strengthened them as individuals while challenging and then tempering their relationship.

Beth Leonard and her husband, Evans Starzinger, have completed two circumnavigations and logged more than 110,000 nautical miles. Between 1992 and 1995, they sailed westabout by way of the Panama Canal, Torres Straits and the Cape of Good Hope aboard their Shannon 37 ketch, Silk.

They spent four years ashore building their 47-foot aluminum Van de Stadt Samoa sloop, Hawk, before leaving again in 1999. They have just completed a ten-year, eastabout circumnavigation by way of all of the Great Capes that took them as far north as the Arctic Circle and as far south as Cape Horn.

Beth and Evans both write for the sailing magazines and have recently had articles appear in Cruising World, Practical Sailor, Good Old Boat and Yachting World. Beth is the author of three books: The Voyager’s Handbook
, Following Seas
and the award-winning Blue Horizons
.

More information:

Beth and Evan’s website

Beth’s seminar schedule

Beth and Evan’s blog

What Beth likes most about cruising (Women and Cruising article)

“Let me tell you how Yvonne chooses how we cruise. May I add here she has never taken ...Read more]]>

Gwen Hamlin devoted her April and May 2009 Admiral’s Angle columns to “How We Choose Where We Cruise”. Here the husband of one of the Admirals throws in his two cents:

“Let me tell you how Yvonne chooses how we cruise. May I add here she has never taken me to a place I have not immensely enjoyed in the last 45 years of cruising.

We were heading from Tobago to Venezuela and as we came out into the bumpy ocean she cried, “The bloody wind is on the nose again”.  She changed course and when I awakened to a rollicking sail we were heading North to a new destination.”

- Bernie Katchor, s/v Australia 31

(Bernie’s wife Yvonne is one of the Admirals that contribute to Gwen’s monthly Admiral’s Angle column in Latitudes and Attitudes magazine.)

More info

• Check out Bernie and Yvonne’s website: www.berniekatchor.com

Related articles (on this website)

• Gwen’s Admiral’s Angle column “How We Choose Where We Cruise” – Part 1 and Part 2.
• Take Your Passion Cruising: Birdwatching

How do you choose where you cruise?

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