Cruising Most Commented

Positive control astern

by Sail Staff, Posted April 6, 2009
Because a sailboat without a bow thruster lacks positive directional control when going astern at slow speeds, many skippers choose one of three options when it’s time to go into a slip. They go into the slip bow first; they stop at a right angle to the slip and then use dock lines to pull the stern in by hand; or they back down with enough speed on to maintain control.

The first option is


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Discovering nature on the half-shell

by Sail Staff, Posted April 6, 2009
We experienced a surreal moment as our family sailed into the Hood Canal, where snow-capped peaks beckon in the distance and temperate rain forests slope to a coastline fringed with sand beaches, gravel bars, and muddy tidelands. A wake rolled across the water’s surface, but there wasn’t a boat or a sound. The source of the mystery wake was Bangor Naval Submarine Base on the eastern shore, home
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Hole in the wall

by Duncan Gould, Posted April 6, 2009
From a mile out you see nothing but a sheer rock wall, 150 feet high and running both ways for miles. Run up to the north a bit and a sliver of a crack appears—the Hole in the Wall, one of Langkawi, Malaysia’s hidden jewels. Once you’ve butted through the tidal outflow, a view like a Chinese landscape opens. Mangroves line the shorelines, and limestone cliffs climb 500 feet
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Da' Big Fish

by Jack Foard, Posted March 20, 2009
The fat little neon-yellow bucktail with a red spot and some green feathers caught my eye. My experience in the Caribbean said “This is the lure you want,” so I bought three. I should have bought more.

I first wet this magic lure while sailing Famous Potatoes, our Admiral 38 catamaran, from Grenada to Los Testigos, Venezuela, and kicked ass. I caught a yahoo, two fat black-fin tuna,


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Dreams at Sea

by Dave Welch, Posted March 11, 2009
At sea I remember my dreams; at home I rarely do. Awakened frequently by a new sound or unexpected movement of the boat, I pop to attention with a dream still running in my head. I have to; my world floats just above the surface.

On a recent delivery from Charleston, South Carolina, to Tortola, BVI—eight days, but it felt more like sixteen—we pounded east and then south


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