Caribbean Racing

Pacific Pearl

by Wally Moran, Posted March 23, 2011
Polynesian tradition has it that if you throw flower petals into the sea and they return to you, you will return to the islands.

I was in French Polynesia for the Tahiti Pearl Regatta, regarded by many as one of sailing’s premire regattas after only seven years in existence. I am pleased to report that many are very likely right.

My host for the regatta was Tahiti Tourisme, and true


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Expert Advice

The Family Way

by Peter Nielsen, Posted March 11, 2011
Before I actually took my family on a flotilla vacation, I couldn’t understand why anyone would take their family on a flotilla vacation. The mere thought of sailing along in a group of a dozen boats, being herded like sheep into marinas by some officious lead skipper, not to mention the forced jollity with total strangers, filled me with horror. After all, one of the reasons I go sailing is to
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Northeast

One Fine Bay

by Meredith Laitos, Posted March 11, 2011
The great thing about sailing in a new location for the first time is that you have no idea what to expect. Without a laundry list of hot-spots-we-always-visit, your itinerary is a blank canvas, ready to be painted and repainted as you see fit.

This was the case last April when a crew of comrades and I chartered a boat from Annapolis Bay Charters in Annapolis, Maryland, for a week of


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Europe

River Cruising

by Amy Ullrich, Posted March 7, 2011
A pamphlet I picked up in a tourism office in Cahors, the big city” of the Lot Valley, refers to the area as la France profonde (“deep France”). The phrase is in fact the title of a book by a French academic, Michel Dion, and refers to the culture and traditions of village life in rural France—the “real” France as it was. The pamphlet doesn’t elaborate further, but this
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Northeast We were ghosting toward the mainland, gybing back and forth to make the most of a faint morning breeze. The sun was out and it was hot. To the north I could see swells breaking over Horseshoe Ledge and a rock formation called The Drums. I was also keeping an eye out for lobster buoys. The tide was ebbing, setting up a wicked crosscurrent in spots, and I’d already been forced to alter course
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