Caribbean Racing

HIHO regatta

by Ryan Jolley, Posted March 9, 2009
"Take your time, nice and slow," said our captain ever time anybody stepped on the dinghy, and it soon became the motto of Bonac Witch, a Moorings 4300 catamaran that served as one of the spectator boats for the 24th annual Highland Spring HIHO Regatta in the British Virgin Islands. For my girlfriend, Taylor, and me, taking it nice and slow was exactly what we
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Northwest

Charter in the San Juans

by Robby Robinson, Posted March 9, 2009
"It really was warmer last week (last month/yesterday).”

We heard that refrain throughout our brief week’s cruise. Wherever the warmth was, we missed it. Chartering in mid-August in the San Juan Islands, the storied archipelago of the Pacific Northwest, we weren’t prepared to don multiple layers, burrow in sleeping bags, and crank up our in-cabin heater every morning.


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Australia

The first Europeans to come to French Polynesia were Spanish and Portuguese explorers, in the early 17th century. They were followed by a Dutchman, Le Maire; the British; the Frenchman Bougainville, in 1768, who at least gave his name to a plant; and Captain Cook in 1769 (to observe the transit of Venus), 1772, and 1779. It seems fair to say that they were all overwhelmed by


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Seamanship

The Zero Knot Sailor

by Sail Staff, Posted February 5, 2009
High and dry in the unchanging latitude of my zero-knot armchair, I was an excellent sailor. Always at the ready, nimble and knowledgeable, never seasick or tired—I was eager, eternally young, and unafraid.

You need only ask some of my former illustrious shipmates. Joshua Slocum, Sailing Around the World Alone, found me a stalwart companion. With Richard Henry Dana, Jr., I spent


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Caribbean Racing

Bahamas Sloop Winds

by Sail Staff, Posted February 5, 2009
Northeast trades: 25 knots, gusting 30. The quarter-wake hissing.

My 29-year-old son, Noah, and I had just shaken out the reef in the mainsail on our little Bahamas sloop and fallen off onto a reach in the lee of Great Guana Cay when we saw the old salt.

Screaming out of the settlement’s harbor, he held the tiller of a sky-blue sailing skiff with a casual at-homeness I have seen only


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