Columns

“Bad news, honey,” my husband, Leif, told me, “We own a sailboat.” That’s how I found out about the Cape Dory Typhoon Weekender.
I first went to New Zealand in 2006. I was 20 years old and setting off on my first long journey away from home, bound for Brisbane, Australia, for a semester of college at the University of Queensland.

Windshifts: A Semi-Pirate Story

by Ray Jason, Posted September 19, 2013
They didn’t hoist the Jolly Roger or fire a shot across my bow, but their intentions were worrisome. I was 80 miles off the coast of Nicaragua, on a rhumb line course from Panama to Key West. The seas were sloppy and felt more like Mother Maytag than Mother Ocean. My Spanish is bueno, and I had been trying to raise my visitors on the radio for 20 minutes. Surely the four hombres aboard the 70-foot rust museum weren’t blasting through these dreadful seas just to sell me a fish.

Into the Mystic

by Paul VanDevelder, Posted April 10, 2014
It probably started as an impulse gone wild, coaxed from my inner recesses by all that blue water, an empty wine bottle and the star-strewn lassitude of a midnight watch. 
I watched through stinging spray as my fiberglass dinghy was swamped, turned into a sea anchor, and then quickly snapped its painter as my O’Day 31 surfed down 6-foot seas on Long Island Sound. It probably was unwise to be out on the water that day.
I hate this time of year. Some of my friends wax rhapsodic about crisp fall air, the changing of the leaves and the coming holidays. But all I can see at the end of October is the end of the sailing season and the long winter stretching out before me.
One reason I like sailing is that it is one of the few endeavors in which the concept of individual responsibility still has meaning. It is much easier to blame someone or something else for the consequences of your decisions than to admit any fault on your own part—it goes back as far as Eve and the serpent—but on a small boat you soon run out of things to point your finger at. 

Voice of Experience: Communication Breakdown

by Carl Hunt, Posted October 31, 2013
“What we have here is a failure to communicate.” This famous line from the classic movie Cool Hand Luke is also a phrase that neatly summarizes a bareboat charter my wife, Nancy, and I recently enjoyed with friends in Corsica.

5 Lessons My Kids Learned from Cruising

by Owen Caddy, Posted March 30, 2014
When I asked my daughter, Tamsyn, 10, what she and her brother, Griffyn, 7, had learned while sailing aboard Madrona, our Tayana 37, she cited some obvious things...
In the early 1990s, my husband, Monty, and I took early retirement, stepped aboard our Gulfstar 39, Salsa, and didn’t come back to our home in Marblehead, Massachusetts, for five years.
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