We put Gerty to bed at the end of April. We undressed her, sail by sail. We bathed her, scrubbing the hard-to-reach places, and lovingly oiled her engines. We even sewed new hatch covers before tucking her into the boatyard…

With twenty-somethings, you have to wait for it—that moment. I thought it would come the instant they plunged into the warm, turquoise water, officially washing New York City off their skin. But it didn’t. Nor did it happen at the…

Chapter 12: Foiling & Fixing I swore I would never do it. It was too dangerous, and I was too old. But then Carine did it—so, of course, I had to try. I didn’t enjoy being launched out of the…

Chapter 8: 34,000 Steps  To truly experience Mangareva, you have to walk its gravelly, cracked streets. We walked twelve miles. We passed the medical clinic and the man with the missing finger, climbed the hill where the bananas grow, and…

Chapter 4: Day and Night The air is still. I hear water lapping against the hull, roosters crowing, dogs barking, and a flag flapping gently in the breeze. In the distance, Polynesian music drifts through the air—a ukulele twangs, falls…

Au revoir, Gambier! If it weren’t for the rainbow shooting out my toe, I would feel glum watching your islands fade into the distance. Instead, I’m taking my best memories with me and looking toward a colorful future with no…

Ships log - January 08, 2025 - : Jill’s watch. S 20°04.1 W138°25.1, Spinnaker and Main with preventer on. TWS 10.7 AWS 6.6 SOG 6.7 AWA -97° TWA 142° Mast angle -30.5° Leaving a place, any place, where there’s a…

Ships log 01-07-2025 08:00. We went through the Hao pass at 06:30 with 2 knots of incoming current against us and 9 knots of wind on the starboard stern quarter. Thirty minutes past slack, the water was turbulent with no…

If life were like an ultra-absorbant boat towel, then it’s safe to say Zachary, Michael, and I just spent ten days ringing out every last drop of water. Zachary arrived, Fantasy Island-style, in a small plane. The scent of frangipani…

Rainy days are rare here. Hence, they are special. They are a time for walks between the raindrops on the motus, escaping the chill of a dinghy ride by jumping into the warm water, and snuggling up to write about…

In New York, the 7:30 a.m. rush hour looked like this:  Try hard to remember where I parked my car and hope there isn’t a ticket on the window Get in and toggle the dashboard buttons to National Public Radio…

The thing about sailing is that to get from one place to another, we must sail. Come with me and let 10 knots of wind on the beam blow through your hair. See the sun perched in the middle of…