It has been quite a week as I spend time with members of the American Society of Marine Artists here in Antigua. For several days, with a rental car, I shuttled them to beaches and lookouts so they could spend time painting. It has been wonderful to see what they come up with in just a few hours.

My friend Patrick, and president of the group, when asked how long it takes to do a painting. “A few hours? a few days? And 20 years of practice.”

I guess that’s a lot like being a ballerina. It looks easy if you practice for 10,000 hours.

Anyway, I have been following them around and it’s been great to see how things progress as they choose a spot to paint and begin laying down layers of paint, trying to capture what lies in front of them.

It’s been quite windy so finding a spot with a great view where their easels would not blow over has been tough. Alexandra and Patrick checking out spots.

Keith tucked in behind a wall in the fort.

Bill, the watercolorist in the group, tucked into a door in the old fort to get out of the wind.

Later that afternoon we were lucky to have the opportunity to visit a friend’s home on the point across from the fort.

I shuttled the group in a rental car, making a few trips to get everyone there. They couldn’t believe the view.

Some of us that aren’t artists just enjoyed the view and beautiful infinity pool.

I brought along a jar of rum punch from the Admiral’s Inn along with some wine and cheese. Not a hard drinking group and we all took in the magnificent view.

It was interesting to see the artists critiquing each other’s work. Comparing styles and generally having a nice time.

The artists painted all over. Russ chose to hang out in Nelson’s Dockyard to take in the place. I don’t know how he keeps it up with constant interruptions from tourists. “Hey, is that a painting? Did you do it yourself? How long does it take?”

While we were there one beautiful yacht after another entered the harbor. This is the 200′ long Adix, still beautiful after 40 years of sailing. When she races she has a crew of 30+. Big boat…

And speaking of boats, my friends Jamie and Jill hosted us for an afternoon outing on their beautiful catamaran. It was quite rough in the ocean so we anchored off of Pigeon Beach for a swim and to just “chill”. A very nice time and really appreciated by the group.

El Presidente, Patrick aboard,.

We had such a nice time. Jioia is more like a comfortable condo than a mere boat. They even have an icemaker.

Another big highlight of the day was a visit from His Excellency, Sir Rodney and his wife Lady Williams. To give context to their position, Lady Williams will be participating in a forum hosted by the First Lady next week and after that, they fly to England to meet with the King and Queen. Antigua is hosting a major gathering of the Commonwealth Nations in Antigua next November. Sir Rodney reports directly to the King and is a very impressive guy. I have had the pleasure of meeting with him a number of times including my first visit that I wrote about in this post. The meeting of the Commonwealth in Antigua takes place in November. It’s a big deal with thousands coming in from all over the world. It’s interesting to check out this link that describes the plan.

His Excellency and Lady Williams spent nearly an hour with us. I believe that they were genuinely interested and I am hopeful that this meeting will lead to something that can help the Society and Antigua.

Our group…

They both seemed to really enjoy their time with us. We certainly did. Adrian took this photo. Sir Rodney travels in a motorcade with a police escort, a security detail and a photographer. I hope to see a lot more photos of the event soon.

Patrick did a very nice job describing his work on a major painting that captured the dockyard as it was when Nelson was stationed here. He also spoke about the American Society of Marine Artists and why we are in Antigua. Based on our discussions, it seems that there is more opportunity. Note their photographer to the right.

Here’s Lady Williams conversing in German with Alexandra. Of course, Alexandra is German but we had no idea that Lady Williams spoke fluently as well.

There has been a lot of painting going on each day. I can’t show all of what the artists have done here in Antigua but i hope you enjoy a sample of some pictures that they have shared with each other on our WhatsApp group.

Patrick’s picture, painted from the private home overlooking Galleon Beach in English Harbor. He really captured the moment.

Alexandra did this piece out at Fort Charlotte at the mouth of English Harbor. Nice work on a very windy day. The artists had to hold tight to keep their canvases from blowing out to sea.

keith also had to hold tight onto his easel, and hat I expect, to keep things steady.

Bill has done quite a few paintings now. His picture of the entrance to Nelson’s Dockyard depicts a scene that would have been correct hundreds of years ago.

Russ even brought along a frame. He painted this in the Dockyard along side a very popular bar. I have had many beers at that bar over the years. Very nostalgic to me.

Adrian, our informal “official” photographer does amazing work. It’s hard to decide exactly what it is and if it’s even a photograph.

Today we began the day, with lots more activities still to come, on a harbor tour on a boat owned by the Admiral’s Inn. It was a very nice gesture. The group really seemed to enjoy the ride.

All and all, it’s been a whirlwind week and it’s hard to keep the constantly evolving schedule in my head. If it wasn’t for WhatsApp, I doubt that we would be able to keep on top of it all.

As they say, “But wait, there’s still more to come!”. After all of this, I think everyone will need a vacation.

Busy or not, I am having an amazing time with some very talented artists here in Antigua.

Well, I’m back in Antigua but this time with a small group of Marine Artists, members of the American Society of Marine Artists. The group is small but does very high quality work.

For many years I have been attracted to marine art and have had a number of friends that are quite accomplished painters.

When I was introduced to the president of this group, Patrick O’Brien, a few years ago, I offered to organize a number of in-person events for the group.

There have been a few so far and after having Patrick join me aboard Pandora in the Caribbean two years ago, we decided to try and organize a small artist event here in Antigua.

There will be events each day including painting on the beach as well as tours and meals together. Tonight we will gather for dinner at Pillars, at the Admiral’s Inn, a place where I have done events for years on behalf of the Salty Dawg boats when they arrive in the Caribbean each November.

I rented a car for a few days so I can ferry the artists around the island. I look forward to seeing how the picture turns out.

Here’s Keith painting on nearby Pigeon beach this morning.

Pigeon beach where a number of artists are painting today is beautiful

As the week progresses, I will surely post some images of the finished pictures.

And, speaking of pictures, I am staying in a lovely cottage overlooking Falmouth Harbor, Bougainvillea is one of a number of simple Caribbean cottages all connected by stone walkways. They are open to the weather and very charming.

My room overlooking the harbor. Kitchen, sitting area and bed. Very charming.

And some visitors, bannana twits. They are fruit eaters so I put out some sugar water.

Nice view of the harbor, even if Pandora isn’t there.

And, of course, what is a blog post about Antigua without a night scene of the yachts in the harbor?

We will have a whirlwind of activities over the week and compared to the months that we have spent here over the years, this seems like a real rush job. Hopefully the artists will feel that the experience lives up to the “hype” and in they will return with their artist friends.

The artists that are here with me for the week have very impressive pedigrees. Check out these links to their work. There’s quite a variety. Let me know what you think.

Patrick O’Brien, President ASMA  https://www.patrickobrienstudio.com/

Russ Kramer:  https://www.russkramer.com/

Bill Sutton:  https://williamsuttonwatercolors.com/

Alexandra Telghman:  https://www.alexandra-telgmann.com/

Keith Wilkie:  https://www.keithwilkieart.com/

Anna Bolton:  https://annaboulton.com/ Anna actually lives here and I am hopeful that she will join us for some events.

I’ve been pretty good at getting sailors to visit Antigua over more than 8 seasons now, so let’s see if I can make headway with artists. Who knows, it’s worth trying.

More to come as the week unfolds so stop back and see what’s next.

Anyone who spends time on the water—especially offshore—knows that the ocean can be unforgiving.

What complicates that reality today is the expectation created by modern technology. Starlink, instantaneous communication, and powerful weather tools like PredictWind can foster a subtle but dangerous illusion: that knowing more automatically means being safer. That’s only partially true.

As rally director for the Salty Dawg Sailing Association, I often heard comments suggesting that sailing in a rally meant help was close at hand. While excellent communication and shoreside support are valuable, they don’t change the fundamentals nearly as much as many believe.

Casual dockside conversations—especially with those who haven’t spent time offshore—often include some version of, “Well, it must be safer having others around in a rally.” They’re usually surprised when I explain that during an offshore passage we almost never see another rally boat, even when a hundred boats are out there together.

The tracking map reinforces the illusion. Watching dots crawl across the screen gives the impression that everyone is close. They aren’t.

The simple fact is that once you’re offshore, you’re subject to the same perils mariners have faced for centuries—albeit with better odds of a good outcome. You are essentially on your own. The real advantage of modern weather tools is not safety in the moment, but avoidance: the ability to steer clear of truly dangerous conditions, or at least receive enough warning to prepare when challenging weather is unavoidable.

Someone once told me, “A real sailor should be prepared for whatever they encounter. If they aren’t, they shouldn’t be out there. And if you’re prepared, just go—weather or not.” With the tools available today, leaving without the best possible information is not bold—it’s irresponsible, and it puts others at risk.

Most passages last a week or two. With good forecasting—both before departure and underway—it’s generally reasonable to avoid most conditions that would otherwise test the limits of boat and crew.

Good information, however, is only part of the equation. A successful voyage ultimately depends on the condition of the boat, the quality of preparation, and the conditions encountered along the way.

And just as important as all of that is attitude.

For many sailors, the Fisherman’s Prayer speaks directly to this point. The classic poem by Winfred Ernest Garrison goes like this:

Thy sea, O God, so great,
My boat so small.
It cannot be that any happy fate
Will me befall
Save as Thy goodness opens paths for me
Through the consuming vastness of the sea.

Thy winds, O God, so strong,
So slight my sail.
How could I curb and bit them on the long
And saltry trail,
Unless Thy love were mightier than the wrath
Of all the tempests that beset my path?

Thy world, O God, so fierce,
And I so frail.
Yet, though its arrows threaten oft to pierce
My fragile mail,
Cities of refuge rise where dangers cease,
Sweet silences abound, and all is peace.

Though not explicitly about sailing, Garrison’s words speak directly to our relationship with the sea.

Garrison was born in St. Louis in 1879, which surprised me. I had always assumed the poem was centuries old. More surprising still: he had never been to sea. And yet he captured, perfectly, the universal thoughts of anyone who has found themselves hundreds—or thousands—of miles from land in a small boat.

What technology cannot provide is nerve, patience, and judgment. It is attitude—every bit as much as electronics—that gives us our best chance of a good outcome.

Strip away shoreside support, Starlink, and the most current forecasts, and the truth remains: offshore, you take what you’re given and deal with it as calmly and deliberately as possible.

There’s an old adage: “If you feel like you should reef, you should have done so already.”

Last summer, on my approach to the coast of Portugal—the final night of a passage from São Miguel to Gibraltar—the GRIBs suggested 20–25 knots on the beam. What I found in the middle of the night was closer to 30–35. A big difference.

I was double-reefed with a partially rolled jib, but I should have put in the third reef. Once things were fully “on,” with waves occasionally breaking over the cabin top, I couldn’t bring myself to go forward to secure the clew. We did fine, but the boat was clearly overpowered.

I mention this because while I’ve used Chris Parker for weather routing throughout our cruising life, on that passage I only requested forecasts for the first few days. I assumed I could handle the rest unless something changed.

What I didn’t know—and learned later from Chris—is that models routinely underestimate winds immediately east of Portugal. I simply wasn’t as prepared as I should have been.

I strongly believe in using professional weather routing for the entire passage. In this case, I went against my own advice. We were lucky. Pandora came through without damage, and while it was tough at times, we were never in real danger. Still, luck played a role—and next time, on a 900-mile run, I won’t skimp on support.

Support or not, the truth remains:

Thy sea so great. My boat so small.

When acquaintances learn that we have a boat, one of the first questions is always, “How big is it?” My answer is, “That depends on how close you are to a dock.”

Pandora feels enormous when I’m inches from something hard. Hundreds of miles offshore, she feels very small indeed.

Those words—“Thy sea so great and my boat so small”—have been proven to me more than once.

I believe strongly that it is the skipper’s responsibility to use every available resource, even while accepting that offshore we ultimately rely on ourselves. One area that concerns me is what I think of as amateur weather routing—skippers who believe models alone are enough.

After more than a decade and over 30,000 bluewater miles, I’ve learned repeatedly that unless weather is your full-time focus, you simply can’t match the knowledge of someone who has spent years refining that craft.

A well-found boat, modern equipment, and weather support are only as good as the skipper and crew. To believe otherwise is dangerous.

As Malcolm Gladwell put it:

“It takes ten thousand hours to truly master anything. Time spent leads to experience; experience leads to proficiency; and the more proficient you are, the more valuable you’ll be.”

Getting on a boat—whether as skipper or crew—without using every available resource is folly.

A young friend recently asked me to serve as a reference when he signed on as crew for a late-season Annapolis-to-Caribbean passage. After answering the skipper’s questions about my friend, I asked what weather routing support he planned to use.

He told me—proudly—that he’d been in the Navy, had seen plenty of weather files, and didn’t need a router.

That worried me.

I cautioned my friend. Sure enough, they only made it to the mouth of the Chesapeake before turning back—the front they were trying to outrun arrived early. Could they have avoided this if they’d had professional support? Who knows, but my money is on the professional for good guidance.

Forecasts are far better than they were even a few years ago, but I’ve seen many passages where GRIBs painted one picture, only for reality to deliver something very different a few days later.

Conditions change.

One thing doesn’t.

Thy sea is so great, and my boat is so small.

No kidding.

It might be smooth sailing.

But it might not.

Sailor, take warning.

We often hear that there is no such thing as privacy on the web anymore and I suppose with social media and all the ways we share information about our lives, knowing that out there “somebody knows all about us”, should not surprise anyone.

Recently my friend Bill, who always ends his emails a statement making it clear that the content was not generated by AI, did a blog post recently about his years of cruising with his wife Maureen, as seen through the “eyes” of AI, discovering, much to his chagrin, that “he, her, they… know all”.

So, after 15 years of me and Brenda keeping our blogs I thought it would be interesting to see what sort of information Chat GPT knows about the two of us and and “his” take on that.

So, I asked: “What do you know about Bob and Brenda aboard SV Pandora? And, please summarize what you know about their time together for winters since 2012 when they made their first run south to the Bahamas. Please keep this to about 100 to 150 words.”

Answer(s), unedited from Chat GPT:

Using sailpandora.com and argoknot.com explicitly makes the contrast clearer and more nuanced. SailPandora presents sailing as a core organizing principle of Bob’s life: voyaging, seamanship, community leadership, and problem-solving are central themes. Sailing is not just an activity for him; it is a framework for purpose, learning, and engagement with others.

ArgoKnot, on the other hand, shows that Brenda’s relationship to sailing is contextual rather than defining. Her writing emphasizes observation, interior life, creative work, and adaptation. Sailing is the setting in which she lives, thinks, and creates—but not the goal itself. She often frames cruising as something she has grown into, negotiated, and reshaped to fit her own needs rather than something she sought for its own sake.

Together, the two sites reveal a partnership where sailing is Bob’s passion and Brenda’s chosen accommodation—made sustainable through respect, humor, and parallel but not identical fulfillment.

Ok, scary already especially since this is after scouring nearly 2,000 posts in a few seconds.

My next qestion to Chat GPT: “Tell me what you see about how they differ in where sailing fits into their lives together using www.sailpandora.com and www.argoknot.com for source material”

Answer: Bob is clearly the driving force behind their cruising lifestyle—sailing is his passion and central to how he structures their winters and adventures since retiring in 2012 aboard SV Pandora. He delights in passages, exploring new waters and engaging with the cruising community; it’s an integral expression of his interests and energy. Sail Pandora

Brenda, by contrast, participates willingly but more as a companion to Bob’s passion. She describes herself as a “reluctant sailor” and a “cream puff,” preferring her fiber arts like weaving, knitting, embroidery and other crafts. While she does enjoy time aboard and even incorporates her textile hobbies into cruising days, her heart often leans toward those creative pursuits rather than sailing itself. Sail Pandora+1

Together they balance Bob’s enthusiasm for voyaging with Brenda’s quieter, craft-centered engagement,.

Oh boy… I then asked to have it, he, she, they, to pick a few posts that specifically lead to observations about changing views

Here are specific blog posts and entries that support the observation about how Bob’s and Brenda’s views of cruising have shifted over the years:

From SailPandora (Bob’s blog) showing evolving cruising focus:

• December 2023 post — Bob reflects on broader, long-term goals beyond Caribbean cruising, contemplating Mediterranean/Europe plans, and acknowledges that Brenda isn’t as thrilled about long months aboard as he is.
• June 2025 passage post — Bob describes sailing nearly to the Azores, noting Brenda’s “nine seasons in the Caribbean was just about enough,” and how new cruising grounds (“crossing the pond”) became essential to keep the adventure alive.
• March 2022 post in Marigot Bay — Bob mentions Brenda being far more excited about their upcoming flight home than staying aboard, illustrating differences in cruising enthusiasm even mid-season. Sail Pandora

From ArgoKnot (Brenda’s blog) showing her evolving perspective:

• Recent posts (e.g., March 2024) — Brenda talks about wrapping up a tough season, with weather challenges and the routine of flying home after cruising, capturing a seasoned yet pragmatic perspective. ArgoKnot
• Posts tagged travel and sailing — She documents experiences ashore in the Azores or Antigua, blending cruising details with creative/artistic life, showing how her narrative is more about place and personal pursuits than sailing itself. ArgoKnot

These examples show how Bob’s writing has become more ambitious and goal-oriented, pushing to explore new horizons after many Caribbean seasons, while Brenda’s writing remains grounded in lived experience and personal rhythm, reflecting cruising in the context of daily life, creative work, and weather/weather-related comfort. The contrast between planning big cruising goals and documenting the lived, tactile experience of being onboard and ashore illustrates how their perspectives have matured and sometimes diverged since their first run south in 2012.

Brenda and I were stunned when we saw the near instantaneous answers tp some pretty specific questions and it does make me wonder where things are headed as this technology gets stronger, and it’s only beginning.

With the current administration ever more focused on getting their way and punishing those who disagree it is not hard to imagine this technology to extract just about everything you or I write and to use it to, well to do something really nasty to anyone that they disagree with.

All of this makes me think of a photo that my photographer friend Ed Gifford took of a crew member aboard the schooner Columbia when she was nearly swept overboard when we were out racing a few years ago. Yes, the waters are rising and raging…

It is clear that AI and the potential harm that can come from this power in the wrong hands, is pretty scary stuff.

Oh boy. Now I am stressed. Perhaps I will close with a soothing cloud picture, rainbow and all. With the onslaught of bad news from Washington these days, I definitely want to think that there is still something nice at the end of the rainbow.

Good or bad, we have no secrets.

I have often said that change by evolution is safer than change by revolution and changes that happen logically, building incrementally on what has come before are more manageable and generally less likely to lead to unintended consequences.

And, now that 2025 has come and gone, I realize that last year was indeed a pivotal one.

After nearly a decade of cruising the eastern Caribbean, to do a trans-Atlantic crossing and commit to a number of seasons of cruising the Mediterranean was in itself a big change. As jarring as it has been to give up winters afloat and summers at our “land home” in CT this “next chapter” as been a fairly logical progression of our cruising life together in a way that I might even label as “sustainable”.

This most recent chapter has taken me and Pandora “across the pond” and a logical, if big, next step in Brenda’s and my time together afloat. When we were in our 20s, back in the early 1980s, we purchased our first sailboat, a 20′ Cape Cod Sailboat, Tao. This photo was taken when we brought her down to Black Rock from her previous home on Mystic with our friends Chris and Pat. Brenda got terribly seasick on this two day run and made it clear to all that this was not a great start to a life of cruising together.

Chris and Pat, still close friends decades later, were our constant companions in those early years on weekend “cruises” around Long Island Sound.

Then everything changed with the arrival of our first son Rob. Notice that Brenda is wearing a hand woven shawl and hand knitted sweater. Nothing has changed in the fiber department after all these years. As I write this she is down in the studio warping up the loom for yet another project. And ditto for knitting. Always knitting.

She still loves scarves and has dozens, no hundreds. She can only wear one at a time and most days she is cycling through her stash as she did as we celebrated the 53rd anniversary of our first date recently. I don’t remember if she wore something knitted on that first date though.

Brenda’s “fiber” repertoire has grown substantially to include a lot more than just weaving and knitting. One thing that has not stood the test of time is fishing or even catching anything herself that might become dinner, for that matter. I expect that she knitted that sweater as well.

After those carefree years of no kids, everything changed but in some ways didn’t as we continued to spend many summer weekends afloat and our boys Rob and Chris grew up aboard a progression of bigger and much more complex, boats. That was a much simpler time for sure.

When I retired in 2012, with both boys grown and on their own by then, we were still in good health and not too old to “cast off the dock lines”, we headed south aboard our previous Pandora, our SAGA 43′, via the ICW, bound for the Bahamas. This was a huge adjustment for us as that trip took the better part of 8+ months, marking our transition from weekend to seasonal liveaboard cruising.

Our son Christopher , a grad student at Columbia at the time, rode his bike and greeted us as we exited Hell’s Gate and headed down the East River in Manhattan for points south.

He took what became, for us, an iconic shot of the evolution of our cruising life.

We raced, Chris on his bike, and us with the outgoing tide on our way to the Battery.

We barely outran (out floated?) him. He climbed over the fence at The Battery, to cries of “don’t jump, from bystanders. He didn’t..

We circled Pandora near the Battery, waved good by, and turned toward the lower bay. This shot of Brenda smiling followed a few tears as Chris faded into the distance.

We had a wonderful trip including a stop in Annapolis for the sailboat show and then on to Hampton VA where we began our run down the ICW, all the way to Ft Lauderdale and across to the Bahamas.

It was a big adjustment for Brenda, being away for so long and leaving all of her “people” behind. We worked hard to make Pandora, then a SAGA 43, feel like home. Flowers did a lot to make things seem right. The G&Ts and fresh oysters helped…

With regards to things staying the same, after all these years we still try to have flowers aboard Pandora and always at home. With Brenda’s birthday “celebration” mid January, and it’s a big one, celebrations began right after New Years with even more flowers than usual.

As we made our way south were able to anchor in some beautiful spots along the way like this creek between some abandoned rice fields in South Carolina.

With many stops along the way, some for a week or more, the trip from Long Island Sound to Florida took us 2.5 months. We were particularly fond of St Augustine where we had lunch at a café. Both then and now, waterside cafes remain a regular part of our routine. I expect that cafes will be an even bigger part of our time in the Med.

The knitting continued all the way south…

We spent much of the winter in The Bahamas that year and several more after that.

We weren’t ready for the impossibly clear water. We have been told that the clarity of the water in the Bahamas is unequaled. For sure, it’s clearer than in most of the Caribbean. It as easy to slip off the back of the boat and be able to see the anchor in front of the boat, sometimes upwards of 150 away.

And a LOT of sharks. Most of the sharks are harmless nurse sharks but I have never recovered from seeing “Jaws” and being in the water with something that big still isn’t my first choice.

Our boys visited us that winter. It’s hard to believe that they are both 40 now. And, Rob (on the right) has since married Kandice and we now have three grandchildren. With busy lives and a trio of children, joining us aboard is no longer on the agenda.

Chris has joined us a few times but he too is so busy that even getting time off isn’t easy.

Cuba beckoned during that very brief time in 2016 when things opened up. Sadly, conditions since then have been so much worse and now, with Cuba in the news, and leadership change all the rage in Washington, perhaps things will change there as well. Speaking of “evolution vs revolution” who knows how it will go for the Cuban people.

Never the less, being there was an amazing experience capped off by a live concert, one of the largest in history with 500,000 people, by the Rolling Stones.

All and all, an unequaled two months cruising the coast of Cuba. If you are curious, check out the many posts at these links, March and April 2016.

After that season we followed friends to the Caribbean and I became active as a board member of the Salty Dawg Sailing Association. The group has been running a rally from VA to the BVI for a few years and I successfully moved the destination to Antigua where it has been for 8 years and going strong.

We enjoyed cruising the islands south of Antigua for quite a few years but eventually Brenda decided that going to the same places year after year was getting old and wanted something new.

Her initial suggestion, somewhat serious, was to perhaps sell Pandora and stay close to home. She put it this way “let’s buy a little Beetle Catboat and you can sail it back and forth in front of the Essex Yacht Club and I will sit on the deck with a glass of wine and wave…”

Oh boy! I had to do something, anything, to avoid that.

Here’s an idea Brenda… How about the Med? Brenda had studied classics, Latin and Greek and had spent two semesters, one in Rome and the other in Greece. And so began a “slightly” desperate look for information that would appeal to her as the next option.

After a series of conversations with “those who have gone before…”, she agreed so off to the Med.

“Good save Bob!”

Ok, with that plan in place, I proposed to the Salty Dawg Board that we add a rally to the Azores and they agreed.

When I arrived in Horta, Azores, Brenda joined me and we explored the islands for a month before she headed to Scotland with a friend and I headed to spain. Along the way I “donated” part of my rudder to a pack of Orcas but given how much “mileage” I have gotten with the telling of that story, I guess it was worth it. If you somehow missed the orcas thing, follow this link. It was an experience…

I love giving presentations about all the great places that we have visited and it’s pretty clear to me that adding “orcas attack” to the description makes for a much more enthusiastic audience. Damage, sinking’s, death and orca attacks make for a compelling story and I will take orcas attacks over other “exciting” options any time.

All and all, lots has happened since 2012 when we first pointed our bow south toward The Bahamas but if someone had told me that we would eventually add Cuba, the Caribbean, a transatlantic and now the Mediterranean, I would have said “unlikely”.

And for much of that time, our boys saying “that’s just dad trying to make Mom like sailing.”

Likely or not, I like to think that all of this has been a logical progression involving lots of discussion, compromising and plenty pivots, but if anyone had told me way back when we were aboard our 20′ Tao, that I would be writing about sailing in the Med now, I would not have believed it.

And with a “near miss” of me on the river and Brenda on the clubhouse deck, I consider myself particularly lucky.

2025 has certainly proven to be a year of transition, well into our second decade of cruising together. Well, actually a lot longer than that given the fact that we began sailing together way back in Highschool.

With all of the cruising we have done together, crossing the Atlantic to begin our next big adventure, makes me appreciate, even more, that 2025 was indeed a year of transition.

Stay tuned and wish us luck…

Details to come.