Today we fly to Spain to begin our first season of cruising in the Mediterranean. This has been a long journey that began decades ago.

Brenda and I have been sailing together since high school in the 1970s, so at this point it takes something fairly significant to feel like new territory. This spring, I think we’ve found it. For the first two months, we will be heading out of Almerimar on Spain’s Costa del Sol and working our way east to — Cartagena, the Balearics, Corsica, Sardinia, until the beginning of June, where Pandora will be hauled in Sardinia for the summer. We’ll rejoin her in September for two more months aboard that will again include Sardinia, then heading south for a brief stop in Tunis to reset Pandora’s time in the EU to avoid the punishing cost of the VAT, before leaving her for the winter in southern Sicily. After this season? Who knows — likely farther east for a few more seasons of exploring the Med.

I will say that finding a way to become oriented to such a new area for cruising has been very challenging. In particular, finding a place to leave Pandora for three months in Sardinia, during the height of the season, at a price that I could afford was very tough. Using Navily to contact marinas, I sent out requests to dozens only to learn that the prices were just crazy. How about paying $12,000 for three months of storage? That was the highest but I finally found a place that would haul her for about $1,000 a month, all in. I could live with that. It turns out that there are not a lot of places that a boat can be hauled for more than getting work done and on-the-hard is less than even the least expensive in-water storage during high season.

How we got to this chapter is a bit of a story. After more than a decade of Caribbean cruising — the Bahamas, Cuba, the eastern Caribbean down to Trinidad, and just about everything in between — Brenda made it clear that it was time for something different. She didn’t specify where we should go next, only that “next” needed to happen. One of her suggestions was that we sell Pandora, buy a Beetle Cat, and she would sit on the deck of the Essex Yacht Club with a glass of wine and watch me sail back and forth in the river. Oh boy. Brenda, how about the Med? Fortunately, she agreed, so off we go.

My late father had once said to me, “Bob, wouldn’t it be great to take Pandora through the Straits of Gibraltar?” That comment had been rattling around in my head for years, and suddenly it seemed like a far better answer than a Beetle Cat on the CT River. Fortunately Gibraltar happened, not a tiny Beetle Catboat.

Last summer I sailed Pandora across the Atlantic as part of the first Salty Dawg Rally to the Azores — a rally I’d helped put together. After a month cruising the Azores with Brenda followed by what I’ll diplomatically call an “eventful” passage through the orca zone off Portugal, I made Gibraltar and hauled in Almería for the season. Brenda had joined me in the Azores for a month of exploring the islands, then flew to Scotland to pursue her own interests while I moved Pandora to Spain. She came home with a bag full of yarn. I came home with a lot of ideas about what lay ahead in the Med.

Our spring cruise runs April and May. We’ll start at Almerimar, where we have rented an apartment for a week while I we get Pandora ready to go back in the water. As soon as we can get a decent weather window we will make our first stop at Cartagena, which has one of the best natural harbors in the Mediterranean and more layers of history than you can take in on a short visit — Carthaginian, Roman, Moorish, you name it. From there we head out to the Balearics: Mallorca, Menorca, Ibiza, Formentera. I’ve heard enough about those islands from other cruisers that I’m genuinely curious to see them for ourselves.

One issue for us is that we really want to be home in CT for the summer so that forces us to head back to Spain a bit early when the weather is still a bit unsettled as is witnessed by this view of the gribs today.

Not a lot of wind near us. Pandora’s current location, Almerimar is noted with the western most arrow. After that, to the east is Cartagena and then Ibiza in the Balearics

Fast forward two days and there is a lot more wind and from the wrong direction, the north, which more often than not is the case, especially this time of year. I understand that strong northerlies are common all the time but more-so early in the season.

From the Balearics we’ll cross to Corsica and then Sardinia. Both islands have reputations among Mediterranean sailors of being amazing, and we are excited to check them out ourselves.

Pandora will be hauled for the summer in Sardinia. When we return in the fall we’ll continue exploring the island before heading south to Tunisia. That stop serves a practical purpose — boats in the EU are required to leave every 18 months or face a substantial VAT bill, and a run to Tunisia takes care of that — but it’s also simply a place we want to see. After Tunis we’ll run Pandora to a marina in southern Sicily, pack up, and head home for the winter.

Here is the current plan for our first season, spring and fall.

Two Blogs, One Boat

I write about the sailing side of things here — passages, weather, what breaks and how we fix it, the people we meet along the way. Brenda has her own blog at www.argoknot.com, where she writes about our experiences as well but focused on weaving, spinning, knitting, and the fiber arts traditions she encounters wherever we go. She found a weaver in the Azores, spent time at Harris Tweed mills in Scotland while I was moving Pandora to Spain, and has her eye on what the textile culture of the Mediterranean might have to offer. We often experience the same trip very differently, which I think makes the two blogs worth reading together.

If one of you is more gung ho about cruising perhaps a look at what we do to make it fun for us both will be helpful. Brenda describes herself as a reluctant sailor, which is fair enough — she prefers a quiet anchorage to a passage, and a yarn shop to a chandlery. But she has put in a lot of miles with me over the years, going all the way back to when we were in high school messing around in boats together. I don’t take that for granted.

If you have cruised these waters and have thoughts on anchorages, marinas, or places not to miss, I’d genuinely welcome hearing from you. There’s a lot of ground to cover and I’m still very much in the learning phase on Mediterranean cruising.

I hope that our posts will help pave the way for others to explore new areas so wish us luck as we prepare for what will surely be the biggest adventure so far in decades of cruising together.

More to come, for sure…

Brenda and I have always been passionate art lovers, and our home reflects that in every corner — a glorious jumble of fiber art, a few of my own furniture pieces, and just about everything in between. “Eclectic” is probably the polite word for it. It will never be mistaken for a spare, minimalist Hilton, that’s for sure — but there’s certainly plenty to behold.

My love of sailing and marine art eventually led me to the American Society of Marine Artists (ASMA), and that connection has opened some wonderful doors. Last week I accompanied a small group of very accomplished ASMA members to Antigua for a week of plein air painting at some of my favorite spots in English and Falmouth Harbors — and it was a tremendous success.

Brenda and I have been going to Antigua for nearly ten years. After my very first visit I became determined to move the Salty Dawg Caribbean Rally’s destination from the BVI to Antigua, which I finally accomplished about eight years ago. The fleet has since grown to roughly 80 boats making landfall every November.

Now with Pandora in Spain, Brenda and I head back to her next week to begin our first Med sailing season. Without the boat in Antigua, I needed another excuse to get back there — and the ASMA gave me exactly that.

I’ve posted about this trip a few times already, but it felt worth pulling together a proper summary. The genesis of the whole effort goes back two years, when ASMA president Patrick O’Brien visited the island with me. He fell in love with Nelson’s Dockyard and set about painting it as it would have appeared in the late 1700s when Nelson himself was stationed there. With research support from Dr. Reg Murphy, the island’s archaeologist and author of the UNESCO designation of the park, Patrick was able to reconstruct the scene with remarkable accuracy — the Dockyard, in many ways, still looks much as it did back then.

Dr Murphy gave us a private tour of the Dockyard, something he does only rarely these days. He is an engaging and knowledgeable story teller.

This is Patrick’s painting. It’s a very impressive piece at 36″ x 24″. Patrick gave a presentation about how he recreated the scene and unveiled to a small group at the Admiral’s Inn.

It will be displayed, for sale, at the Admiral’s Inn soon.

The painting attracted the attention of the Governor General, Sir Rodney and Lady Williams who joined us at the Inn to review the painting as well as meet the artists and see what they had done while on the island. It was a wonderful event and they stayed with us for an hour.

Sir Rodney travels with a photographer who shared a number of terrific shots of the meeting.

Sir Rodney and Lady Williams being greeted by Paul Deeth, owner of the Admiral’s Inn and our host for the visit. Paul has been very supportive over the years of all that I have tried to do on the island. It is a wonderful boutique hotel, steeped in history. They also have a two wonderful restaurants worth experiencing.

We gathered around for what was truly a wonderful event.

Patrick showed the painting to His Excellency who seemed quite taken by it.

He also reviewed some of the computer files that helped Patrick recreate the scene including computer renderings of individual buildings that he constructed with plans shared by Dr. Murphy.

Lady Williams was particularly interested in the artists and their work as she is heading up an initiative to convert the oldest Catholic Hospital into what will become a national museum.

She sent a photo of the building to me. This was the oldest Catholic Church on the island dating from 1747. The renovation is being funded, in part, by the World Monuments Fund

Each of the artists showed some of the pieces that they did while on the island.

One of Patrick’s paintings that wasn’t quite finished. Patrick O’Brien’s website.

And one of Keith’s works. A link to Keith Wilkie’s work.

And Alexandra’s, all the way from Germany. Alexandra Telgmann’s studio work.

A lovely picture by Russ. Russ Kramer”s work

And a very nice painting from the watercolorist Bill Sutton.

Of course, what is an audience with His Excellency and Lady Williams without a group shot. As always, when I meet with His Excellency, I felt very underdressed. And I was…

The artists were so impressed with the visit that they all decided to donate most of their works done on the island with the hope that they might find their way into the “new” museum.

The very next day Sir Rodney and Lady Williams flew to England where they were scheduled to meet with King Charles and Camilla to talk about the upcoming meeting of the Commonwealth, taking place in Antigua this November. Here is a photo of them at Westminster Abbey during the Commonwealth Reception in England meeting the King and Queen a few days later.

The meeting of the Commonwealth will take place in Antigua in early November and will bring leaders from all of the commonwealth nations in the world. This short video is inspiring and certainly has a different slant than the world view coming out of our own capital of late.

I can’t resist a wonderful photo of Sir Rodney and Lady Williams being greeted by the late Queen Elizabeth. There will always be a soft place in my heart for her.

The hope is that the museum will be ready for opening by November so perhaps some of the works donated by the artists might end up on display. There is also talk of a follow-on artist event to coincide with that meeting so who knows where all this will lead.

Heck, perhaps members of ASMA that travel to Antigua might also have an opportunity to meet the King and Queen. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

This might have been exactly what Patrick and Alexandra were thinking about as they watched the sunset on our last night in Antigua.

I have loved visiting Antigua for so many years that it seemed fitting to return again and bring along some very fine artists, now my friends, for a visit. I am hopeful that this event will set the stage for future events and it seems to me that in addition to the boats that Salty Dawg now brings to Antigua each fall that the ASMA event will become yet another way to celebrate Antigua, this time in art.

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.