The final countdown echoed across the bay, a long-anticipated moment: “5… 4… 3… 2… 1…BEEEEEEEEP!” Just like that, a flotilla of 140 yachts was off, sails hoisted all around, headed across the Atlantic, a 2,800 nautical mile navigation towards the Caribbean.
The immense fuselage of Flight Risk sits high up on the hard in the shipyard of Cape Marina. Cabinets, hatches, panels, and furniture are still open or missing as there is still much for the owner to refit.
Having sold our house and cars, we downsized our belongings and packed what was left onto our dream boat, a new-to-us 1990 Gemini 3200 catamaran, and set sail for a life on the sea.
We had one of the most frustrating AND breathtaking beginnings in Belize. We had just spent three and a half days on passage from Cuba to Belize, and sadly, less than 12 hours of that had enough wind to fill a sail.
Crossing the Atlantic Ocean under sail is the dream of many sailors, and my recent voyage from France to the Bahamas was an adventure filled with challenges, camaraderie, and the sheer beauty of open water sailing.
Steinbeck was a Nobel Prize-winning author famous for epic Americana including The Grapes of Wrath, Of Mice and Men, East of Eden, and Cannery Row. The latter brought worldwide fame to the Monterey Bay, where Steinbeck spent his formative years.
I’ve had a love of the sea for as long as I can remember. I did not have a boat growing up, but I had enough friends and extended family with boats that I spent time on the water every year as a kid, even if it was just a rowboat.
We overheard a conversation from a mom of twin toddlers discussing life aboard. Our first reaction was, “wow, that must be hard” but she sounded like she was having fun and life was grand.
Back before the gray beard and “bald by choice” hairdo, when a tan was a permanent accessory and shoes were saved for special occasions, I had the distinction of answering that useless, I mean “timeless” question, “what do you do?” with a smile.
Daylight waned on Clarence Strait north of Ketchikan on Alaska’s Inside Passage. A building gale opposing the ebbing tide generated steep waves about thirty feet apart, the length of my self-constructed wooden cutter, Avalon.
