Issue 148: Jan/Feb 2023
Twenty years ago, I couldn’t have imagined myself as a sailor, much less an editor at Good Old Boat magazine.
I grew up near Vancouver, British Columbia, one of the world’s great boating cities, with landlubber parents whose water adventures mostly consisted of renting paddle boats at a KOA campground. Aside from a couple of day trips on an uncle’s sailboat, I’d barely set foot on a boat growing up and couldn’t have told you the diff erence between an outboard and an outhaul. A cousin of mine lived for a time on a sailboat with his wife, an arrangement that seemed to me one step up from camping.
In 2002, I moved from New York to Seattle to take a job as an education reporter at a newspaper. I met my future husband, Marty, the next year at a house party. He was smart, funny, and handsome. He was also a newspaper reporter, played in a band, and lived…on a sailboat. I was skeptical. But his boat was a revelation. A 1984 Islander Freeport 38C, it was spotlessly kept and well-designed, with a functional galley, a stove and refrigerator, a pullman berth with doors and built-in bookshelves, a heater, and a head with a shower. This wasn’t just a boat for daysailing. It was a cozy and comfortable floating home.
Before long, we were heading out for sailing weekends and exploring Puget Sound’s many destinations. Our first overnight trip was to Blake Island, a marine state park about five miles west of Seattle that is only accessible by boat. After walking the island’s forested trails and exploring its beaches, we sat in the cockpit taking in the view of the downtown Seattle skyline. The city was just across the water but felt worlds away. I was amazed that we could enjoy this spectacular, serene place with virtually all the comforts of home. This was not camping.
I soon came to understand that I was living in one of the world’s great cruising grounds, a region with dozens of islands, miles of pristine shoreline and endless anchorages. I quickly fell hard, for the boy and the boat. I’d planned to spend a couple of years working in Seattle, then find another media job and move back to New York. One glorious summer day, as we sailed across Elliott Bay, the snow-capped Olympic Mountains towering in the distance on one side and Mount Rainier floating on a bed of clouds on the other, I was hit with a sudden realization. I’m not going back to New York, I thought. I’m staying here.
In the intervening years, our shared boating dreams grew and evolved. We got married and had a sailing honeymoon. We sold the Islander and bought a sailboat in Mexico that we decommissioned, trucked north, and recommissioned. A few years later we bought our current boat, a 1984 Passport 40 that we’ve spent the past decade refitting—a process that is thankfully almost done, to the degree that boat projects can ever really be finished.
We’ve spent most summers living aboard and winters working on our boat to make it the best possible boat for us. She’s taken us all over the Pacifi c Northwest, from Seattle to Alaska, and this past summer around Vancouver Island. Along the way, my appreciation for sailing has deepened beyond the sheer joy of moving from one place to another under wind power alone. I’ve become familiar with power tools and Tyvek suits. I’ve realized that sailing is not just a fun and challenging mode of travel, but a lifelong opportunity for learning. I’ve learned that restoring an old boat is a labor of love, and that the ability to visit extraordinarily beautiful places we otherwise couldn’t, while taking our home and our kitty with us, is a deeply enriching experience that far transcends the time, costs, and eff ort involved.
And I’ve found a community of like-minded folks, sailors from diverse backgrounds who are some of the most down-to-earth, interesting people I know. Some of them are now among our closest friends. I’m excited about contributing to that community in the pages of Good Old Boat, working alongside editor Andy Cross and the rest of the magazine’s stellar crew. I’ve been a journalist and communications professional for 20-plus years, and I’m thrilled to merge my passions for sailing and storytelling to help other boaters share their experiences.
