In another month, I’ll be at sea. I found out in the spring that when a sailor plans a voyage, often the destination differs from the one hoped for….

I set off from the Dominican Republic hoping to catch the trade winds to pull me south to New York City. Then up the Hudson, through the Erie Canal to take me home to Lake Ontario. The weather seemed perfect.

My weather Guru Chris Parker disagreed. “You will have four days of no wind,” he explained. “I suggest you stay south of Turks and Caicos, then travel along the Bahamas chain. You may want to duck into the Abacos on Day 5….there’s a storm coming!”

I sighed. Such was sailing. An eight-day trip to New York City now turned into a detour to avoid not enough wind, then too much wind.

An email from Scarano Boatworks in Albany, New York, suggested I look at alternatives. They were the ones who were going to remove my mast and ship it to Oswego so I could motor up the Erie Canal. “Lock 17 is washed out from floods,” they said. “It may be six weeks before you can make it up the lock system.”

Another deep sigh. I checked Google Maps and looked at alternatives….. In keeping with sailing traditions, I headed to a destination I had no intention of visiting. Herrington Harbour North in Deale, Maryland at the bottom off Chesapeake Bay.

Martin, my nephew from Germany, had to forcibly jump ship in Charleston after a disagreement with the US Customs and Border Protection. The $700 fine was preferable to jail time and a trip to Venezuela… My skeleton crew needed to get back to Toronto. So we headed out in a thunderstorm to Chesapeake bay, some 400 miles to the north.

Sailing up the Chesapeake at night in the pitch black dodging the container ships that come barreling down the bay from Washington and Baltimore is frightening. “Do you think we should take them on starboard or port?” asked Will. We both stared up at the bow of a massive Hyundai container ship bearing down at us at 20 knots.

‘By the time I answer the question, it will be too late,’ I thought to myself.

“Keep the same course,” I said in a shaky voice, as I tightened the straps on my life vest. “You are doing great.”

Entering Herrington Harbour Marina was a very pleasant experience. The staff greeted us like old friends, even though we had never been there before. They made arrangements to pull the boat out of the water in a few days. There was work to do replacing the bow thruster, painting the bottom, waxing the hull, to get her ready for the next trip south.

I had work to do before that though. The sails needed to come down and get repaired. The boomvang was broken and needed to be replaced, and the out board engine needed servicing.

The next adventure begins in thirty days. I’m heading to Antigua with two sailors who have sailed south with me before. One question that might cross your mind is why would anyone want to do through this. The first thing that is important to understand about sailors is….. well…… they are not normal. It is not so important to sailors that we end up going to places we had no intention of visiting and that it matters little to us how long it takes to get there. But there is something magical about the ocean. At some points we will be 700 nautical miles from the closest land. We will go through storms, clinging onto the lifelines to prevent ourselves from getting washed away. Stuff will break. More stuff will break. We will arrive somewhere….eventually… happy and pleased. Imagine

Imagine feeling like you are truly alive. You and the boat against the elements. Imagine watching the sunset every night marveling at the kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges and reds lighting up the clouds. Imagine staring up at the stars for hours while on your night shift at the helm. Imagine feeling at peace….

My Novels

Coming soon……