She Who Must Be Obeyed is a big believer in affirmations. Until she entered my life one spring vacation many moons ago, I freely admit that I didn’t know what an affirmation was. Or, at least, I did

Here’s a tip for productive use of that surplus time made available by pandemic protocols: Dive into your repository of disused sailing clutter and excavate your old loran receiver. You might need i

Sailing can seem bicameral—like a 50/50 Senate—split between racers whose passion is intense competition, strategy and speed, and cruisers seeking fun-in-the-sun and vacations to exotic locales.

Last weekend, with a fine breeze blowing, I decided to take the Laser out. Me to She Who Must Be Obeyed: “Hey, honey, do you know where my oxygen tank and mouthpiece are?” SWMBO to me: “Where t

We used to publish “green issues” of SAILING. The theme of these special issues was protecting the water and air in which we sail. A cover line on the 2011 green issue read: “Save the sea: What

Before Covid-19, sailing seemed stuck in place: it was the same boats moored in the same marina sailing to the same destination or starting on the same line and racing the same course against the sa

It’s blowing like stink. It’s blowing a hooley. It’s blowing dogs off chains. Anyway you want to say it, the breeze is up. The world and its waters are getting windier.  Increases in t

Full disclosure. I love showers. Hot showers. Long, hot showers. I have done some of my best thinking during a leisurely shower, and it reached the point where I installed my own waterproof notepad: a

I’m not qualified to fly an F-16 at Mach 2 (or any other speed) or climb El Capitan solo without a rope (or any other way), so I’ve had to find other outlets for occasional doses of adrenaline. On

The question I’m asked about most often is about family sailing. The scenario differs only slightly: Usually a parent of teenagers aspires to sail in a family group, but can’t convince the kids to

While being mildly entertained reading a novel titled “North of Havana,” one of Randy Wayne White’s water-based Florida capers, I bumped into this profound observation by the author: “It’s o

Didn’t you cut it a little close to Point Loma?” my friend Jon said on the phone the other day.   “What are you talking about?” I said. “I’m looking at the course you laid out to cl

When the coronavirus started taking over the dry-land world, I started planning my escape. It would be on sailboat, of course.     The First Mate and I would depart these troubled sho

Memories of post-race parties run together, but one stands out, not just for the fun being had (fun was definitely had) but for the shocking dockside news that awaited the unknowing fleet. After thre

I never could get the hang of birdwatching, which is all about seeing and identifying avians and making copious notes about the sightings in something called a life list. I did once manage to rec

It had never occurred to me, until this pandemic put everyone into self-imposed exile, that sailing is a magnificently and spectacularly solitary endeavor. I now realize that many of my best memories

I came across an old photograph the other day and was carried away by a wave of nostalgia. It was a photo of a person engaged in spinnaker flying. I don’t mean flying a spinnaker, as in settin

Sailing boasts unmatched power to make quick comrades from nemeses. For example, when climate change provocateur Greta Thunberg chose to sail across the Atlantic Ocean instead of flying, sailing soci