A Step Back into My Joy

I just returned from a soul-soothing trip to Catalina for 5 days and 5 nights. Catalina island has become a sanctuary for my heart and soul over the years. Whenever I need to escape the energy of the city, I am grateful to be able to sail 28 miles across the channel and into her magical realms. I am a country girl at heart, and I grew up surrounded by nature and wide open spaces and that is always where I need to return when I get off-kilter, or city life starts to get the best of me. The ocean provides deep solace, but I need  earth energy to balance it out sometimes. Thankfully, Catalina has the best of both, reminiscent of my childhood home of Hawaii.

The day I left for the island, I was supposed to be racing (really, finishing a race), but I had to make a different decision. I have not been feeling 100% for some time, and I had to admit to myself that I was not up for it. The last two attempts to go offshore, and the resulting sea sickness, mixed with life’s challenges, have been taking their toll, and I knew it would’ve been too much. To admit this was very hard for me, but I also knew that it was essential to my well-being. The last two and a half years since my epic trip to Hawaii have turned out to be  among the most challenging of my life. They have marked the threshold into the next phase of healing some old wounds, for once and for all. My trip, and the heartbreaking loss of my dear Haunani, collided with my mid-life passage which has provided an opening in my being for this healing. It has been HARD, but I see the opportunity, and I am very grateful.

 Sailing is my solace, but lately it has started to feel more like a push I have started to feel the need to prove something, or do it a certain way. So instead of racing last weekend I returned to the sheer joy of sailing. I am so glad, because in allowing this, I was able to dig down and soothe some parts of myself that have needed love and tenderness and NOT pushing and proving.

The journey started with a night in magical Emerald bay, where I ran into, and got to share a meal with some of my PSSA compadres who had just finished the race. I then motored around to Cat Harbor early the next morning, where I moored for a couple of nights. The last two nights were spent in Moonstone Cove, where Cassiopeia was the lone vessel in the expanse of two mooring fields. It was beyond peaceful and soul soothing. My sweet soul sister Gabi joined me for the sail home on Thursday, where we had 17-22 knot winds providing a lively journey……with NO sea sickness thanks to Sturgeron!!

I have never seen the island so green and resplendent with wildflowers. Every place I looked seemed more magnificent than the last. There was hardly a soul around, and it felt like I had the place to myself. The island company offers a week for the price of two nights in the winter, so no one had to twist my arm to take the extra days to revel in it all. I took long, aimless walks with my Gracie, and also got to spend some time with friends. I ate simply and drank lots of tea on deck. I read, wrote, played my guitar, sang and just sat still. It was pure magic.

I became more skilled at beaching my dinghy alone (for dog trips to shore in the remote coves) with only a few of my famous beach wipeouts as a warm up. I spent my first night ever, alone in a remote place with no other boats (besides the middle of the ocean that is). I had 4/5 successful solo mooring pick-ups. And most importantly, I was able to emotionally and physically decompress in a way I haven’t in many months. The quiet and peace of the island seeped into my bones and soothed what ailed. As with every trip to that magical land, I started counting my days until the next trip before I even left.

I am eternally grateful for the blessing of my boat, and the beautiful sanctuary of Catalina Island which is always beckoning from right across our back yard!

A Filmmaking Adventure to Catalina

I had the incredible honor of hosting two amazing young women on my boat this month. Erica Mellon and Elle O’Brien are college students, and aspiring filmmakers. They approached me for advice a few months back, wondering about tips on making a film about a sailing adventure they are planning (It seemed that they thought I knew what I was doing when I made my film). I promptly gave my disclaimer and shared my self proclaimed title of accidental filmmaker, but that I would, of course do whatever I could to support them. Their project is very exciting, and as they share more, I will too!

We had a Skype call to get to know one another, and I have to tell you, that it was love at first sight. The light and enthusiasm that shone through the cyber waves from these young women inspired me on the spot and filled me with deep joy. Within about 10 minutes I had invited them to California to have an adventure to Catalina so that they could get the feel for life on a boat, and also make a practice film in the process.

My gut feeling was right, because having them with me on the boat for 4 days was a delight. We sailed to Catalina and even ventured around the backside for another perspective. Our conversations were profound and connected, and these 20-something women had me reeling from their depth and awareness.

Being with them was inspiring and deeply healing for me. Their presence and connected ways reminded me of something I lost track of in my life, which added a beautiful missing puzzle piece to my healing journey. I am so grateful to them for reminding me.

I am so excited to see their short film on our trip, and for a lifetime of friendship and collaboration. Love you guys!

Mother Ocean :: Home of Magical Mermaids and Beautiful Dreams

I met a magical mermaid sister today. It’s amazing to me how life brings people together. She is half my age, but from the moment we sat down, I could tell that we were kindred souls, and age did not matter one bit.  She joked that she meets people by being “stalker-y”, just because she likes their energy and wants to know them. In some situations people may get freaked out by that kind of thing, but I actually welcome it. I can already count 2 dear friends who have become my friends by being this way with me, and I have countless of my own that I “stalked” because I wanted to know them. Our techniques differ, but I wanted to take a moment and acknowledge that I feel that this “stalker-y” behavior is really just a version of following our intuition and surrounding ourselves with people who inspire or resonate with us. I am a firm believer in surrounding myself with people who lift me up and inspire me. Whether on a deep emotional level, or because they have achieved something I admire, I deeply heed Rumi’s advice: “be with those who help your being”. The more I do this myself, as well as allow others to approach me in this way, the richer my life becomes. 

Ever since I did the Singlehanded Transpac, and proclaimed my intention of wanting to support more women in getting on the water, I have been happily inundated with introductions to women who want to learn to sail. It is so exciting to hear of their dreams and goals, and to already see in my mind’s eye that they can achieve them, even before we sail together. Sometimes I think I am even more excited than they are.

I think I probably get more out of our meetings and sails together than they do. To see the light in their faces when they take the helm for the first time, or talk about their dreams of single handing a boat, or talk about getting their own boat one day, fuels me and reminds me of my own dreams. I can be transported back to the moment in 1999 when I singlehanded a keelboat for the first time, and a dream was born…which lead to the moment in 2000 when I decided to do my sailing certifications through US Sailing because I wanted to be a skipper and not just a crew…which lead me to the moment in 2004 when I decided it was time to take my sailing more seriously and buy my 1st boat…which lead me to the moment in 2013 when I bought Haunani and started sailing again after a five year hiatus…which lead me to the most fateful moment of all…when I decided to sail across the ocean alone, even though I had never done anything remotely close to that. We are all weaving a tapestry of dreams and goals, and we all have a hand in supporting each other in achieving them if we allow it. The strategic choosing, and the magical appearance of people in our lives that help us along the way is so wonderful…both from the perspective of supporter and the one being supported.

Today when this young woman was talking to me of her deep connection to Mother Ocean, it almost brought me to tears, and reconnected me with that place in myself that feels at one with the sea. In the end, all of this sharing, and supporting brings me back to our interconnectedness, and my deep belief that we are all here to lift each other up and “ to walk each other home”, as Ram Dass once said. I am so grateful for the tapestry that is made up of beautiful souls with whom I share this precious life!

Love Wins :: The Secret of a Successful Team

I was asked to give a little talk tonight at the Women’s Sailing Association of Santa Monica Bay (WSA). They had a speaker cancel so it was very last minute notice. Thankfully it is a casual crowd!  I will be speaking side by side with one of my favorite humans and sailing mentors, Kathy St Amant, to a group of women and men whom I admire and respect greatly. Needless to say, I feel very honored. They asked us to speak about racing in The Sunset Series, and our experiences of what it takes to put together a crew and campaign our boats. Since it is my first season, and Kathy’s umpteenth, we will have mostly different perspectives to share, but I believe that the common thread will be the way we view our crews and the experience of being on the water.

When I decided to race this year, I knew that I wanted an all-woman crew. People often ask me why, and my response is always the same. I am passionate about getting more women on the water, and what better way to contribute to that than starting with my own boat! Plus, I knew that it would be a positive experience, even before we gathered for our first race. I had a hunch that we would foster an environment of peace and mutual respect, that  we would have respectful communication, that we would lift each other up and support each other at all times, and, that there would be no yelling. Well, the no yelling thing is actually a rule on my boat, but I had a feeling that I would never have to enforce it! 

Please know that I have nothing against sailing with men, and in fact, I love it most of the time, and many of my mentors are men. I will say though, that sailing with an all-female crew is a pleasantly different experience than sailing with a mostly male crew. The energy is generally softer, kinder, more uplifting, more positive and more centered around personal and team growth. I am sold!! I chose my team based on the variety of experience we all encompassed, and the potential for us all to learn and grow together. The biggest “secret” about choosing my team was in choosing key people who were experienced racers who could guide our team, mentor me, and help me to become a better sailor. 

This is actually one of my secrets in life: Always surround myself with people who know more. This pushes me to learn and to always do better. I love being mentored and I love mentoring. This is why I chose my team the way I did. I fell in the middle of the spectrum on racing experience, and the circular nature of our mutual inspiration was amazing!

As I think about what I will talk about tonight, I think of all that my crew taught me. From the badass racers that are my tacticians to the less experienced racers (badasses in their own right), each woman taught me so many things! Things about: my boat, sailing, repairs, love, friendship, bravery, humor, sail trim, and humility. Every one of us showed up with an empty cup every day. We showed up open to what we had to learn from each other. Every one of us consistently extended love and warmth to each other and across the water to our competitors (even the ones who didn’t offer that in return).  This makes me more proud than any trophy or standing we could have won.

 As I wrote about in my last post, our season, and the experience of sailing with these amazing women surpassed every hope and expectation I had. To quote  Carrie, It was “pure fu*king MAGIC”!

I have officially been bitten by the racing bug, and am very excited for all of the adventures that await Team Cassiopeia and me! Our motto is Love Wins, and I can attest that it surely does!

Team Cassiopeia :: Our Last Race of The Season

Last night was our last race of the season in The Cal Yacht Club Sunset Series. I am so proud of our team. We finished 5th overall in our class (out of 19) in our first season as a team and my first season as a skipper in buoy racing. When we came together, we all brought different skills and levels of experience, and as the weeks went on, those were channeled into the well-oiled machine that is now our team. When we crossed the finish line last night, we were one, and that came from weeks of learning and growing together. 

Everyone came so far, and we came so far as a team. Through the support of these magnificent women, I became a better driver, leader and human. I witnessed each woman come into her own in her unique way: Gabriella, the “swiss army knife” Dorsen became a beast on the winches, was able to fix anything that tripped us up, and brought her unique magical light to us each every day! Carrie “fire eyes” Peters, stepped back into her natural place of power and strength as a sailor and tactician, and coached us all into being better, stronger and gnarlier! Debbi brought humor, wisdom and a calm energy to us all. She stepped into main trim and became a solid disciple of ole fire eyes on the intricacies of that role! Robin “bow rider” Mohilner graced us with her passion and pure light. She documented our adventures in imagery and words (see this video below and you’ll know what I mean). She stepped into whatever role was asked of her, and did it with grace and enthusiasm! Paula trimmed the genny and spinnaker with intuition and focus, and by the end, the finesse of a pro. Lara is no longer sailing with us, but she started our season out with a bang as our fearless tactician! Not only did we all become better sailors, but we became sisters. I count each of these beautiful women as my best friends and soul sisters. I have grown so much as a result of our friendship and connection, and to me that transcends everything else. Sailing is amazing, racing is fun, winning is wonderful, but the love and connection we all have is the ultimate blessing of this team.

Rumi says “be with those who help your being”….thank you my sisters for lifting me up and reminding me who I am and of that which I am capable! Thank you for being mirrors for everything from the tactical to the deeply personal. I am forever grateful to you all. I look so forward to our next adventures!!!! I LOVE YOU!

Singlehanded Transpac 2018.... and a few deep thoughts!

I just watched the sun set over San Francisco bay, leaving the Golden Gate bridge as a glowing silhouette. This view is always stirring, but tonight it touches me more deeply than usual. Today I watched my friends, some old and some new, all intrepid sailors, sail under that iconic bridge and out to sea. Today was the start of the 2018 Singlehanded Transpac. The last of the light is gone now, and all I can do is think of them all out there on their first night of many, alone at sea. 

 Every moment today brought back visceral memories for me. The most poignant of which was when Carliane pulled away from the dock. As she turned back and waved at all of her supporters, I could not hold back my tears. I know the magnitude of this moment is no different whether male or female, but I feel more kindred with her, because like me, she was the only woman in a sea of male skippers setting out to sea alone. Our feat is not different from that of the men, but the fact that women are rare in these races aligns me with her, as two chain links encircling one another do to make the chain strengthen and grow. It also motivates me further to lure a record number of women to be with me at the starting line in 2020.

I wrote that on June 23rd, from my brother’s home in Tiburon, CA. I never got around to posting it for some reason, but today, when a handful of racers have finished in Hanalei, and it hit me that Carliane is about 24 hours from the finish, I feel moved to do so.

When I saw her proximity to land today, more memories started flooding me, and my excitement for her (and all of them) became palpable. I can still feel it, the bittersweet realization that landfall is imminent. This will be her last sunset at sea, her last sunrise, her last starry night. I can feel all of that stirring my own soul. Also, the excitement to make landfall and hug those we hold dear, but the simultaneous mourning of the last taste of a freedom that I am sure I will never be able to put into words. I don’t profess to know how she is feeling, but I am so grateful for our connection and that her journey has sparked in me of so many important realizations about my own…mainly that I want to go out there again. Now I can feel why people are called to make this crossing over and over again. The pull is strong, and I can only assume (and hope) that there are more answers out there to the questions that tug at my soul. 

My thoughts and mojo are with all of you brave sailors as you trickle into Hanalei Bay this week. I wish I could be there with you under the tree, but instead, I am with you all in spirit!!!

I will close with a quote from one of my new friends (and favorite sailors), Bill Meanley, who is making the crossing again as we speak, and is also within a day of land:

 “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is out here today because that might jinx us.  So I won’t mention the warm, steady trades blowing 15-20, the seas smoothing as the cross swell diminishes, the beginning of puffy tradewind clouds, the vast expanse of the sea all around with no hint of the distant civilization over the horizon, just the soft moan of the wind, the sound of breaking waves and of clear blue seas rushing past Dolfin”s hull.  I can’t tell you any of this because then Mother Nature might take it away…..But I can tell you is it’s pretty nice out here.”

Carliane leaving the dock, shot between heaving sobs

Go Team Cassiopeia!

As much as I love sailing, racing, and buoy racing in particular, has always intimidated me, especially the starts! I think it is a combination of PTSD from so many intense starts and races with my super confident and competitive (read: proficiently aggressive) Dad at the helm, and a lack of confidence with tactics. Longer races are so different, and even in those, I am mainly flying by the seat of my pants (and as I told the race committee who wanted to place me in the more experienced class….being a big chicken at starts and following people over the line). That is slowly changing though, and being a skipper for the first time in the Sunset Series last night is already helping to build my confidence!

As I mentioned in my last post, the decision to race came to me in a moment, and within a week I had assembled a wonderful crew of women. Our experience and personalities run the gamut, and after being on the boat together yesterday, I can see that we are going to make a great team! There is already an air of supporting each other to grow not only as sailors, but in our personal lives. A personal example for me is in the seemingly never ending challenge of trusting myself and what I know (not down playing my skills and playing small). I can already tell that these women are going to gently yet strongly help me past this life-long challenge.

We headed to the start with a lot of time to spare, practicing our tacks and jibes, with our faithful Robin (now dubbed bow rider) on the bow calling traffic and such. Lara and I got into our groove with communication and timing, while the rest of the crew got up to speed with their jobs. Lara is so calm and confident, and helps me to stay centered. She was on top of the timing and guided me expertly towards our start! Carrie and Gabi developed a seamless operation in handling the genoa sheets with my undersized (and underpowered) winches. Carrie was on the main trim like nobody’s business. I teased her that I could see the fire in her eyes the minute we started sailing. She hasn’t sailed in many years, but let me assure you that nothing has been lost. The woman is amazing and her contributions to tactics and sail trim are invaluable…not to mention her humor and fierce competitive spirit!

We were in the last class to start (cruising B, non-spinnaker), so we had the benefit of being able to clearly tell who was in our class and where they were on the line. We pulled a risky maneuver and started on a port tack at the pin. If we had had more wind, it would have worked better, but as it was, we were a bit slow. As a result we weren't able to cross the boat on the line closest to us and therefore had to tack away because they had rights (they were on a starboard tack). This ended up being ok though, because we were able to pull away from them and push them up a bit to get moving on our way to the mark. We had a short course, and did fine heading up to our weather mark.

My only regret is that we didn’t motivate to use our whisker pole on our way downwind. We haven’t had time to practice with it, and my pole is a bit messed up. The last time I used it was in the middle of the Pacific, and on a different boat, and it has some battle scars.

We placed 4th out of 11 boats in our class, and I am so excited about that!! Not too shabby for our 1st race! No matter the outcome, we had a great 1st race, celebrated by a big enthusiastic toast at the end of it. I, for one was celebrating our amazing crew, and a job well done! I am so very grateful for this opportunity, and to be able to sail and grow alongside these strong and talented women! The thing that I am the happiest about, is that we truly are a team. We are there to support each other in very way and the energy between us is one of real respect and support. There was no yelling or criticism, which for me is a welcome bit of fresh air. I am very excited to see what this season brings! I imagine growth and friendship will be at the top of the list!

The ladies!!!!

photos by bow rider (aka: Robin Mohilner)

A New Adventure for Cassiopeia and Me!

The wind is coming up early and strong for a Marina Del Rey morning. It is gorgeous and clear from where I sit in my new apartment overlooking the marina, but the wind is somehow unsettling. The cacophony of clanking halyards and howling wind is making me feel antsy.  It always amazes me how the wind can be so disconcerting to me when I am on land, and today is no exception. It feels eerie and dramatic, especially for 7 in the morning. Perhaps if I turn my thoughts to the sea and all of the adventures she promises, I will feel less ill at ease. Truth be told, I cannot wait to get back out there. Soon, I hope!

Cassiopeia and I are working towards that goal now, as we slowly ramp up our game. I have been sailing more lately, and as I slowly emerge out of the haze of the past months, I can see in my mind’s eye my next sailing goals and dreams materializing. My sailing adventures fell to the back burner for a while as I navigated some personal challenges. Slowly though, I feel the fire being stoked, and I can feel the horizon calling me again.

The most recent development is that I have decided to race I the Sunset Series here in Marina Del Rey. These races are our local Wednesday night buoy races put on by California Yacht Club, that go from now until September. I have crewed a lot in this series and other races like this in my life, but have never skippered my own boat in them. As I am sure I have mentioned here before, race starts intimidate me, and being in charge of a crew of people has always felt daunting to me. So, I decided to do it anyhow! Just as with all other decisions in my life, it just came to me one day that I should do this, and with an all-woman crew. So, that is what I am doing. Thankfully I have a lot of wonderful ladies in my life who love to sail. I have invited a crew of experienced racers and enthusiastic newbies alike, and I fall somewhere in the middle.  My goal in doing so is to create and foster an environment of mutual support and learning, so we can all learn and grow from wherever we fall on the spectrum.

A new and wonderful friend of mine, who is a very experienced racer has agreed to be my coach and tactician. I am so grateful, because the thought of going in cold and without support would stop me in my tracks. I couldn’t be more excited (or intimidated) about this new adventure. I have been taking a clinic on race starts the past 2 weekends. Last weekend I was coached by my talented and experienced boyfriend on his boat, and this weekend I will be sailing with my friend Lara for the first time to get our strategy and communication plan together for the season.

Last night I attended the seminar for the race series. I went alone, as none of my crew could make it. I will admit that though I saw some familiar faces there, I felt really intimidated. It reminded me for a second of how I felt when I walked into the skippers meeting before the Singlehanded Transpac. Everything sounded at once familiar and completely foreign and daunting. I know myself well enough to know that I need a hands on experience of all of this in order for it to start to make total sense. I have faith that it will, and have faith in myself that I will learn exactly what I need to exactly when I am meant to.

I am so grateful to my friends for being willing to embark upon this new journey with me. I feel so supported and so excited to have a team of strong women by my side as I dive into this new adventure! I know that we will all emerge better and stronger for it!

A little heartbreak........and a lot of excitement!

I have been absent from this blog, and even my precious boat for some time now. Life events and responsibilities have been pulling me away. There is not a moment that goes by, however, that I don’t miss the open sea or the blessing of writing about my adventures out there, and my heart is always pulled towards the horizon of both things.

Making the decision to abort my plans to race in the Singlehanded Transpac again in 2018, was one that wrenched my heart in a huge way. I felt so called to do it, and to recruit more women to do the same, as well as to document all of our experiences as a vehicle to inspire more women to embark upon amazing adventures such as this. My personal prayer and goal was to have a record number of women race in 2018 (a meager 4 would have done the trick) to make a start at bringing more parity to the race roster and the finish line in Hanalei.

I just found out tonight that there are now three women registered for the race this year. I knew about my friend Carliane (through whom I have been living vicariously in all of her race preparations), but learning of two other women was a happy surprise to me. If I am honest though, my heart broke a little when I heard, because I want to be there so badly. Also, if I (or any other woman) were registered, we would have our record year.

As I have written about a lot in this and my art blog, this has been a year of letting go for me. It has been a year of redefining so many things. Part of letting go has been about releasing what is not meant for me, to make space for what I need. The only thing I can do now as I nurse my aching heart, is to trust that my original decision is the right one, and that this is not my time. I am called to once again let go and allow what is meant to be to unfold gracefully.

I bow down to and celebrate each of the women and men who have registered in this year’s race, for that act alone is brave and powerful. I am grateful that the number of women on the roster of this historic race is increasing, and I hope to be able to interview each one before they cross the start line in June. No matter what, I am with you each in spirit, and will do my best to be there to cheer you all on at the start, and hopefully hug you in Hanalei at the finish of one of the most amazing things you will ever do!

Some thoughts on Bravery and a Shout out to Nathalie Criou!

I have been thinking a lot about bravery lately, and what that means to me as a woman and as a sailor, and how those two relate. Something popped into my Facebook feed today by Brene' Brown that stopped me in my tracks. She was talking about her daughter's graduation from high school and all of the emotions that emerged in her as a result of that milestone. Its a great post, and you can read it here. In that post she said that their family motto is that it is "okay to be brave and afraid at the same time". I love that, and as I read it I realized that I have experienced the power of this very paradox in my own life. I have found that by allowing both, deep growth and great accomplishments are possible (and even inevitable)!

I concurrently read a blog post by my new friend and one of my sailing inspirations, Nathalie Criou. Nathalie is a veteran of the Singlehanded Transpac (2014) and is currently in France getting ready to race in the Solitaire Urgo le Figaro , an historic French singlehanded race, which starts on May 26! In her post, she speaks of her "healthy dose of fear" as she comes face to face with some of the top sailors in the country. She is a very accomplished sailor herself, and I am sure she will give them a run for their money, but what means the most to me as someone that looks up to her, is that she is acknowledging her humanness in so many ways. She also has the best attitude about it and says that learning a lot and having fun will happen no matter what, which I love and wholeheartedly agree with!

After reading her post today, and knowing that she is over there on her own preparing to sail in a very prestigious and challenging race, I had to stop for a moment and acknowledge her bravery! She is brave to believe in herself enough to do it, and she is brave to do it, and she is brave to admit her fears. The latter, to me, is the biggest piece of her bravery! 

Please join me in cheering her on, and stay tuned for an interview with her here on my blog when she returns from France!! My hat is off to you Nat!!!!!

MEET KASS SCHMITT!! Solo Offshore Sailor Extraordinaire!

Friends,

Meet Kass Schmitt! She is about to take off (IN 2 WEEKS!) on the OSTAR (The Original Transatlantic Singlehanded Race) with the goal of becoming the first woman to win! I have not met Kass in person yet, but we have corresponded and connected on social media. She has graciously agreed to be a part of my documentary project about women solo offshore sailors, and I cannot wait to meet her in person for our interview! Our correspondence alone has shown me what a true badass she is! Kass is the perfect blend of graciousness, kindness and pure grit! I have no doubt that her race will be a success. She is still looking for support for her campaign, and I want to share the link here to her Indiegogo page so that perhaps some of you can reach out and make a donation! Every little bit will help her achieve her goal! At the very least, please follow here progress on Facebook, and/or her wonderful blog!

Here’s to you Kass!!!!!!

Vulnerability

As I prepare for my next big adventure, I have been thinking a lot about bravery, and what that means to me in my life. It’s easy to conceptualize bravery when admiring another from afar, but a little more complicated when applying it to my own life’s journey. And within that journey, it’s simpler to apply it to a tangible feat, like sailing alone across the Pacific, but what I am actually being reminded of right now is that real bravery starts with something much deeper. I think if I had to come up with one word that equals bravery for me, it would be vulnerability. Brene’ Brown, one of my heroes and favorite teachers in life studies vulnerability, and through her research, sheds light on its significance to our emotional well-being. If you are not familiar with her work, her TED talk on vulnerability is a great place to start. She says that “vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.” I would have to agree.

The reason I am thinking so much about bravery lately is not so much because I am preparing to head out alone across the Pacific again, but more so because in conjunction with (and really, as a result of) that decision, I am putting myself out into the world in new ways. As with each time I have ventured to do this in my life, I am feeling extremely exposed and nervous. Not only am I being asked to speak at various events about my experience in the 2016 SHTP, but I am in the beginning phases of creating a documentary film about the history of the women skippers of the same race (to ask the question: “why aren’t there more women participating in solo offshore sailing in general?’). My documentary project is gaining so much momentum already that there is no way except forward. It is truly taking on a life of its own, and I am called to be all in. Between heeding this call and agreeing to speak in public, I am being challenged to embody my own experiences and put myself in the public eye in new ways. In short, I am being asked to be brave. I will be honest and say that this feat feels harder to me than when I shoved off the dock into the greatest unknown of my life nine months ago.

The act of writing honestly about my personal experiences, public speaking or interviewing my heroes itself isn’t scary. What feels intimidating is that to do so, I am stepping out of the relative safety of my circle of friends and private life into a much more exposed arena. Through blogging and speaking, I am inviting people that I don’t know into my personal successes and failures. I am also reaching out across oceans and airwaves to my sailing heroines and declaring my intentions, sharing my humble (compared to theirs) experience and asking to interview them about theirs. I am presenting my talk and SHTP video to groups of accomplished sailors who have many thousands more ocean miles under their belts than I do. In doing all of this, I am opening my experiences up to judgement and criticism as well as celebration and support.

All of these things make me quake in my boots, but as I said in my last post, I am heeding a call and trusting that I am at the right track. As scared and vulnerable as I feel every day, I continue to show up in front of my fears, and I continue to put one foot in front of the other. Brene’ Brown reminds me that “courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen” and “the willingness to show up changes us….and makes us a little braver each time.” And so this cycle of bravery lifts me up and reminds me that as uncomfortable as it can feel, there is also freedom in being seen. There is power in sharing myself wholly with people. There is power in sharing all of the parts, not just the shiny ones. Lately it has been hard, but the more I stick to it, the more I am reminded of the nugget of truth found in Brene’ Brown’s research, that “vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.”  In my life, when I have had the courage to show up and be vulnerable, transformation and expansion always occurs.  So, trusting that fact, I am stepping into the arena and showing up. I am not sure exactly for what yet, but the quaking in my boots tells me it’s going to be well worth it!

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” -Theodore Roosevelt
 

Following The Thread Into Exciting Waters!

  “Such is the passage of time
    Too fast to fold
    And suddenly swallowed by signs
    Low and behold
   Gonna rise up
   Find my direction magnetically
   Gonna rise up
   Throw down my ace in the hole”

  -Eddie Vedder

The familiar itch and call of the horizon is pulling at me fiercely right now. As I try to navigate the waters of my daily life, the sea is calling to me loudly and reminding me of the answers that lie in her vastness. When things become at all jumbled or overloaded in my mind and heart as they are now, that pull feels stronger than ever.

As I wrote that, the image of a huge sieve popped into my mind….so much pouring through, and then the relief of finding the nuggets of truth safely guarded in its web as all that is extraneous falls away. This is exactly why I love to sail alone….being out in the sacred cathedral of the ocean is like an energetic sieve that hands me my truth if I just allow everything to flow through. For me it’s allowing the flow that is challenging sometimes though. The grandest illusion of my life has been thinking that I can control what is channeled through my “sieve”. All I can do is be vigilant in mining the nuggets and tend to the sieve itself, which of course consists of my mind, soul and heart.

Right now the greatest morsel of truth I am finding over and over again is that I need be true to my own compass and follow the call that is bringing forth a whole new direction in my life. The direction feels foreign, but familiar as well because it is woven together with all of the lessons and experiences on my path so far. Every skill and every bit of knowledge of my life has prepared me for this new journey, no matter how unrelated they may seem. It’s the thread again. If I trust and flow with that thread, I am reminded that all is revealed as it is meant to be and when it is meant to be. Sometimes this flow is a gentle brook but lately it has felt like a rushing river that is taking on a life of its own. It is a wild ride but no matter how intense the river, there is a vein of truth in it that shines through and keeps me hanging on. So I am not fighting it and am paying attention at every turn, even to things that might seem innocuous and meaningless. They are all clues and each one is urging me to ask some questions.

For example, I was sailing out of Marina Del Rey the other day aboard my lovely Cassiopeia. I was alone. I was just off the Venice pier, and I was furling out my genoa, and setting my course for a practice sail on the bay. I was doing what I, and many other people do all the time. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a zodiac flanking me. They were obviously following me, and eventually it became clear that they were trying to tell me something. My immediate thought was that they were coming to tell me I was getting too close to a race course that was nearby. When they got close enough for me to hear them however, the man driving the rib was yelling to me that he thought it was “amazing” that I was single handing my boat. My first reaction was one of gratitude and appreciation for someone reaching out to me like that, but when he sped away, I felt awkward. I was left once again with the burning question: WHY? Why is it considered so “amazing” that I am single handing my boat, when no one would probably single out a man out there doing the same? I ask this question not out of defensiveness, but out of genuine curiosity. Getting this kind of reaction most of my life, and especially now, has spurred me to dig deeper into the questions, and to create a project that will hopefully give us some answers. I don’t think it is amazing that a woman can single hand her vessel across bays and oceans because she is a woman, I think it is amazing because she is a brave human being following her call and doing what brings her joy. What is curious to me is that there are not more women who want to push themselves in this way (in comparison to men in the same arena). The questions keep flooding my mind, and my response is to follow the thread and create a documentary that will hopefully scratch the surface of answers.

I will start in the place where I am familiar: sailing. I will start with a documentary on the history of women in the Singlehanded Transpac, jumping off with the real time experience of all of us who race in 2018, and dive back into history from there. I have already contacted numerous past racers as well as some of my solo offshore sailing heroines (Isabelle Autissier, Donna Lange, Kass Schmitt, Susie Goodall and Lisa Blair to name a few) to be a part of this project. I have been met with nothing but excitement and cooperation, which to me is the greatest confirmation that I am on the right track. I hope to meet many of these accomplished women in the next couple of years to shed light on my questions. I am asking these questions from a place of deep curiosity, but also out of a desire to inspire balance in these arenas and hopefully to inspire more women to get out on the water and seek adventure.

I feel my initial questions are just the tip of a very deep iceberg, and I am so excited for what will revealed as my documentary project takes on a life of its own. I am grateful to be a channel for this project, and grateful to all of the women who have already agreed to be a part of it all!

Haunani, The Brave Catalina 34 That Could

As much as I am comfortable with my own feelings and vulnerability, my knee jerk reaction when I am hurting is to play it tough and put on a brave face, to the point of ridiculously minimizing my own experience. I share just enough to demonstrate appropriate sadness, and stuff the rest out of deep fear of being deemed “too much”. The more deeply I feel something, the more I do this…..usually until I cannot hold it all in anymore and the only thing left for me to do is crumple into a heap and feel it all.

Yesterday I was in a heap. I received an email from a lovely person who said “ I am sorry to hear about the loss of Haunani, the brave C34 that could”…..well that did it, and I am so grateful, because I needed to stop and honor how I was truly feeling. I felt the reality of my loss come crashing down when I read those words. From the heap that was me (a puddle of tears, smudged mascara and snot really), the floodgates opened in earnest, and everything poured out. It all shook through me. I felt everything I had been pushing aside for the last 3 months and not fully allowing myself to embody: The emotional and financial stress of my dear dog being sick, my deep sadness over the loss of a very significant love in my life, and of course the grief of losing my beloved Haunani. Then there was the anger…the anger that someone did something so stupid and careless which in turn created a dark cloud over the most amazing experience of my life, is vibrating through my being as I write this.  As I allow all of these feelings, I can hear the familiar voice in my head trying to minimize it or talk myself out of the validity of my experience. Well, I am not going to do that anymore, because this is all very real for me, and would I advise something so callous to a beloved friend? No. Never.

I have never seen a dead human body, but I imagine when one does, that you can tell that the soul is no longer in residence. I have certainly seen that in animals that have passed. The other day, when I went to see my Haunani on the hard, I had that sensation. I know that this sounds dramatic, and that many people will not understand, but I felt like her soul was no longer there. Now, I KNOW she is just a boat, and supposedly an inanimate object…..but let me tell you, that girl had soul. My friends tell me that it is because of me that she had soul, but I am more inclined to believe that it was a mutual creation.

These few weeks since her sad return have been very challenging for me. I have had to be very “official” in my dealings with the shipping company as well as with the boat yard and other professionals on the scene. I have had to have conversations with people about her state that have been so matter of fact that I felt like I was betraying her very essence...not to mention my own heart. And all the while, I have been fighting off waves of soul shaking grief that can bring me to my knees. When I think of how I felt as Haunani intrepidly carried me across the wild Pacific, it is hard to believe that she will never sail again. My heart is truly broken.

As I navigate the challenging waters of her deconstruction, I am choosing to focus on her greatness, and the grace and strength with which she carried me and all that I am through so much. She came into my life three years ago, and not only provided deep solace for me as I healed a broken heart, but she turned me into an offshore sailor. She consistently reminded me of who I really am. The only way I can make this loss make any sense is to honor the meaning that our relationship brought to my life. To honor that there is a time and a season for all loves, and perhaps ours was only meant to last for three years. Maybe she sacrificed herself to deliver me. Whatever the deep meaning behind our bond, I will be forever grateful for Haunani, the brave Catalina 34 that could. 

all photos by Chris Woods

Re-entry And a Shout Out To My Fellow Racers

I have been home for almost 2 weeks. To be honest, without my boat here, or a huge adventure to plan, I am feeling a bit disoriented. My life revolved around Haunani and the marina for 10 months, and all else took a back seat. So now with my girl gone for another 3 weeks, I am taking the opportunity to get my feet beneath me and embrace the other facets of my life that have been neglected and sorely in need of tending. It’s a bit of a disaster around here to be honest, but I am plugging away and untangling it all bit by bit. There are piles of boat stuff that were dumped willy nilly in my art studio (to streamline Haunani for my trip)…jerry cans, anchor chain, anchors, food, a dinghy, dishes, bedding, lines, gear….you name it. I basically walk by those piles with a smile and a nod and head back into denial…I am not ready for that yet. There was a pile of mail the size of Everest that I have finally tackled which feels great, but has not inspired the same motivation for the 600+ emails in my inbox (most of which are annoying spam). There is an office to move (moving back into my studio office), a business to re-boot, phone calls to make, duffels to unpack (yep, they are still sitting there), catching up with friends and family to enjoy, dogs to walk among many other things both pleasant and not.

As I wander around and slowly tackle my re-entry and all of my responsibilities, I think often about the other sailors in the race. How are they all doing with re-entry? How are they feeling about what they just accomplished now that it is 2 weeks in our wake? It seems so strange to share such a transformational experience with 23 other humans and then only have a few days to really get to know them (although I thankfully got to spend quality time with some of them). In those few days, everyone (well I can only really speak for myself but am assuming their experience was similar) was so tired, catching up with family, sleeping and trying to process the magnitude of what we just accomplished., that “tree time”(sunset gatherings every evening on the beach in Hanalei) and the banquet were the only times we really got to be with each other. I cannot tell you how much I loved those times.

I felt a mix of awe and relief when in their presence. I was in awe of all of these brave souls that put themselves out there in a way that few people even dream of. I was in awe of their collective experience and courage. I was in awe of the various ways they coped with the stresses of their respective journeys. I truly felt as though I was in the presence of greatness. What I was most in awe of was the collective humility of this group of strong men.  Being with them was so beautiful, because each was so truly humble and kind. I felt that there was a lovely sweetness and gentleness that pulsed through this group of guys, and I will be forever imprinted by that energy! The relief I felt came in the moment I let down and realized I was actually a PART of this group. I am not sure if it was nerves, being the only woman, or my own annoying habit of thinking everyone else is always “better” at things than I am, but either way, at the skipper’s meeting in SF, I felt a bit like an outsider. When I first walked up to “tree time” and into their midst, I sadly carried that nervous feeling with me. It was swiftly blown to smithereens though, as all of those kind, lovely people and their families embraced me and welcomed me into my place in their midst. Between the other racers, their families and the race committee, I felt I was surrounded by some of the coolest and most real people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. The camaraderie was wonderful, but what struck me the most was the sense that all of a sudden we were a tribe, and that we would do anything to help and support each other. I certainly felt supported. For example, I had a team of new friends who helped me re-anchor my boat (no small feat by the way) and was so happy to do the same for them. There was always someone (or many people) who was more than willing to help me do whatever needed to be done from dinghy rides to fixing stuff. I am especially grateful to Bill Meanley, John Woodworth, Barry Bristol and Mike Jefferson for taking this greenhorn under their respective wings at various times to offer advice, support and buckets of kindness. Then there are my PSSA buddies Yves Vergnolle and Joe Barry, who have a very special place in my heart. When I saw them each for the first time after our journey (and strangled them with giant hugs), I felt like our friendships deepened in that moment. Seeing them was like coming home from being homesick at summer camp and seeing your family for the first time. I felt like I was coming into to a familiar safe anchorage just by seeing their faces. For the entire week in Kauai, I felt so buoyed by their presence and am so grateful for their kindness and friendship. It makes me emotional just writing about it. Thank you guys…..I am truly so grateful for you both (and JOE!!…good luck on your return journey, my hat is off to you)! I also want to shout out to Kristen, Susan, Carliane and Brian, who all went above and beyond for all of us. I can still feel Kristen’s seemingly bottomless joyful energy as she zipped around. Her enthusiasm, energy, smile and willingness to help without hardly a break blew my mind. Susan with her calm and grounding presence always made me feel like everything was under control! And Carliane......though we had only just met, that hug you gave me when I first saw you made my day....not to mention our kick ass framed photos! And then there is Brian….always there with his steadfast calm energy and mad skills. I don’t think he slept at all, and was always present for anyone who needed anything large or small. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart!

I miss everyone, and hope that our paths will cross again! My door is always open to any of you (and your families). My boat is always available for a sail for anyone who happens to be visiting Marina Del Rey! I mean it!!! Please don’t be a stranger guys!

Coming Home To Myself

As the weeks fly by since my return from sea, the details of my voyage are sadly starting to blend together. It’s a bit disconcerting how fast the memories are fading into a snapshot. Granted, it is a larger than life, and oh-so vivid snapshot that is forever emblazoned on my brain, but from where I sit now in my comfy backyard sipping on a glass of red, it is easy to start romanticizing and encapsulating the whole experience. My voyage is surely deserving of some romanticization, but it is more so deserving of being memorialized with radical honesty. Even though my sail across the Pacific transcends most things in my life, I feel the same about it as I do all of my life’s experiences: it would be nothing without all of its peaks and valleys. In my opinion, the valleys of any experience seem to produce the most gems and it is in those challenging and dark moments that I find my deepest transformation. Life is alchemy if I allow it to be so. This trip was certainly no exception and I am finding out more each day just to what extent I have been and continue to be transformed.

I cannot tell you how many people told me before I left things like “you will be different when you get back”, and “this trip is going to change you”. Because I agreed, (I mean, how could I not return a changed woman after over 2 weeks alone at sea?), I kept searching for the sure to be monumental change in myself as the days ticked away out there. I have continued searching for it after landfall…partially in order to be able to answer all of the eager questions to that effect. Was I changed? Am I somehow more evolved or confident as a result of this epic trip? Well, although I certainly feel something major has shifted, and continues to shift in me, to be honest I don’t feel that different. What I do feel, after much soul searching however, is a deeper sense of who I already knew myself to be. Maybe that IS what they meant by different, either way, it certainly is a powerful revelation for me.

As I have mentioned many times, my whole trip except for a few days was very rough. I think there was a part of me that was minimizing or doubting that fact based on my lack of experience with such things. I would hear my Dad’s and brother’s tales of their crossings…. relaxing book reading sessions on the foredeck, or peaceful sunset happy hours in the cockpit… echoing in my brain as I clung on to various handholds on my heaving vessel under stormy skies. No one said anything about being tossed about violently while barreling along in 25-30 knot winds, where trying to imbibe a sip of water let alone wine in the cockpit would be a challenge. Still, I rolled with it thinking that maybe I had heard wrong….or more accurately, maybe this really wasn’t so rough after all. Thankfully I didn’t have to rely on my videos to validate anything, because they make my trip look like a walk in the park (I still don’t get why). Upon my arrival to Hanalei, the magnitude of the atypical conditions was promptly corroborated by two 5-time veterans of this race. One said, “you sure picked the worst year ever to do this race”, and they each said to me separately that it was the roughest trip they have ever had. Bittersweet, but the good news to me was the confirmation that I was not losing my marbles or exaggerating the intensity of what I just went through in my mind….PHEW! When I look back on it, I am not sure how I ever questioned myself, because there really was no respite from Haunani’s violent movement for most of my trip. We rarely saw wind under 20 knots, and it was more like 27-35 most of the time.

When I decided to join this race, I was acutely aware of the fact that I was a greenhorn. I had no offshore experience, not even on a crewed trip. At that point, my longest and roughest trip had been a sail with my dad from Maui to Hawaii Island in 1985. In fact until I arrived in the SF bay, I had only sailed in wind over 20 knots a handful of times, most of which were in the last year. To be honest, I was probably more tuned into what I lacked in experience than I should have been, to the point of being really tough on myself and feeling like I had to justify my choice to pursue this goal to the more experienced sailors in my life. At the same time, however, I also had a deep sense of the fact that I would be able to handle it. I had my fears of course, but as I have said before, I knew that “it was in me”. This deep knowing is what I believe has been deeply strengthened and elevated as a result of my journey, because what I found out out there in the “watery disk”, is that exactly what I needed is indeed in me…and then some.

What I am about to share is hard for me to talk about, because of my aversion to sounding cocky, aka: playing big, but I think it is important. I think that so many of us, especially women, downplay our innate strengths as a result of societal conditioning and consequential bad habits. I am certainly guilty of this. I can say now that the (at first unknown) underlying reason for setting out on this journey was to unravel this habit. I have been called out many times for playing small, as well as for being critical of myself and downplaying my strengths. One of the last things one of my mentors said to me before I left was “ your capabilities are far beyond what you think they are Margie”. I heard various versions of the same thing from people close to me as I prepared to leave. I didn’t fully take it in because it was more comfortable to be invested in some deep-rooted negative belief (that could oddly co-exist with my innate confidence). So here is the nugget that I have come away with and I believe I finally truly understand. Tears actually come to my eyes as I write this. My investment in playing small and the fact that it can co-exist with my innate confidence is all because of a deep fear of how people might react if I rise into the biggest version of myself. I have craved the ability to step into my power and confidence and have strived dilligently for it over the years, all the while undermining it with aforementioned stupid habit.  Well, maybe it’s not totally stupid because I am sure it served to protect me on some level as a kid or adolescent, but as I approach the mid century mark, I see it for what it is: complete and utter bullshit! It serves no one, least of all me. My time at sea has pulled this into sharp focus and has made me realize something huge: The reason I like to sail alone is that I do not have to play small. I knew I could not accomplish this feat of sailing to Hawaii by doing so, even though I clung fiercely to it until the moment I pulled away from the dock. And when I am around others, especially those I perceive to know more than me or have more experience than me, I all too easily step away from my own power and into that small place. When I am alone, however, I do no such thing. My wish for myself is to be able to integrate these two things and live my daily life the way I lived at sea, where I felt safe and entitled to be the full version of myself. No apologies, no explanations, no rationalizations, no tiptoeing.....just full-on unadulterated me.

What I saw clearly out there was a strong and capable woman, who despite some moaning and groaning didn’t get rattled by much. People keep asking me if I was scared out there, and my honest answer is no. I wasn’t, and it wasn’t because there did not exist scary things, it was because I knew in my guts that I had it in me to handle what came my way. There are people who have questioned my abilities and expertise, but at the end of the day, I knew, and then just to be sure, proved it to myself, that I could take care of business out there. Of course I needed support and encouragement, but it is like life….just because I allow myself to be vulnerable and ask for help or support, does not mean I am weak or incapable. In fact I think asking for help is one of the bravest things we can do. Admitting our human-ness and embracing vulnerability is a huge strength. My tendency to do so is often mistaken for weakness, but as I sailed alone out there in the great blue, I felt no weakness….only wholeness.

I realize that I need to now embody that wholeness in my daily life. I think that the reason people might mistake my vulnerability for weakness at times is because I allow it, and even play into it. My commitment to myself from now on is to STOP IT (seriously, click that link and watch the video...its hilarious!). I hope anyone else who struggles with this will join me. We are doing a disservice to the world by not living from and sharing the full version of who we are. I believe that as a result of this voyage, this is finally starting to shift in me. If by sharing my struggles and successes with this huge change, I can offer even a morsel of inspiration for even one other person to step into the glory of themselves, I will be so happy. We can all keep reminding each other!!  Deal?

**If you want to read more about the power of vulnerability, please do yourself a favor and check out any and all work by one of my heroes, Brene’ Brown. Here are a few links:

Her TED talk on the topic that went viral

She has written many books on the topic, but my favorite is Daring Greatly

thank you crescent moon

I have been lying awake since 330am full of nerves. I finally got out of my bunk at 445 and put on some coffee. when I glanced out of the companionway I saw the beautiful moon hanging in the sky. a crescent new moon reminding me in her steadfast way of the opportunity for growth, new beginnings and mainly that all is well. while I was lying here in my bunk half awake, I was drawing on the strength that everyone's cards, texts, emails and calls have given. I have been distracted and not always able to respond, but each expression of love and support has helped to keep me grounded and focused on my goal.

despite all the love and support around me, I have had to pull into myself and feel what is real for me and me only.  as my departure has drawn near I have been faced with some loved ones' fears, worries and well meaning warnings. I definitely understand where they are coming from and feel the love behind them but now is not the time to listen to anything but my own counsel. I do not mean to be rude or dismissive in not taking on their concerns but i have had to draw a firm line. this line I believe, is the beginning of my actual journey. a journey to myself and my truth. One of my go to habits in life has been to allow others opinions to sway me or out of fear of upsetting another not being true to my own inner compass. I can feel that those days are over and this journey has been leading me to the point where I can truly see that and integrate it into my own growth. this feels huge this morning as I sit in the dark of my beloved Haunani with the wink of the crescent moon beckoning me to follow her to deeper waters and a deeper knowing of myself.

I will be sailing away tomorrow holding the intention of sailing one mile at a time the best way I know how. I have what I need inside me to face anything that comes my way from the physical to he emotional and I welcome all of the  transformation I know that will bring. I am truly humbled by his experience so far and I know it is only the beginning.  

this was written on my phone at 5 am. pleas forgive any typos or weird formatting :-)) 

Lovely Friends

I am finally settling into a groove up here in the Bay Area. I am so blessed to have a safe haven at my brother and sister in law’s beautiful home in Tiburon while Haunani has her own little spot nearby. She is snuggled away at Paradise Cay Yacht Harbor, whose stewards have been beyond kind and generous to this wayward traveler! It is seriously a little slice of heaven and I am so lucky to be there! I am loving getting to know the bay and all of its nuances. Sailing here is definitely awesome and inspiring! Yesterday was my 1st solo sail up here, and it was definitely one for my personal record books. Vigilance and being on point were called for to a degree that I have never experienced. It was a great test of my skills and focus. The thing that struck me the most was the changeability and extremes. All of the land formations and the patterns they create are certainly interesting! I loved every moment, and am so grateful for this time to acclimate and practice before the big day.

I want to say a special thank you to my sweet and fierce soul sisters, Silvia and Gabi, who schlepped all the way up here last weekend from Venice in my truck to transport stuff and help me in my preparations. Their generosity and enthusiasm for my cause knows no bounds, and as much as I already knew this, this trip really took it to a new level. There was organizing, cleaning, anchor chain moving (no small feat in an old rickety wheel barrow), cooking, errand running, MUCH laughter, sailing…you name it. Logistics aside, the thing that I needed the most was their presence. Just having them here gave me such solace, and I am sure it was no mistake that they happened to be here when I had my hardest day to date in this whole adventure. My autopilot started acting up again, and as a result, I was stricken with severe anxiety, to the point that my stomach was in knots and I would burst into tears at the drop of a hat. I could barely focus on conversations because I was so consumed with worry (this is not like me either). That of course opened a can of worms that revealed all of the hidden anxieties about what I am about to take on. Along with my baby brother (who is a total rock), they helped me through a really tough couple of days with tenderness, kindness and some tough love to boot. I am so grateful!

Saying goodbye to my friends was really hard, but by providing me such a safe place to process all of my fears and let down a little (not to mention have some fun), they left me feeling ready to take it all on again! I will definitely be taking them with me on my journey!

Catalina To Port :: A PSSA Race

I just returned last night from one of the most fun and inspiring sailing experiences I have ever had. I want to write about it while it is fresh in my head (even though I still haven’t begun to chronicle the amazing experience of my 400 mile qualifier the week before).

Haunani and I were lucky enough to have the company of Whitall Stokes on our last adventure. Whitall offered to join me to doublehand the PSSA Catalina to Port race when he heard me mention one day that I had zero experience flying a spinnaker (least of all by myself). Since much of this race is downwind, it was the perfect opportunity to learn from someone who is a seasoned singlehanded offshore sailor, not to mention to spend the weekend with a great person. Whitall and I started to get to know each other a couple of months ago when I interviewed him for this blog. You can read the post here. Since then we have become fast friends and he has definitely become a trusted mentor. I really admire Whitall, not only because he is a very accomplished sailor, but because he is a very kind and genuine person.

We set out early Saturday morning for the long and rolly journey of motoring out to the PV 10 buoy off of Palos Verdes. Since Whitall is the PRO of our club, our boat was the rabbit boat, so we were there waiting for the other three vessels when they arrived. As everyone gathered, the wind started to come up, and we were all poised for a great start to what turned out to be a very fun race.

The wind filled in nicely, and we had a lively sail across the channel towards the west end of Catalina Island. We had a bit of a rough start due to a huge piece of kelp that got caught on our prop (the famous, crappy, soon to be replaced fixed prop that earns me endless amounts of sh*t from my compadres). It took both of us taking turns crawling down the swim ladder hanging of the stern wielding a totally MacGyver-knife-on-the-end-of-a-boat-hook-situation trying to cut the stuff off to even make a dent. It was a pretty pathetic sight that ended with both of us being more wet than dry...not to mention a stubborn piece of kelp remaining.

We carried on despite this little hold up, and made good time to the west end. I was a little queasy on this leg, but really enjoyed it nonetheless. The day was picturesque to say the least. We rounded the west end in a stiff breeze, and headed down the backside. Once we were about a third of the way down, we decided to set my spinnaker. Whitall patiently coached me and demonstrated the procedure with the ease of an expert. We had a great run down the island, culminating with a sudden increase in wind just before we came to the finish. We were all of a sudden gettting gusts of up to 25 knots, and Haunani was broaching like crazy. I tried to suck the spinnaker into its sock to start the dousing process but the wind was way to strong. I was also stupidly not wearing gloves and got a gnarly rope burn on my hand trying. As much as this was intense and challenging, Haunani handled it all with grace, and we were finally able to get around the end of the island without incident to calmer wind and made our way to the finish line. We finished as the sun was setting, and once we doused the spinnaker, we celebrated by floating slowly towards Avalon in the waning light, toasting our day with a nice glass (or 3) of red. I loved that not only did Whitall want to take in the peace of the sunset without rushing back, but that the first thing he said at that time was “so, what were our learning experiences in all of that?” We spent about half an hour rehashing all that happened and what we could have done better. I wish I had had a notebook for all that I learned on that sail. Just about at the time we were about to turn on the engine, one of our PSSA buddies motored by after his finish. It was fun to be able to chat with him on the radio and toast him from afar! We finished our day by picking up a mooring in Avalon and having a lovely dinner where we were both almost falling asleep in our food. I was happy to be hanging with someone who is also accustomed to a 9pm bed time! :-)

My favorite thing about what I learned this weekend was the way in which it was delivered. First of all, Whitall is calm and collected at all times, and despite his sheer badassness, ego never enters into any equation with him on the boat. His lessons are conveyed mostly in the form of questions and invitations to self reflect. There were no harsh edges to any of it (except maybe endless well deserved sh*t about how much stuff is on my boat :-) ) but that is not to say he didn’t hold me accountable or that there was not strength and confidence behind every word. I always say that there is a reason I sail alone….mainly because, as social as I am, spending that kind of time in a small space and in intense situations with most people is challenging…unless they are the right people and it just works. I had a hunch we would get along and that I would enjoy having him on my boat, and I was right. What a true gentleman and wonderful guest! I am so grateful for our friendship and for the fact that I got to soak in as much as I did this weekend. I feel like my mind is bursting with all that I learned..

Hats Off To My Badass Compadres:: Guadalupe Island Race 2016

Since Friday, I have been fixated on the journey that 6 of my fellow PSSA sailors are currently undertaking. I have been tracking their progress on our PSSA tracker page with so much excitement. Seven men on five boats set out on Friday on the well known PSSA race around Guadalupe Island (in the waters off of Mexico). It is a 582nm trek all together, with the last half being a gnarly beat up to the east end of Catalina Island. My heart goes out to one boat that had to turn around early on due to autopilot issues, and my enthusiasm and energy is with all of the rest of the sailors who are heading north towards the finish as I write this.

It was great to be able to see them all start the race on Friday. Even though I did not race this year, it felt good to be there on my boat supporting them as they embarked on such an epic adventure. I even got sail next to one friend for awhile at the beginning of his race as I made my way to Catalina Island. They have rarely left my mind since I watched them disappear over the horizon that afternoon.  I am so in awe of them all and cannot wait to hear the stories of their adventures. I find myself being infused with inspiration and motivation as I watch them make their way along the course. I have no idea how I got so lucky to be surrounded by such brave and experienced sailors but I have, and I am so grateful to know them all. Here's to you all!!! I am with you in spirit and cheering you each on like nobody's business!!!