Palos Verdes to Cat Harbor, Catalina Island, September 2025

Last weekend it felt like something important was restored and reignited.

After more than five decades, the Ladies Got Guts Race returned—originally created by Del Rey Yacht Club in the 1960s and brought back this year with the support of DRYC and Brendan Huffman, who poured so much heart and energy into making it happen. The race hadn’t been run since sometime in the 1970s. It was the precursor to WOW/WAH and, as far as we know, it’s the only distance race on the West Coast where women are required to drive the entire course.

We had eleven boats at the starting line off Palos Verdes Point. Ten of us made it to the finish at the West End of Catalina Island, rounding Eagle Rock (or whatever name you call it—we have heard them all :-) ) and heading into Cat Harbor. Some boats had ratings, some didn’t. Some of the crews had raced together for years, and some had never raced at all. None of that mattered. If you showed up ready to take the helm and go for it, you were in.

The course was shortened due to conditions, so we didn’t get to have our much anticipated run down the backside of Catalina, but we had a wonderful race across the channel. Once we were all moored in Cat Harbor, we gathered at Schultz’s Landing for a mellow, come-as-you-are celebration. No frills, no schedule, just women who love sailing, and the amazing men who support them (shout out to the awesome guys who provided their boats so more women could get in on this race), sharing stories, drinks, snacks, and a lot of laughs.

At one point, Jana encouraged all the women who had driven that day to gather for a photo—there were 23 of us, with all levels of experience. That moment felt really important to me. At most regattas, seeing a handful of women at the helm is a good day. Here, it was the whole point. And it showed.

I had three women on board Cassiopeia who were beyond stellar crew:

Carrie Linskey Peters—my soul sister, longtime wing woman and tactician, with whom I have sailed and raced more times than I can count, dropped this gem when debriefing about our tactics “Sometimes you need to get greedy—put some in the bank, take the lifts early and while you can, because sometimes that big one you need and want doesn’t come as expected.”

Jana Davis—she brings years of racing and foredeck experience and an unparalleled focus. She sees what needs to be done and gets it done, often before anyone else even sees it. Always on, always ready to jump in. As she put it best, “When the race is long, it’s your commitment to each other that makes the difference.”

And Megan Spurling Marsh—who hadn’t been on my boat before but slipped right in like she’d always been there. She brought a grounded ease that added so much to the crew. Like Carrie, she has been racing most of her life and exudes the kind of embodied confidence that’s instantly felt.

We hadn’t sailed together before as a foursome, but the flow was effortless. There was no tension, no performance energy, just trust, flow… and a lot of laughter. That kind of ease and trust is so priceless and I’m so grateful for these women for bringing it. I found that I could actually relax, knowing everyone had each other’s backs and the boat was in good hands.

After a slow Sunday morning on the island, a big, yummy breakfast, coffee, more good laughs, and a nice walk to “town”, we headed out for the sail home. The sky was so blue, the breeze was perfect, and we got to fly the gennaker the whole way back to Marina Del Rey. Nobody was in a rush. It was a perfect, relaxing sail. After the energy of the race, it was exactly what we needed.

As I look back on the weekend, I can feel the energy and excitement that this race sparked in our community. It made an impact, not because it was high-stakes or competitive, but because it created a safe space for women to come together on the water, across generations and levels of experience, and take the helm without pressure.

What really stood out to me was the spirit of support and camaraderie. Everyone showed up with a willingness to help, to share, and to lift each other up. There was an unspoken mutual respect. No ego, no posturing, just women (and men) showing up for each other and for the joy of being out on the water together. It felt honest, fun, and connected in a way that reminded me why this kind of event matters. Showing up was enough. Being present was enough. And that made it something I really want to see more of in our community.

I’m grateful I got to be part of it.
And I hope it’s just the beginning of something much bigger!