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On Birds and Boredom: Sailing Across the Atlantic Ocean thumbnail

On Birds and Boredom: Sailing Across the Atlantic Ocean

On the second day of our Atlantic crossing, a bird flew in through the porthole next to our bed in the owner's cabin. I was on night watch with Kristi when Ryan appeared in the saloon with a look of dazed confusion on his face. "There's a bird in my bedroom," he mumbled. I looked at Kristi and laughed, assuming…

5 Lessons in Outfitting a New Boat thumbnail

5 Lessons in Outfitting a New Boat

I've mentioned before, in a post called The 80% Rule, that buying a new boat is not at all like buying a new car, unless you expect your new car to be delivered with a missing stereo, a broken speedometer and a bumper that falls off as you pull out of the dealership. The problem is there are so many…

Questions from My Mom about Life on a Boat thumbnail

Questions from My Mom about Life on a Boat

My Facebook Page can be confusing, I know. One minute I’m showing pictures of me lounging in a hammock on a Caribbean beach and, a few hours later, I'm posting an update of me eating sushi in New York City with friends I made during the Clipper Round the World Race…for example. Even I find it hard to keep track…

5 Lessons Learned from Managing a Crew thumbnail

5 Lessons Learned from Managing a Crew

When Cheeky Monkey reached the Canary Islands after five days at sea, it was clear the crew needed a stiff drink and some space. This was our “shakedown,” our test run for the Atlantic crossing with our full crew of six: Meg and Kristi, our friends from the ’13-14 Clipper Round the World Race, Morgan, a French solo sailor we…

Moroccan Henna: The Branding of a Gullible Tourist thumbnail

Moroccan Henna: The Branding of a Gullible Tourist

After hours of walking through the winding maze of narrow streets that branch out from the center of the Marrakesh Bazaar, we finally reach a wide open space surrounded by tourist restaurants, snake charmers and roaming vendors who try desperately to push their trinkets into our hands in an effort to make an impromptu sale. It’s here that I know…

Morocco Markets: Objects of My Desire thumbnail

Morocco Markets: Objects of My Desire

It was hard to focus on helming as we pulled into the harbor in Rabat, Morocco, as I stared with wonder at the ancient stone structures lining the right side of the entrance and the colorful wooden fishing boats bobbing up and down on their moorings. I sensed that we hadn’t just left Europe; we’d sailed into another era from…