It’s no coincidence that my first book was about a woman who wants to sail away.
I bought my first boat at 23 years old and left Seattle the next year. Starting in 1999 my life became one of traveling until I couldn’t anymore and then working until I could travel again.
A few years back, I got my captain’s license, a 50 ton Master license to be precise, with the idea that it would make me more employable in new ports. Instead of getting me work as a captain, it has garnered me a new amount of respect in other ways.
I’ve done electrical work on other people’s boats and sold marine hardware. I much prefer the first.
Without a home base, I do upkeep on my own boat wherever I am. Instead of sailing away for a vacation, I’m living my life at sea.
My boat is better than 50 years old, so there’s always something to be done.
Not all jobs are painless. Hauling myself down the anchor rode so I could remove it from the rudder entailed using the barnacled hull as a lever.
Mildly keelhauled.
But even that work is a joy compared to stultifying in a port, wishing I was sailing.
This is the life for me.
