I am writing this post while in Tokyo traveling through Japan. We are not on a boat. We were on the boat for a year. We sailed from Rhode Island to the Bahamas and back. That entire time, I didn’t write a blog post. At this point, it wouldn’t make sense to try and recount each place and every experience.

Our time on the boat has become a memory that we will keep and learn from. It was a trip that we had planned for over three years. And prior to that, one that we had prepped for by sailing and learning on the Great Lakes, on boat charters in some really great places with wonderful friends, and tying sailing knots- so many knots. And reading maps, and learning engine maintenance, and sewing- lots of sewing- fiberglass, boat electrical systems, and dealing with smelly boat heads (toilets).

We started our year-long journey after finding the perfect boat. A Helia 44, and not just any Helia, the Helia. This was Starry Horizons, the most well-outfitted Helia 44 of any that had been made. She offered a balance of comfort and enough performance to keep us moving along.

After selling our furniture, clearing out our closets, giving our things away, renting out our condo, and selling our car, we left for the Chesapeake Bay where we were met by the incredibly gracious David and Amy, the only previous owners of Starry Horizons and the people who had loved her, outfitted her, and cared for her so well. They provided us with a full week of orientation on all the systems and imparted as much of their experience as possible. It was an amazing and generous thing to do — and so needed.

It was there, in the upper Chesapeake, that we began our journey. We spent the summer sailing up the east coast, through New York City, to Rhode Island and to Block Island. We were visited by some of our east coast friends and family, and even by our California family, people who experienced with us the start of our journey, when everything was new.

Soon winter was coming and it was time for us to make our way south. With lots of stops along the way, including a long stop for annual maintenance, the requisite boat repairs, and some short visits back to Chicago, we picked our way south along the east coast. As November approached, the weather became less predictable, and south bound opportunities become fewer. Since our mast was 70+ feet tall, the ICW (the Intercoastal Waterway) was not on option, which put us at the mercy of waves, weather and current; our sailing windows were fewer and shorter.

Our goal was to be in Florida no later than mid-December, in time to cross to the Bahamas with the Salty Dawg Rally. A good organization that provided weather and logistical support.

The Bahamas was wonderful. As soon as we crossed over to the Berry Islands the water was crystal-clear and the sand was white. So much different than the sailing we had experienced before. The Bahamas is incredibly shallow, full of sharks, conch fritters at every restaurant – and the beer was not great. There were weather events with a lot of drama, narrow island cuts timed to avoid currents and standing waves. The water was amazing. It was so clear you could not tell how deep or shallow it was. The sea life was amazing; rays, tuna, schools of colorful fish, and we love sharks.

We met some great people. People who used their time to transport stray dogs from the Bahamas to forever homes in the US or Canada, young couples with kids doing life differently than most, and people who had been cruising for years who could not imagine living any other way. We learned to travel slowly. To be comfortable staying in one place and letting it reveal itself with more nuance.

We learned a hell of a lot. Of course we learned a lot about sailing. If you’re a sailor you never stop learning or you will most likely drown. But we learned more about ourselves, about what we enjoyed and loved doing. We learned that for us, the sailing got in the way of the exploring we loved to do. And we missed diverse urban cultural experiences, great cocktails, food, and museums.

And so now we are in Japan. We are still traveling slowly, spending time to get some understanding of a place. Going to grocery stores, getting lost, seeing where the days take us, navigating another train/bus/plane/ferry system. Experiencing.

Like on our sailboat, we keep moving along, slowly but surely.

This is just a big photo dump. There is no way I could possibly go through all of these and add any meaningful commentary. At least they’re in chronological order. The big camera rarely came out. There are just so many sunsets, sunrises, dolphins and storms to capture. .