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shipshape and Bristol fashion, and its name (“Sea
You Later!”) inspires a smirk in everyone who sees
it. Problem is, they’ve only seen it tied to the dock.
Where’ll you go, and what’ll you do? Frankly (and
fortunately), Mr. Carson offers comprehensive training
to clients and has helped many first-time sailors
quickly learn the ropes (Tip #1: ropes are not called
ropes on a boat).
An additional option are classes offered by the American
Sailing Association. Their classroom and handson
instruction combines sail instructors with smaller
club sailboats. The smaller size of the boats allows
them to react faster to your input as crewmen and are
less forgiving of mistakes. Fine tuning your abilities
here will make dramatic improvements to your sailing
on bigger, more forgiving boats. And a final option
is to hire a personal sailing trainer to teach you
— while on your own boat — how to be a competent
captain, right down to the best way to prepare dinner
in a galley (“kitchens” are for landlubbers).
For Arizonans, the Pacific Northwest is only a few
hours away by air, summers are a welcome trade, and
the water passages along the British Columbia coastline
to Alaska is home to so many ports and places
to explore that the destination becomes secondary to
the journey.
In other words, it’s an area perfect for yachting.
Nick Kreucher knows these waters well, having just
returned home after two and a half weeks sailing solo
towards Alaska. A programmer in Seattle’s booming
tech industry, Mr. Kreucher regularly goes for day
and weekend sailing trips around Puget Sound for
love of the sport, but this recent adventure, a trip to
Desolation Sound, was his first multi-week adventure.
To get there, boaters head north out of Seattle
and spend most of the journey protected from the
Pacific by Vancouver Island. Eventually, right on
the 50th parallel, you’ll arrive at Desolation Sound.
Southern Alaska is only another week or so away.
After his return, Mr. Kreucher said he was most
surprised at how quickly the concept of time
ceased to exist.
“It was just so freeing, especially going alone. I could
do anything I wanted, at any timeframe I wanted.
I very quickly lost track of time. What day of the
week it was didn’t matter. How many days have
I been gone? It didn’t matter,” said Mr. Kreucher.
“Just keep sailing!”
Few vacations can bring that kind of calendar-clearing
freedom. He admits, though, to keeping tabs on
email … at least for the first few days.
Each day brought new challenges and new opportunities,
whether kayaking right up to rocky cliff faces
towering out of the water, stand-up paddle-boarding
around secluded lagoons, pints with other boaters
and locals in town, or just relaxing with a beer and a
book. And even snorkeling.
Snorkeling? Mr. Kreucher clues me in to Hornby
Island, known locally as the “Hawaii of the North”,
where broad sandy beaches and warm shallow water
create a slice of paradise for boaters making the voyage.
It’s only 450 miles as the crow flies to Alaska
(versus 2,700 to Honolulu), yet a basic mask and
snorkel is all that’s needed. Few trips in the geographic
fringes of Alaska can include “snorkel” on
the packing list, but Hornby Island is just another
unique treat for boaters from Mother Nature.
It seems like every week there’s another study in the
news showing that disconnecting in nature is medicine
for our always-on society.
The benefits were obvious to Mr. Kreucher. He described
how quickly his priorities realigned, and how
peculiar his original packing list seemed by the time
he returned home.
“I made sure I brought a good, working (digital) projector
and I think I watched one movie. I was worried
I’d get bored traveling alone, but every day was
full of new experiences,” Mr. Kreucher said. “You’re
working your brain and your body, experiencing new
things and meeting new people all the time.”
Mr. Kreucher’s final piece of advice: “Bring enough beer.”
Words of wisdom for anyone, regardless of the journey.
If you’re like many Arizonans you’re not from ‘round
these parts. Quite possibly, you’re from the Midwest,
now dividing your year between the Grand Canyon
and Great Lakes.
Gwen LeVeque has been sailing the Lakes since meeting
her late husband 43 years ago. They raised a son
and a daughter going on regular weekend and weeklong
sail trips, and one of her first comments to me
It seems like every week there’s another study in the news showing
that disconnecting in nature is medicine for our always-on society.