“Strength doesn’t come from what you can do. It comes from overcoming the things you once thought you couldn’t.”– Rikkie Rogers

 

The day we finally cast off the docks and began our circumnavigation was certainly a monumental moment in our lives. Casting off the lines after spending a year and a half delayed from our sailing journey due to Covid, was a close second. The winds were supposed to be light and from the east which meant we would be sailing downwind. As we rounded out of the harbor and raised the sails, we were immediately met by strong winds from the Northwest, a good indication things had changed.

It was a spectacular day to resume our journey, at first. The sun was shining, the winds were gusting in the teens and we were making 9 knots with the help of the current, on a beam reach. I can’t say that I am a huge fan of sailing in the Irish Sea and it’s for just this reason. The conditions were opposite of predicted, and within an hour of sailing, the weather began to deteriorate rapidly. She is a fickle body of water, and like the Irish mentality, she is prone to wild and unpredictable behavior; a bit cheeky, and certainly not afraid to get a little rough.

Islands dotting the Irish Sea create channels and currents which initiate tumultuous, conflicting stretches of water. You can see them coming as wind, tide and current all collide. The water goes from smooth to completely choppy. Waves are rushing in all directions with no clear path, eddies are swirling, there is chaos as there is no longer a pattern to the normal flow. There is usually a flock of birds riding the roller coaster, as for some reason, fish must be drawn to these spots. Maybe, they just love bobbing like corks on the confused, violent little waves.

I always feel out of sorts when we approach the maelstroms even knowing we will most likely pass through without any danger. It seems unnatural to me to purposefully sail into swirling eddies, sometimes full-blown whirlpools, but Equus has always brought us through safely and Dan is completely unfazed. I think this day, however, was an omen to the events ahead. The maelstrom began the chain of unfortunate events. The unease that I felt was a precursor of things to come.

After we passed through the channel, we were out of the shelter of the islands and into the heart of the Irish Sea. The winds continue to build, as did the waves. Before we knew it, the waves were 8 to 10 feet. I knew it was going to be a rough day. We had 40 miles to sail to get to our anchorage at the Isle of Mann and I was starting to feel seasick.

For me, getting that iron stomach, not getting seasick even when it gets very rough, takes a few days out at sea. Sometimes I get lucky and the seas are kind and I can adjust quite quickly. Having not sailed for 15 months, having a rough first day out was not good. Dan sailed. I laid on my bed and used all my power not to vomit. I tried going up to the cockpit once during our 40-mile sail, watched a few 10-foot waves roll under our bow, then promptly went back to bed. I didn’t throw up, but being seasick is my least favorite part of sailing.

 

Isle of Mann

 

Sailing in Covid means having to research every new island and port you sail into. We had heard that the Isle of Mann was closed but it was the only good stopping point on our way over to Wales if we didn’t want to make an overnight passage. Dan wanted to just go into a harbor and drop anchor, but I insisted we call and ask permission. I didn’t want to be arrested on our first night out.

It turns out, the Isle of Man authorities were fine with us stopping for the night. We were under strict instructions to inform them of the moment of entry, do not under any circumstances try to come to shore, and inform them of the time of our departure. We were okay with that.

We arrived at Port Erin and pretty much had the harbor to ourselves. With no one allowed to visit the shore, there is no reason for anyone other than locals to be in the harbor. We could see one motorboat tied to a mooring ball. Other than that, the harbor was empty. We called the authorities and informed them of our arrival. Once again, they repeated the instructions.

We assumed there were high-powered binoculars trained on our American flag; ensuring there was no movement off our boat. It’s quite an eerie feeling sailing in times when you feel like an outcast.

 

Holyhead

 

Off bright and early the next morning, we were hopping over to Wales. The waves were much smaller and I felt great. We had been to Holyhead on our sail up to Northern Ireland two years prior. We left our boat on a mooring in that harbor as we ventured off to London to meet up with our boat buddies. Covid had changed a few things since we had last been there.

We were still able to use their dinghy service to get to shore from the mooring ball. It’s nice not to have to take our dinghy off the deck, mount the engine, and then have to pack everything back up to make passages. We tied up for the night and the next day, since we were familiar with the town, we took a hike along the gorgeous coast and went into town for some groceries and to stop at a pub.

We ended up staying two nights in Holyhead as the weather deteriorated the following day. We had better weather to make our next hop down the coast if we sat and waited. I am a huge fan of waiting for better weather, especially when there is no need to hurry.

 

The Journey South

 

We stopped at other beautiful harbors on our journey south. It was on our way to our third harbor that our alternator gave up on life. This was quite a disappointment since we had replaced this unit two years ago. Our batteries are our lifeline to everything on our boat. They supply the power to our refrigeration, our electronics, navigational equipment, and the alternator is what regulates them.

Dan figured out the alternator was not working when I noticed our inverter wasn’t working – another bit of electronics that turns on our outlets. Not only was it bad news that our alternator was gone, but we no idea how, when, and where, we would be able to get a new one. The one thing we did know, is that we couldn’t continue onward without getting a replacement. While sailing, Dan swapped out the broken unit for the one that broke and we had replaced. We had it rebuilt, but never tested it.

When the replacement failed to work properly, Dan went into crisis mode. He looked at our options and decided we needed to get into the port of Milford Haven. Milford was another marina we had stopped at on our way up to Northern Ireland. We left the boat there for two weeks while we visited family in England. We knew we could get the part we needed shipped there. Dan immediately began researching how and where to order the new alternator.

He contacted a company called Energy Solutions in the UK. They said they could ship the alternator to Milford Haven in 3 days. This was wonderful news. That night, we pulled into the harbor of Dale. We would have to call Milford Haven and try to get a spot in their crowded marina when the alternator arrived so we could pick it up.

Then, Dan had another thought. Our anchor chain had been sitting in the chain locker for two years in Ireland. It had rusted horribly. We tried soaking it in gallons of vinegar while at the dock in Bangor, but that did little to take off the thick layer of rust. Dan reloaded the chain just before we left, not comfortable with the situation. Since we left it in the vinegar until just before our departure, it was too late to order a new chain. He was having regrets.

“Since we are waiting for our alternator, let’s go ahead and order a new anchor chain as well,” Dan suggested on our first morning in Dale. “Even if we have to wait an extra day or two, at least we know we will be safe at anchor. There is no telling when we will be anywhere in the foreseeable future where we can order one.”

I was not happy about the prospect of delaying our trip more, but the reasoning was sound. The problem with ordering anything in our new age of chaos is: anything you order in the UK will be problematic. Little did we know just how problematic both our orders were going to be.

 

Life in Dale

 

It was supposed to be an overnight stop, maybe two nights. A week and a half later, it was feeling more like home.

We love Dale. It has a floating pontoon in the middle of the harbor that any boat can tie up to for free. Free docks are an extremely rare item in the sailing world. It’s great because even when the weather gets bad, you are safe and secure. It makes getting in and out of your dinghy to go to shore, very easy. You meet lots of sailors as every time someone new comes to the dock, you jump off your boat and help them tie up. You instantly make new friends.

There is no grocery store, or any business other than a pub, a couple of restaurants, and a water sports shop. But, there are beautiful trails to hike and the town and harbor are picturesque. It took the sting out of our forced stay.

We had been calling Milford Haven Marina every morning to try and get a spot in their harbor. Every day, we got the same message. “We are full. Call back tomorrow.”

When we called to check on a delivery date, the alternator had not been shipped from the shop in the UK. They had to order it from the US which was the reason for the delay. Our anchor chain arrived before the alternator, but since it weighed 300 pounds, the driver couldn’t unload it himself. He wasn’t willing to wait for the forklift to arrive so he left with our anchor and it was sent back to the factory.

Thus began the process of calling the Force 4 Chandlery, from whom we ordered the chain, and trying to find a solution to our problem. Force 4 refused to ship the chain to Dale. Milford Haven decided they would not be willing to accept our chain delivery, ever. We were quickly running out of options.

Fortune seems to find its way into our lives, and this time fortune was Kevin. Kevin is the commodore of the Dale Yacht Club. We ran into him on shore (it is such a small town you run into the same people anytime you go to shore). We informed him of our plight and he offered a possible solution.

Kevin pointed to a house in town. “You see that house there? That’s a friend of mine. He runs Dale Sailing which is in the Neyland Marina just up river from Milford Haven. I bet he would help you with your anchor chain delivery.”

A few phone calls had our anchor chain being shipped to Neyland Marina where the Dale Sailing company kindly offered to use their forklift to unload our anchor chain. Some angry calls to Energy Solutions and we were told they were receiving the alternator that day and it would be shipped the following day to Milford. It seemed both chain and alternator would be arriving at the respective marinas in two days. This was great news.

 

Adventures with the Puffins

 

Needing a vacation from our life of vacation, we decided to take a day’s sail to a nature preserve island, Skomer Island, and anchor for a night with the Puffins. One of the harbors on the island is famous for the thousands of puffins that call it home.

The sail there was short, just over an hour. We had a view of the island from our hike along the west beach of Dale. The moment we arrived, we were immediately taken back by the swarms of puffins floating in the water and flying overhead. I was in photography heaven as I pulled out my telephoto lens and shot the birdlife, cliffs, and caves in the harbor.

It was a gorgeous sunny day, a rare treat since we have been in the UK. As evening approached, Dan fired up the bbq grill and I pulled some steaks from the freezer. Our dinner was one of the most pleasurable moments we have had in a long while. It was a great reminder of why we chose this life and how magical things can be when all is running smoothly. However, it also made me forget how quickly things can go from fun to frightening when you live on a boat.

Safely anchored, the only boat in the harbor, we fell asleep to the sounds of the puffins. Dan had turned our anchor light on before we went to bed to ensure that if any boats arrived in the dark, they would see us. Unfortunately, sometime around 1:00 AM, someone else not only saw our anchor light, but they were also very attracted to it.

The flock of puffins decided our light was a beacon they needed to investigate. I don’t know why it took them until 1:00 AM to make this decision. We knew this as we heard a loud twanging sound. Our metal shrouds extend from the top of our 58 ft. mast to the deck. When they are banged against, there is a reverberation felt into the bowels of the boat.

At the time we first heard the sound, we had no idea what made it. Twang after twang startled us. We were being invaded by something. Not being the brave one in our duo, I sent Dan to investigate. I cowered in my bed as Dan turned on our shroud lights to illuminate the deck. I peered through the hatch above my bed and saw hundreds of birds circling above us.

As they circled, their dense little bodies collided with the rigging. They seemed to bounce off and go on their way, undeterred, but the noise was alarming. We were also concerned for their safety. I yelled up for Dan to shut off all the lights. The banging stopped abruptly.

We laid awake in bed after the trauma. A dense fog had moved in and the evening had turned surreal. I had a recurring thought. We are anchored in the center of this tiny harbor. If someone comes in, in the middle of the night and we have no anchor light on, we are toast.

I convinced Dan to go put a small inflatable light in our enclosed cockpit to provide some illumination of our position. Dan did so and returned to bed. A few minutes later new horrifying sounds started, fingers down a chalkboard sound. We bolted out of bed and ran topside. The puffins were back, this time covering our deck. They were quite unabashed at our presence.

One puffin lay a few inches from our feet. She just looked up at us with a “And what do you want?” expression.

“Get off our boat!” we yelled at her. She didn’t move. Meanwhile, I thought fish were jumping in the water next to our boat, which confused me. It turns out it wasn’t fish. Puffins are horrible flyers. They can’t glide, they can fly or plummet. I’m sure they regard it as falling with style.

The less brave puffins were abandoning ship when we appeared. They sounding like fish jumping as they launched unceremoniously off the boat and splashed ungracefully back into the water. We puffin herded until our deck was cleared – cleared of puffins but not their poop. The deck was now a mess.

Needless to say, it was not a restful night. It was a magical day and I highly recommend a DAY visit to the cove. Spend the night at your own risk. We returned to Dale the next morning and sailed back into reality.

 

Neyland Marina

 

We waited one day after our items were scheduled to arrive to be on the safe side. We cast off the lines on a beautiful, bright and sunny morning. 10 days after we arrived in Dale we sailed up the river, past Milford Haven to Neyland Marina, home of Dale Sailing. When we arrived, we saw that the Dale Sailing dock where we needed to land to pick up our anchor, was chock full.

We drifted around the harbor for about an hour and finally saw a small spot on the dock we could fit into. We made our way to the dock and happily tied up – feeling great about getting our anchor as we had been informed it had been delivered the day prior. We had even called Dale Sailing that morning. They confirmed two anchor chains had been delivered recently. One of them surely had to be ours.

Dan ran up to the office. He returned a few minutes later. I could tell by his expression that I would not be hearing good news. I was right. Our anchor chain had not been delivered yet. Neither chain was ours.

More phone calls. We had to wait until the company tracked down the shipper. We finally got the message that the chain was still en route and would be delivered between 12:30 and 2:00. The problem was, we were taking up room on a busy dock where people getting their boats hauled in and out of the water by Dale Sailing, needed to tie up. We felt guilty about taking up space.

Since it was already past noon, we decided to tarry a bit longer. We wandered up to the parking lot and looked for a delivery truck. We had only been looking for a half-hour or so when a large truck pulled up to the unloading area. We stalked the truck and listened to the dialogue between the drivers and the workers. This truck was delivering a chain. We high-fived – thinking our luck was finally changing.

 

A Series of Unfortunate Events

 

We were successful in getting the chain off the truck and to our boat. The wonderful people at Dale Sailing were kind, helpful, and very supportive. They helped us haul the 300-pound chain down the boat ramp and deposited it on the dock next to our boat. The problem was, we were running out of time and being asked to get our boat off the dock ASAP.

Our first mission was to get the old, rusty chain off our boat. Dale Sailing told us to leave it on the dock and they would take care of it. Second, we had to untie the old chain from the rope that extends off the 200 feet of chain. Next, we had to lay out the new chain and mark the depths in increments of 25 feet. This lets us know how much anchor chain we are laying out when we anchor. All this – knowing we were on borrowed time.

We got the old chain off the boat and immediately laid out the new. During this process, I happened to compare the new chain to the old and realized the sizes were different. My heart was in my throat as I looked up and saw Dan working feverishly.

“Dan?” I called out. “Are you sure they sent us the right size chain?”

Dan immediately hopped onto the boat and came back with his special tool for measuring chain. I watched as he carefully measured. He looked up at me and had a few explicit words. None of them good. We checked the tag on the bag the chain was shipped in, and sure enough, we had received the wrong sized chain.

The reason this was a problem is that our electric windlass, the device that raises and lowers the chain, has certain sized teeth that feed the chain through. We had no idea if this sized chain – a few millimeters smaller than our old one – would work with our windlass.

Unfortunately, we were out of time. We got the notice we needed to leave, and we needed to leave now. Boats were piling up at the dock. Dan quickly spliced the new chain to the rope, and we fed it into the chain locker. We would have to test if the chain worked with the windlass later.

 

What Can Go Wrong at the Fuel Dock?

 

Seeing as how the fuel dock was just ahead of us, and we needed fuel, we pulled our boat along the dock by the lines and up to the fuel dock – a haven for the moment. We could refuel and think about our options. Dan started the process of filling the tank and we discussed our predicament.

Trying to return the anchor chain would be a nightmare. There was no way we wanted to try and ship the chain back and wait for a new one. We were spending the night at Neyland Marina because we still had to get to Milford Haven to pick up our alternator. It was six miles away by land and we could take a taxi.

Not getting ahead of ourselves, we decided to take one step at a time, finish filling our tank, get to the new dock in the marina where we would be spending the night, taxi to get our alternator, and in the morning, test our new anchor chain. We were mentally regrouping, trying to stay positive and move forward. Dan finished refueling and headed up to the office to pay the bill.

That’s when the Border Patrol Unit showed up.

I saw the three people in uniforms with badges approaching me, and for the second time in an hour, my heart sunk. At least it didn’t have far to go. Our American flag had signaled the authorities of our arrival in the United Kingdom.

“Hi. Is this your boat?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anyone else on board?”
“My husband, but he is paying the fuel bill.”
“Will he be back soon? We are Border Patrol and we have a few questions for you.”

Dan arrived moments later. I had answered a few questions about how long we had been in the UK, and where we were headed. I had been asked if we had checked into the UK and since Dan handles that end of the business, I didn’t have the answer. I just knew he filled out and electronically submitted paperwork for the UK when we exited Northern Ireland. I was saying silent prayers that the paperwork was also what needed to be submitted to check into the country.

The leader of the patrol asked Dan a few questions and Dan disappeared into the boat. He returned a few minutes later with hard copies of our paperwork. He had checked in and we were legal. The only discrepancy was, we were a week and a half behind our sail plan from all the delays we had encountered waiting for boat parts.

Very sympathetic to our difficulties, the three officers listened to our woes. We explained why we had not departed yet and that we were still waiting for essential boat parts. Then, they asked us the mandatory questions about firearms, alcohol, drugs, illegal products, and if we had anything to disclose before they searched our boat.

I waited outside with two of the officers while Dan accompanied the third for the search. This was our first boat search by foreign authorities so needless to say, while we didn’t have anything illegal aboard, it was still nerve-wracking.

Fortunately for me, the two officers were polite, inquisitive, and eager to hear about our lifestyle and journey. The head officer described how he bought a boat and tried the sailing lifestyle, but his boat had been in dry dock in the Med for the last three years. His wife experienced rough weather on one sail and she never wanted to sail again. He admitted he was a bit jealous of our adventures.

The light banter helped pass the time until finally, Dan and the officer emerged from the cabin. We had passed, and we were free to go.

 

Thin Line Between Haven and Hell

 

We moved Equus up to the dock where we would be spending the night. It had been a harrowing day. We were both exhausted mentally and physically. We had another mission yet to accomplish. We had to hail a taxi and get our alternator. Dan had an email that it was going to be delivered the day before to Milford Haven Marina.

It was now almost 4:00 pm. The marina pub was bustling. Captain Dan made an executive decision. We would make a stop for “Happy Hour” before getting our taxi. As we sat and ordered our beverages, I had a thought. Our shipping had been anything but on time and correct. What were the chances our alternator had been delivered as promised?

Our beer and cider arrived. I asked Dan, “Don’t you think we should call and verify our alternator has arrived before we get the taxi?” I didn’t want to be a Debbie Downer, but I had become a bit of a skeptic at this point.
Dan nodded, “Sure. If it’s there, we will do a shot to celebrate. If it’s not, we will do several shots to console ourselves.” Either way, we were about to do a shot. Dan made the call to Milford Haven.

“Waiter!” I yelled out as he passed by. “I need six shots of your strongest whiskey, and six shots of tequila.”

Our alternator not only had not arrived, but it was Friday evening. The alternator was now scheduled to arrive at Milford Haven on Monday. We didn’t really do six shots each. We did one and decided to console ourselves by staying to eat a huge dinner – a rare treat for us on our limited budget.

 

Ask Before You Order

 

When you aren’t familiar with food terms on a menu outside your own country, ask before you order. I ordered the Crab Salad which was filled with yummy items like prawn, crab, smoked salmon, and something called whitebait. Dan went with the minted lamb.

I love seafood. The exception is anything with tentacles and anything that has eyes that are looking at you when you eating it. I guess it’s a visual thing rather than taste, but I just can’t get past it. What is whitebait you might be wondering? Let’s say you drop a small net into a school of minnows, or perhaps baitfish. You take those small creatures and throw them into some batter, and then the fryer. You toss them on a plate. That is whitebait. OH DEAR GOD.

All I could see when my dinner was delivered was the tiny eyes staring at me from my plate. I was horrified. There seemed to be a hundred of them. Dan has a much stronger digestive tolerance than I. He picked one up, popped it into his mouth, and said, “These are delicious!”

My problem is, I can’t stand to watch anyone eat tentacles or eyeballs. It makes me nauseous. Dan had fun with this of course. He proceeded to dip the head of one small fish in catsup and waited for me to look up, my head had been buried in my hands, and he imitated some famous person smoking a cigar using the fish. It was the last straw.

I started to eat the parts of the meal I knew I would like, the prawn, the salad, the smoked salmon; then I got to my favorite part, the crab shell filled with white crab meat. Underneath the pile of succulent white meat, was a strange orange paste.

I took one bite and was instantly overwhelmed with the flavor I can only describe as ground crab guts. It was putrid. I wanted to cry. In fact, I am tearing up right now just thinking about my disappointment. What was meant to be my consoling dinner had now left a horrible taste in my mouth.

On a bright note, Dan’s minted lamb was divine.

 

Here We Still Sit

 

Neyland is, fortunately, a small town with a grocery store. We have hot showers and can do laundry. You have to be thankful for these amenities when you live on a boat. For land people, they are a given. For us, they are heaven.

We waited until the following morning to try our anchor chain in the windlass. We didn’t feel we would be able to cope with the results if the chain didn’t work. It’s best to face new disappointments after a good night’s sleep. Fortunately, the chain worked! It feeds through a lot faster than the larger chain which can cause problems if we are not careful, but we are not returning it – we are moving on.

Come Monday, we will sail to the temporary dock at Milford Haven and collect our alternator, should it arrive as per the tracking info. Then, Dan will install it and we will continue our journey south. God willing.

While these past two weeks have been fraught with unfortunate events, I have to look back at all the good that has also been a part of our relaunching adventure in just a few short weeks. It begins with a brief story about the night before we departed Bangor and includes those people who have helped us on our way. I just wanted to give a shout-out to those who have helped us along and reminded us of people’s kindness.

We met Peter Ronaldson, a member of the OCC because he was walking down the dock with his OCC cap. I spotted him and introduced ourselves as fellow OCC members. Peter became a lifeline for us. He drove us on a two-hour round trip to get our new dinghy engine. He drove us to grocery stores to provision for our journey south. Then, to top off all that kindness, he and his lovely wife Evie, treated us to dinner at the Royal Ulster Yacht Club.

Royal Ulster is the oldest Yacht Club in Northern Ireland. It was the home club of Lord Lipton, a challenger for America’s Cup for many years. It’s a gorgeous club filled with fascinating sailing history. Not only did Peter treat us to dinner, but he also gave us a tour of the club where we found a photo of him among the club’s history.

Peter finished the evening by presenting us with two books, one on the history of the club and an annual with stories from its members. His kindness and generosity will be one we remember for the duration of our voyage.

The second surprising random act of kindness was from a group of teenagers. Now we did have a negative experience when teenagers boarded our dinghy while we were in the town of Fishguard, and we had to chase them off. This group of teenagers showed us the wonderful side of the Welsh youth population.

They were having a great time jumping off the floating pontoon were tied to in Dale. We had just returned for our outing at Skomer Island and puffin watching when we realized the paddle embedded in the hull that reads our boat speed had stopped working… again. It takes swimming under the boat and freeing the algae to make it start working again.

Neither Dan nor I wanted to take that plunge. The water is frigid, we don’t have proper wetsuits, and unless you are a seal or from the UK, you don’t want to be submerged. When we saw these youngsters willingly jumping into the water, it dawned on me to ask them if they would be willing to make the swim under our boat.

It was a stretch, but we had to ask. The one poor boy was already shivering uncontrollably as he was standing on the dock and we were asking them if they would be interested in helping us with a task. However, much to our delight, they immediately agreed.

They donned the masks we provided and followed our specific instructions. It took them several attempts to dive under and reach the depth and free the wheel. They did succeed. I offered to let them warm up on our boat, feed them my homemade cookies, and give them a warm towel, but they declined. They kept thanking us for our kind offers. These were truly wonderful and well-raised kids that represent all that is right in the world.

The final kind gestures that helped us overcome our ordeal were from Kevin Rogers, the commodore of Dale Yacht Club, and Dale Sailing. Without their combined efforts, we would still be wandering around looking for a place to unload our new anchor chain. For all you sailors in the UK, I highly recommend both the port of Dale and any purchases or boat work by Dale Sailing. Neyland Marina is also high on our list of favorite marinas in Wales.

 

What Will Be Will Be

 

We say in the sailing world, it’s not if something will go wrong, it’s when. Our boat buddies just called to tell us that they lost their engine. It’s a bigger deal than anything we have gone through. They had repairs done to their engine over the winter. The marina in Portugal put the engine hose into an inlet instead of an outlet. They reached Spain and realized the engine had been flooding. The damage is massive as will be the repairs.

Here we were envious of them, being able to continue sailing problem-free, and then this happened. While we still have other issues on our boat, I am constantly amazed at how Dan handles each one. He prioritizes, fixes the important things, and makes a list of the rest. He understands the items on the list will always be replaced with new ones and takes it all in stride.

For an obsessive person like me, this type of lifestyle has required some attitude adjustment. There’s a reason .01% of the world’s population are blue water sailors. If you are not of a mind to be flexible and problem solver, you simply won’t make it. Dan can do both, and I am learning. I love learning. I love our lifestyle because it’s always an adventure. As a writer, it takes a good protagonist to create a great story. I have no lack of fuel for fodder.

In the words of Christie Brinkley “I really believe in the old expression that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. It’s through adversity that you find the strength you never knew you had.” By the end of our journey, we are going to be the strongest people I know!

Fair Winds,
Alison and Dan
S/V Equus