My Life on Boats: First Sail with Kent

Before the wind hit!

Before Kent and I were married, we set some tests for each other. We survived an international trip, hiked together, and went tent camping. The sailing test remained. Although I had been on many boats, I had never been sailing. So, Kent chartered a boat in St. Petersburg, Florida. I loved the shiny new boat that waited for us at a dock in a rather posh marina. I smiled! I was finally going sailing!

I sensed that Kent was preoccupied and nervous as he familiarized himself with the boat’s systems and contemplated our passage south along the Florida coast. Perhaps unrealistically, I trusted that with his many years of experience, we’d have smooth sailing. I wasn’t worried.

Kent at the chart table
Kent looking at the nautical charts, planning our route

After grocery shopping, we took a shakedown cruise into Tampa Bay. Kent raised the sail, but there was little wind. So after he killed the engine, we lazed in the cockpit, enjoying the February sun and the gentle rocking of the boat. This was the glamorous sailing life I’d dreamed of! We were almost dozing when a gust of wind whacked the sails, the boat heeled, and suddenly we were on the move!

  “Take the helm!” Kent shouted.  “Point straight ahead!”  He went forward to lower the sail, but he couldn’t figure out how the furler worked. Unprintable language blew past. The boat bounced and heeled, and I held tight to the wheel, doing my best to stay upright and steer straight ahead.

 My mind raced. What would I do if Kent fell into the water?  I pictured him flailing in the waves while the boat sailed on without him. Should I try to save him? How? There are no brakes on a boat. How would I get back to him or the marina? Was this the end of our new life together?

Fortunately, before I dissolved in panic, he figured out the mechanism for the furler, pulled in the sail, and came back to take the helm. I let go, and we hugged each other.

 It was time to head back to the marina to meet my cousin for dinner.  My hand still shook as I pressed her number on my phone.  “We’re out on the bay and should be back on time,” I said.

As we neared the marina, Kent looked worried. “I’ve never had a boat that backed up before. I don’t know if I can back it into the slip. We circled past

several times. The space was not much larger than the boat. I have trouble backing up a car. I certainly didn’t want to try it.

I called my cousin again, explaining why we’d be late. She couldn’t stop laughing. “I see you out there! I’ve been in that situation!”

            “I don’t know how to do this,” Kent finally confessed, and called the marina, explaining his predicament. A man needs courage to ask for help, and I admired him for doing so.

            “Just pull up near the end of the dock!” the voice on the marina phone responded to Kent’s embarrassed call. In a few minutes, a lithe young fellow ran the length of the dock and leaped aboard our slowly moving boat. In minutes, he backed the boat into the narrow slip with nary a bump or scrape.

 “I think I could do it now.” Kent thanked our rescuer, who indicated this was no big deal and a common occurrence.

            It was the beginning of our Florida sailing adventure.  Would our relationship pass the sailing test? More to come next time…

More Sailing Memoirs

I’ve recently read two books, both by young women who sailed as children with their fathers who have written their own, quite different versions of their daughters’ stories. I’m still searching for a copy of Gordon Cook’s elusive book, Schooner to the Southern Oceans: The Captain James Cook Bicentenary Voyage, 1776-1976, and have Tom Neale’s All in the Same Boat : Living Aboard and Cruising.

Boat Kid : How I Susrvived Swimming with Sharks, Being Homeschooled, and Growing up on a sailboat. by Melanie Neale,

It’s rare to find a memoir written by someone so young. Melanie Neale, born in 1979, published this book in 2013. Her story begins with her first introduction to Chez Nous when her parents visit the boat under construction before she is born, and ends when she is 25

Only after finishing this book did I realize that it was intended as a children’s or young adult book, and that she had previously published Boat Girl (2012), an adult book that covers roughly the same material. The book is arranged chronologically, with each chapter heading including the location, dates, and her age. This made it easy to keep track, since sometimes a year goes by between chapters, especially as she gets older/. Her college years are summarized in one chapter. After finishing this book, I feel compelled to read both the adult book and her father’s account of family life on boats. Reading this and Suzanne Heywood’s memoir of another child who grew up on a boat, and whose father was also a writer, has led me to reflect on both the positive and negative aspects of that experience. Since Kent and Pam also hoped to raise their children on a boat, but gave up after a year, I wonder what it would have been like had they succeeded. I also wonder whether either of his children will end up writing their own version of their months of living on a boat.

Review of Wavewalker: A Memoir of Breaking Free by Suzanne Heywood.. London: William Collins, 2023

Heywood has written a gripping tale of her incredible and troubling childhood from ages 7 to 17, when she lived on a sailboat with her parents and younger brother. Her father set out with his wife and two children

from their home in England, obsessively intent on retracing Captain Cook’s third voyage on its 200th anniversary in 1976, perhaps as a publicity stunt.

 As the intended three-year voyage turns into ten years, he seems to lose track of that goal (after all, the anniversary has passed), and becomes concerned mainly with luring crew to pay to work on the boat for the privilege of making a passage and learning to sail. He takes on several jobs that never seem to last long. The family obviously needs money since their sponsors have backed out, and they have no jobs. Several thoughts occurred to me as I read this book.  Probably the biggest one relates to the  “breaking free” of the book’s subtitle. What was it like to be imprisoned in someone else’s dream?  Even so, Suzanne loves the sea and the boat.

 I wonder about the motivations of parents who choose to homeschool their children and/or take them out to sea. Do they seek to take them away from the “ordinary world,” or do they seek to broaden their experience?  Do they wish to control them or protect them? Or are they, paradoxically, seeking both of these things?  I wondered about this in both Boat Kid, and in Heywood’s book.

  Like Neale’s book, the Wavewalker is organized chronologically, with chapter headings that include the dates and the number of days for each section of the voyage. Many passages in the book are beautifully written. The author, like Neale, excels at showing, not telling. The narrator’s voice in the first part of the book sounds much too mature for a seven-year-old, and Heyward has obviously invented most of the conversations throughout the book, although some might come verbatim from her journals, and perhaps even from her parents’ stories.

I would like to know the parents’ version of the story. From the narrative, it is almost certain that they treated their daughter cruelly and unreasonably and favored their son, but this is the daughter’s story, and we see mainly her perspective. The fact that her parents had nothing to do with her when she was writing the book was chilling. Her mother has since died. I hope to read her father’s account, Schooner to the Southern Oceans (2011), but I have been unable to find a copy anywhere, whereas, ironically, Wavewalker is a bestseller.  I wonder how many other “boat kids” have written their own versions of their parents’ stories when they grew up. 

So long until next time! Linnea and Kent

Two Old Men (no boat, no goat)

Written by George Kent Kedl (the author himself!)

Pelican diving into the Sea of Cortez

While we were in Indonesia in May, I saw a notice on my phone for a 36-foot sailboat for sale in Albuquerque for the ridiculously low asking price of $10,000. “Very odd to find an ocean-going sailboat in Albuquerque,” I thought, and out of curiosity, after we returned home, I wrote a note to the seller asking for more information. She told me that she had recently inherited the boat from her grandfather but not his sailing genes to go with it and wanted to sell it. It was an old boat built in Taiwan in 1977 and stored in San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico. She could tell me almost nothing about the boat and said to contact a fellow in San Carlos for more information. I did not know about his connection to the boat, but I wrote asking for more details. I got very little information in response, so I turned to Google and found an old for-sale notice for the boat. It had a few pictures and a partial equipment list. It had at one time been outfitted for blue-water cruising.

I began thinking I could afford it. Wouldn’t having a boat down on the Sea of Cortez, a body of water I had long dreamed of cruising, be fun? I imagined Linnea and I could make quick trips down to San Carlos, then gunk-hole up and down Baja and the mainland. We should not have to upgrade expensive equipment if we didn’t plan on extensive voyaging. So, we made a quick trip to San Carlos to take a look.

We spent a night on the way with our friend Jim in Green Valley, Arizona. Jim had a boat built in Taiwan in 1977 and sailed the Pacific for years before returning to Los Angeles and selling the boat. Then, about the time Pam, the boys, and I sailed through the Atlantic and the Caribbean, he took his wife and family on another voyage through the Pacific.

 Jim and I grew up in Sheridan, Wyoming. His older brother was my high school classmate. Jim was interested in the boat, and because he was familiar with boats of that vintage built in Taiwan, I invited him to join us. He would know more about what we were looking at than I would. However, he declined because a back issue limited his walking.

 After arriving in San Carlos, I investigated the cost of storing the boat and decided it was more than I wanted to pay. The whole trip had been a fool’s errand; nevertheless, I wanted to see the boat. It seemed to be in good shape for a vessel its age and would be a bargain for a younger person willing to put in a lot of labor (and some money) to bring it up to cruising condition.

On our return trip to Albuquerque, we spent the night with Jim again, and I filled him in on what I had found. Jim had just finished filling quart bottles of his homemade rum when we arrived late afternoon. We had a pizza for dinner and sampled his rum before and after.

 “Two old men and a boat would make a good story!” Linnea said, going to bed and leaving us to our boat talk. We drank another glass of rum and imagined two old men getting an old boat and fixing it up. They wouldn’t just for gunk-hole around the sea of Cortez. Oh, no! They’d spend a year or two or three sailing the Pacific. My, that was good rum.

 Our talk ignited a dream I thought I had put to rest 25 years ago when Pam and I left our boat for the last time. Our talk of the boat, or perhaps it was the rum, ignited something in Jim, as well, because, after a third glass, we were no longer imaging what a good story it would make; we were talking about how we should proceed to check out the boat more thoroughly and what it would take to prepare it for voyaging in the Pacific.

Hearing about our ideas in the morning, Linnea still thought “Two Old Men and a Boat” would make a great story. Maybe Jim and I could make it happen.

Back home in Albuquerque, all I could think about was the boat and the opportunity, even at my age, to fulfill my long-held dream of sailing the Pacific. I planned to return to the boat for a thorough inspection with my new partner, Jim, who had some medical appointments and a trip planned that would postpone our trip to Mexico for a month and a half.

Yesterday morning, after a couple of weeks of not hearing from Jim, he called to tell me he could not proceed. The medical report on his back was discouraging, and while vacationing with his family, he realized he could no longer keep up.

 I should not have been surprised that Jim was not up to it. Nevertheless, I was so gripped by the idea that I couldn’t drop it. Who else did I know who might be footloose and crazy enough to join me sailing the Pacific? Maybe my childhood friend, Dick, a passably healthy, active widower, might be tempted?

“Hi, Dick! Do you want to sail the Pacific with me in an old boat?” I ran out of minutes on my phone as I talked, but I could tell he was excited about getting out and doing something adventuresome. However, he’d never sailed, never had a dream of sailing, and this would probably not be an adventure he would have chosen. Nevertheless, after talking on the phone, I wrote a long e-mail laying out everything I thought would be involved and spelled out my dream.

Where was Linnea in all of this? I knew she would not, and I did not expect her to give up her active and engaged life in Albuquerque to live on a boat for a year or two. I imagined she would fly to places we visited, and we could tour them together. She might accompany us on some of the shorter passages from island to island. We’ve talked about visiting Australia together for years; that is where we’d wait out the typhoon season for several months.

I had not thought about the burden I would be dumping on her—the constant maintenance and repairs our property requires. Nor was I thinking about how my traipsing off to sail the Pacific without her would seem to her. Did I not care for her? Or for the life that we had made together? She knew that my earlier sailing dream had formed when I was anxious to escape the life I was living. Was I doing the same thing again? This morning, as we talked, I realized that I didn’t want to escape anything. I love the life I have now.

So, I wrote Dick to apologize for even bringing up my crazy idea with him—I knew this was not his thing. I was acting on the rebound from losing Jim’s partnership. I wrote to the boat owner and told her I was no longer interested in buying. As Linnea says, I don’t have to sail the Pacific to tell a story about two old men and an old boat. I could make up a good story. Maybe I will.

Below: Kent at home and scenes from San Carlos.

Postscript: I was about to post this when I got a call that there was a goat at our front door! I opened the door, and this is what I saw:

Goat at the door.

Kent says, “Dear, I said I want a BOAT, not a GOAT!

June’s Bustin’ Out All Over

Who wants to sail or paddle down the Rio Grande?

In April, we quoted Pam writing about the dinghy under the bed, when she was dreaming of taking off to sea again and leaving the South Dakota winter behind.

At the end of April, we finally got the old dinghy out on the Rio Grande.  Getting it from the back of the car and carrying it to the water and out again was the hard part. Our trip was rather short at about 45 minutes from launch to take-out, but we did it!  Paddling down the Rio Grande, we’d never know we were in the midst of a city of over 500,000.  It was a little taste of life on the water. Then we went to San Francisco where waves rolled in from the Pacific.  I made a short video, hoping whet (wet?) your interest.

A lovely response to We Ran Away to Sea

We’ve recently had some lovely responses to We Ran Away to Sea. Geoff Boerne, the captain of Lo Entropy, a boat Kent and Pam encountered in Mexico in the 1990s, last week finally received the copy of the book we’d sent him at the end of February. Apparently it takes a long time to get a book to Denmark! He tells us he started reading on Friday evening and finished the book on Saturday afternoon, sad to have it come to an end. He also saw the book as not just a sailing book, but a love story, which I, too, think it is.  He had much more to say, and, of course, identified with all the sailing bits.  Thank you, Geoff!

June-July Events – Mark Your Calendars!

Kent will be giving a book talk: Saturday, June 29 from 1-2 p.m at the Juan Tabo branch of the Albuquerque Public Library.

He will also be selling and signing books with a few other authors on Saturday, July 6 at the lovely Garcia Street Books, Santa Fe, from 10-12 am. We hope to see some of our Santa Fe friends!

Three copies of the book are now available at the Albuquerque Public Library, and there is a waiting list! The call number is 813.54 KEDL. Please request more copies!

We Still Need More Reviews

Check out the new reviews on Amazon and on our webpage:  Follow Kent’s author page by clicking on follow on Amazon.  We need more reviews!  Good Reads is another place to put reviews. Can you help us get up to 50? We’re almost there! See the help on posting reviews a bit farther down the page.

There was a sudden spike in book sales in early June for three days in a row. That was a welcome mystery, and we hope it keeps up.

I also added some new content to the book page on Amazon. But, oops! Only part of the content appears on the paperback page. It’s all there on the Kindle page, so look there for now, and I’ll try to fix it tomorrow.

Send us a picture of you reading the book

Please send us your picture of you or someone reading the book or seeing the book in interesting places.

Esther Jantzen, author of Walk: Jamie Bacon’s Secret MIssion on the Camino de Santiago, and founder of Elder Activist Readers, enjoying We Ran Away to Sea.

Return from Indonesia

We took a break from book stuff for three weeks in May and enjoyed a fascinating impromptu trip to Indonesia. We were so captivated by our experiences that we totally forgot to take pictures with the book in the many intriguing and scenic places we visited. Alas! But here we are, without the book!

Linnea and Kent riding high in the sky in Bali, Indonesia