Goodnight Cruise

December 1, 2012

It is time to bid farewell to the star filled night sky, to the meteor showers, to the dolphins that scared the crap out of me on night watch. I am just settling in to my last chocolate watch (the salty watch is 8-12, 3-6 is for chocolate); in a few hours the sun will come up and we will line up for the first of several channels that will bring us to our new home.

Brisbane, by all accounts will be a wonderful place for our family. Victoria imagines it to be Portland, Maine with a San Diego climate. I anticipate bike trails and baristas, live music and Aikido. The kids foresee toy stores, bike rides, and art classes. Maybe we are right, and soon we will know. No matter what though, it will represent the closing of one of the most amazing chapters of my life so far.

In the past year I have had the chance to experience my life exactly as it was meant to be. Father, husband, sailor, and friend. Responsibilities so clear and easy to identify that the question is never “is this the right thing to be doing,” but rather “how do I do this thing right.” The sails needed trimming, the children needed love, my relationship with Vick took center stage. Beautiful beaches, pristine turquoise water, and nature trails, we knew just what to do with those.

As I write these very words the first light of dawn is glowing faintly in the East. That light represents new adventure, new challenge and the beginning of the next chapter. By the time the sun sets tonight we will be tied to a pile mooring in front of the botanical gardens on Brisbane’s doorstep. With a little luck and presence of mind I will preserve the beauty, simplicity and lessons of our season on the Pacific Ocean through this transition. I hope to take that attitude and rediscovered sense of self into a new job, dojo, and community. I hope to spread the love.

Until the next time then; goodnight stars, goodnight gently following sea, goodnight dolphins playing in our bow wake. Goodnight to distant beaches and lazy reaches, goodnight cruiser potlucks and bonfires. Goodnight to children cracking up as they find the millionth new way to create joy on a deserted island, and Vick’s proud smile as she discovers a new way to make an exotic treat out of ingredients we forgot we had. Goodnight to the chocolate watch, and the chip watch, and the perfect bliss when the engine turns off and it’s just the wind through the rigging, the surge of the hull and lift of the sails. Good morning to a new day.


  1. Comment by Lois King

    Lois King December 1, 2012 at 12:08 pm

    I have watched you and Convivia from afar since you set sail from have borne my dreams and hopes with you as you crossed the Pacific…it is with some sadness and some joy that I read this post from you as now I have to move from vicarious voyaging to real…bless the skipper and crew of Convivia and thank you for sharing your journey with me. Bless you all and may you find joy in your new lives.

  2. Comment by Jim. Loomba-Loomba

    Jim. Loomba-Loomba December 1, 2012 at 6:01 pm

    You said that beautifully!!!! I loved it.
    We’re so glad we met you and Victoria and the kids in Santa Cruz! A year before you took off. Way to go! Way to sail! Way to love! Way to live!!!!

  3. Comment by Cidnie

    Cidnie December 1, 2012 at 6:40 pm

    Wishing you and the team nothing but joy in your next adventure. I hope your time in Oz is magical indeed.

  4. Comment by Michael Robertson

    Michael Robertson December 3, 2012 at 11:18 am

    Nicely written, you’re dead on about the salt watch and the chocolate watch–never thought of it though. Hope we continue to get updates on the Bradfords as Landlubbers 2.0. All the best, The Del Viento crew

  5. Comment by Torre – Fearful Adventurer

    Torre – Fearful Adventurer December 4, 2012 at 11:06 pm

    Congratulations on your crossing. All at once you gave me tingles, a smile, and a heavy feeling of nostalgic sadness. Please email me when you get a chance and let me know what your plans are.

Comments are closed.

Go top