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Engines
One thing I learned early on in my bluewater sailing career is that there are, in fact, just two sorts of bluewater sailors: there are poets, who become engineers in spite of themselves, and there are engineers, who become poets in spite of themsel ves. I count myself among the former. From the very beginning,...
  This is a common sight at Dowling's fuel dock in St. Georges, Bermuda, both in the spring and the fall when the seasonal stampede of migrating yachts passes through.  It never fails to amaze me how many jerry jugs of fuel some bluewater sailors are willing to carry.  In this case I counted 16...
This story begins in a dead flat calm somewhere between Bermuda and Portsmouth, New Hampshire, late last spring.  Said dead calm is pictured here in all its glory.  In all my years of wandering about the watery parts of our world, I swear I have never ever seen a stretch of open ocean quite as...

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