2025 Sailing Season

Leaks, Laughter & Letting Go

It’s nearing the end of 2025 and I’m sitting here so incredibly grateful for my sailing season.  It was great… but it wasn’t without its spectacular moron moments. Let’s start with the good stuff.  The wins that made me grin.

The Highs:

• Insulated the built-in cooler. (I think it made a difference.)

• Fixed the “smile” and puttied the top of the keel.

  

  

• Bought a new Yamaha 9.9 outboard - this was a big deal!

• Stayed on a mooring alone for the first time. (I’ll admit, I didn’t sleep much.)

• Went out sailing more often.

• Stood up on my paddleboard without immediately falling in.

  

• Made wonderful new friends, as always.

• Completed our Yacht Club’s week-long cruise and actually participated instead of hiding (a huge win over my shyness!).

• Explored new places like Foshay’s Creek.

  

• Returned to my favourite place, Swan Creek, for a perfect day with friends and a curious little duck.

• Had power to my bow and stern navigation lights and one USB for charging phones.

• Had real cockpit cushions, finally. Thanks to a friend who sewed them up for me.

  

  
  

Sounds pretty perfect, doesn’t it?

Well, let me tell you about those other moments.

The Lows (The "Moron Moment" Chronicles):

1. Cruise Day One - Near Disaster

   Discovering that Northwest winds at 36 Km per hour and gusts of 54 Km per hour at home base is less than ideal travel conditions. I buddied up with another new sailor. We holed up in McCormack’s Cove for protection

   1. Forgot all my frozen food at home after we departed for a weeklong cruise. Who does that?

   2. The engine cut out. The brand new engine! The water was so rough that the engine was cavitating. As we bopped up or down (not sure which), the prop wrapped the kayak’s floating line around itself.

   3. Sigh...then we lost steerage and lightly kissed another boat.

   4. Finally, a brave friend kayaked out and offered this sage advice: “When you're catching a mooring, approach into the wind.”  Lightbulb moment.  This classic moron moment was brought to you by Gypsy Wind. I knew this, but somehow at that moment my brain chose to shut down.

   5. We eventually safely made it back to McCormack’s Cove, got rafted up with the frozen food on board and laughed about it over dinner. 

   6. I discovered I was missing a bag of stuff. When I radioed our friend, whom I suspected had my missing bag.

      Him (on the open cruise channel): “The one with the Metamucil?”

      Me: “...Yes, that's the one.”

      Moron Moment #2: Next time, use the phone.

    

2. My windows still leak despite new gaskets, windows and caulking.  I mean, it only leaks a little compared to before, but still a little bummed.  The outer gaskets were crazy hard to install.

4. My trailer battery kicked the bucket.

5. The Hard Stuff. The season also held real weight.  Watching a friend’s home and boat burn was heartbreaking, a stark reminder of what truly matters. Our community’s response was a beautiful silver lining.

   
   

6. My own boat’s electrical system still remains a mystery.  I ended the season with bow lights, a stern light, and one USB port. The rest?  Solar-powered lawn lights strapped to the mast and stern. Real classy, but it worked.

   

   
   

7. The Wharf vs. The Current (I Lost)

   I was coming into the southern side of the wharf to get craned out for the season.  I thought I had it in the bag. It was easy to compensate for the southern wind.  However, the mighty St. John / Wolastoq River had something else in mind. Invisible Current! Needless to say, my bow met the wharf.  Let’s call it a 'firm introduction'.  The kind folks told me it happens to everyone, so maybe this one doesn’t fully count as a complete Moron Moment. Maybe.

   

   
   

8. A major chronic pain flare-up ended my season early, meaning my amazing husband had to pressure wash the bottom and got most of it ready for the winter, while I directed from a camp chair. 

But here’s the miraculous thing, the biggest high of all:

After the leaks, the wharf-smash, the missed moorings and the lawn lights… I absolutely cannot wait until next summer.

This wasn’t just a sailing season. It was a season of learning, about community and about my own stubborn, hopeful heart. See you in 2026.