Climate skeptics… I’m not afraid of skepticism and I’m calling you out! Defend your position or admit you don’t have one. The time for hiding behind the politics, pundits of Fox News, financial interests, and the general propaganda is over. Saying you’re skeptical is not good enough. Politics and pundits and propaganda… Oh my!

Winning the war of public opinion does not make an idea scientific or unscientific. Science is not a democracy.

There are only 4 fundamental positions available on (human influenced) climate change. Choose honestly and choose wisely:

1. Scientific Agreement. “I’ve looked at the science. I understand the science. After doing so, I find the science to be reasonable AND testable AND verifiable.”
2. Scientific Disagreement. “I’ve looked at the science. I understand the science. After doing so, I find the science to be unreasonable OR untestable OR unverifiable.”
3. Uninformed Agreement. “Enough people I respect or trust say they agree with the science so I’m willing to believe it.”
4. Uninformed Disagreement. “Enough people I respect or trust say they disagree with the science that I don’t believe it.”

Yes, there are nuances. It is quite possible that one has looked at the science and attempts to draw conclusions without understanding the science. Sorry, those people are in either of the “Uninformed” categories until understanding is reached. Only position 2, Scientific Disagreement, qualifies one to claim the position of “Climate Skeptic”. It is useful to engage in conversation on grounds that meet the test of scientific understanding and scientific disagreement.

When either of the uninformed groups talk about climate change, they are simply spreading propaganda. Science does not recognize anecdotal suppositions. Propaganda wars against science have been fought and won in the past. However, the world is not flat. The universe does not orbit the earth. Bloodletting does not cure “The Plague”.

The scientific community overwhelmingly agrees on the science of climate change. It may be true that “some scientists disagree”, but the burden of proof is on those scientists to make their case. Established science stands until a successful attack is made against it. That is the way science works.

What if the climate scientists are wrong and we create a cleaner planet and a better economy for nothing? You tell me.

There’s something about biofuel that grabs attention. Maybe it’s the romantic idea of running our cars on free recycled waste oil from restaurants. Maybe it’s the allure of bending the ecosystem to our will to create fuel from seemingly mundane crops. Maybe it’s as close as we think we’ll personally get to Mr. Fusion from Back to the Future. “Where we’re going, we don’t need roads”.

Unfortunately, biofuels are hardly a solution. With Bloom Energy is set to launch it’s much ballyhooed Bloom Box tomorrow (February 24, 2010), I thought it would be appropriate to put things in perspective. By all accounts, the device is a compact fuel cell. For some reason, people seem to pay attention to its description up to the point where the inventor talks about a device he created for NASA that was to produce oxygen. He recites a line something like, “I already had a device that used power to create oxygen, I figured I’d just turn it around and use oxygen to produce power”. Cute sound-byte. Unfortunately, people seem to glaze over at this point and ignore that it still takes some sort of fuel to actually make the magic happen. The oxygen is a key component, but it ain’t what makes it go.

The recommended fuel is natural gas. Score another one for the fossil fuel camp! They demure a bit and mention it can also run on biofuels and “solar”. Whenever the inventor says “solar” he looks as though he’s swallowed a canary. Fuel cells don’t run on solar. Ever. The solar they’re referring to is surely solar that is used to extract/compress a fuel (most likely hydrogen) to feed back into the fuel cell. While technically possible, this use is absolutely ridiculous. If you’ve already converted solar into electricity, you’d simply use the electricity. Using it to produce fuel that you’d then convert back to electricity is as absurd as it is inefficient. So this leaves us with the biofuel question.

What is the potential of biofuel?

What’s the feasibility of using biofuels to solve our energy needs? Estimates put the near-term energy use of humanity at about 16 TW (terawatts). Knowing this is the amount of energy we need to produce allows us to look at some numbers and come up with a sober conclusion.

The following world map shows the distribution of available carbon neutral energy sources mapped by intensity over locations. It’s important to look at the scale below each. Photosynthesis, the process through which plants capture and store the sun’s energy, is essentially a synonym for biofuels for the purpose of this discussion. Sure, there are some serious technological issues between the plant and your gas tank, but let’s just keep it simple for now. You’ll notice that dark red, the maximum energy production on the map, is only 2 (Watts per square meter) for photosynthesis versus about 300 for solar and 720 for wind.

Power Density Map

There are a couple things to notice about the photosynthesis map above. Most of the action is in the tropics… Places like the Amazon. Make no mistake; much of the potential energy in biofuels requires harvesting and/or destroying complex ecosystems. Another issue is that for every square meter that’s converted to fodder for biofuel, that’s a square meter that cannot be used for food production. The precipitation map is a little more uniform in its distribution. Many of these areas are close to population centers which would make transportation of the energy generated much simpler than pillaging the tropics and distributing the energy potential elsewhere. Solar is quite compelling as far as alignment between potential energy and population centers. This makes sense… People tend to live where it’s warm and places are warm because there’s more solar energy. Wind is exactly the opposite. A huge concentration of potential power is near the poles.

The pretty colors in that map are nice, but the different scales and color distributions make it difficult to quantify the real distribution. The following graph changes that. It represents perhaps the most important information to take away from this article. The data here is the total possible energy available to us if we were somehow able to extract 100% of it. The chart looks a little crazy because one of the power sources dwarfs the others.

Earth's Power Potential

So… solar has huge potential. Its scale tipping 85,000 TW represents more than 5000 times the energy we’d need to power humanity. Not too shabby, eh? Wind isn’t doing to bad at 870 TW either. We could cover our 16 TW requirement many times over with that amount. It’s important to note that we can’t get too greedy here. Converting wind energy into power has side effects… Namely, less wind. At some point, harnessing too much wind energy would impact climate significantly. Here’s where biofuel potential starts to clear up… in a bad way. At 90 TW, there isn’t much headroom if we start using this as a primary fuel source. It’s actually somewhat worse than this because only 65 of the 90 TW is located on land. The remaining 25 is in the ocean… which isn’t practical to harvest at this point. Let me put that another way… We’d have to convert 1/4 of the earth’s entire plant growing potential to growing biofuel to make it our primary energy source. Some experts estimate that we could sustainably utilize only 1/2 of 1 terawatt for biofuel without causing disastrous environmental impact (and largely ignoring the impact on the food supply). At .5 terawatts, we’re only generating 1/32 of our total energy needs. That certainly isn’t a solution.

The following map normalizes the data from the map above. Total available wind energy is used as a reference and the others three maps are their relative potential. As you can see right of the bat, the photosynthesis map looks like an extreme closeup of smurf… its comparative potential doesn’t even register. On my screen, I have to kind of move my head over to an angle to get precipitation (hydroelectric potential) to register some faint blue areas. Again, solar comes up with a nice distribution of power potential across the bulk of populated areas.

Power Density Map in Relation to Wind

The underlying issue with these varying power sources is the amount of land it takes to extract them. Wind farms take up space. Solar panels take up space. Farms take up space. One of the reasons wind and solar fare so much better in their potential is that their densities are much higher. The chart below breaks this down.

Renewable Energy Power Density Comparison Graph

In the chart, we’re assuming that all of these are deployed in areas in which they make sense. We’re only counting wind farms in windy places, solar in sunny places, and photosynthesis in places plants grow well.

So, for every square meter of wind farm, we can potentially produce 1000 Watts of clean power. That’s 500x more power than the maximum biofuel potential. It may in fact be worse. That 2 Watts for wind is the maximum capability. The chart is so skewed that you can’t see the minimum power density is a paltry 1/4 Watt. High performing wind farms will produce about 4000x the energy as a comparable farm growing crops to convert to biofuels. With this perspective, the potential of biofuels is very limited.

Biofuels have a place in our energy mix. However, their diminutive total energy potential only pencils out for use cases in which solar, wind, etc. are physically impossible. Basically… aircraft fuel (and that’s about it). It’s not just limited by “environmentalism”; growing the required crops and converting them to biofuel is limited by practicality and the simple math of lackluster power density running up against a limited and finite number of growing areas. Beware the biofuel hype.

Hey, I guess my mission to explore all of planet earth using only wind, solar, and human power kind of makes sense after all.

References
The Game Plan. A solution framework for the climate challenge. Saul Griffith, 2008

I’ve been reconsidering the mission and route of the expedition lately. My initial plan was just to untie my boat and sail wherever I felt. That morphed into planning and the intent to wrap some sort of purpose around my meanderings. The basic idea was to undertake an adventure that didn’t involve burning fossil fuels of any kind.

Basically, the route has always been in question. I wanted to make it something more comprehensive than a circumnavigation. There’s always been a certain element of trailblazing that I haven’t been able to beat out of my personality. The first thing that came to mind was to make an implied statement of global connection and hit every country on the way. I’m pretty sure nobody’s done that without tons (literally) of jet fuel, so it seemed to make sense.

What’s had me thinking lately is “The Universal Declaration of Human Rights”. First… a quick bit of context.

Universal Declaration of Human Rights

The United Nations officially adopted the declaration on December 10, 1948. 

…THIS UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS as a common standard of achievement for all peoples and all nations, …keeping this Declaration constantly in mind, shall strive… to promote respect for these rights and freedoms [by] progressive measures, national and international, to secure their universal and effective recognition and observance…

And… here are the bits that have been popping into my mind every time I think about the goals of the expedition…

Article 13.

1. Everyone has the right to freedom of movement and residence within the borders of each state.
2. Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country.

Article 15.

1. Everyone has the right to a nationality.
2. No one shall be… denied the right to change his nationality.

Where Is Any of this True?

In the 60+ years since this declaration was passed, we’re not even close to freedom of movement. Freedom of residence feels almost Utopian. And I’m not just singling out whoever the “Axis of Evil” happens to be when you read this. Visa applications, limits, and restrictions are the status quo.

This all has me thinking that maybe checking off a list of countries isn’t really that meaningful. It also has me thinking that dancing around and spending time and resources to arrange travel to every country only serves to reinforce the status quo. If “we” all agreed to work toward a world in which we can travel where we want, why do we just play along? I’m in the mood to opt out.

New Expedition Route [Open Thread]

So… You should leave me your thoughts. It’s fine with me if you want to get political, but I’d love it if you have ideas on alternative expedition routes. Of course, it still has to fit within the restriction of zero fossil fuel burning. I’ve gotten more than a couple emails saying you’re living vicariously trough me… Well… Help me live your vicarious life to the fullest!

Here are a couple of the ideas that may not have been done (I haven’t thoroughly researched them):

• Circumnavigate the globe… the wrong way. No, not left to right instead of right to left. How about north to south? Obviously, you can’t sail through the poles, but there are a circumnavigable routes in that general orientation.
• How about circumnavigate the usual route, but with no sails? I’m thinking a mass of wind turbines in the place of sails coupled with electric propulsion. Lots of fun engineering problems with that one.

I do have another mega-idea that I know hasn’t been done (and more fully encompasses the “all of planet earth” vibe), but I don’t want to give that one away just yet.

Whatchya thinkin’?

After my last post about being more than an accidental activist, I’ve done a bit more research. I hoped to receive some feedback about specific organizations I should work with. Unfortunately, my goal was not achieved. That’s cool though… I wasn’t asking because I couldn’t find enough organizations. I asked because there are 9 zillion organizations and I was just hoping to narrow things down a smidge.

So… Research commenced! Things were learned. Misconceptions were deconcepted. Coffee was consumed. As expected, I found more awesome sounding organizations than I could ever hope to  support. I’m still in research phase and open to suggestions, but I do want to mention three organizations that excited me. But first, an explanation of why they excite me by way of a confession….

I am obsessed with electric propulsion. I am enamored with electricity. My biggest complaint as a five year old was that there were never enough batteries to power the Lego motor that was crucial in animating my creations. After receiving a stiff shock from an improperly grounded appliance, I was tempted to touch it again to feel the electrons force my muscles to vibrate at 60Hz. The electronics class I took in college was the first and only class in which I got 100% on every assignment (my memory may be making that one up, but it feels right).

Electric Boats Cure Cancer

Fast-forward to my entree into sailing. Oh the wind tickling the tiny hairs on your ear. Oh the stupid grin when the bow smashes through a wave sending a chilling salty spray across your face and down your neck. Oh the sound of a 28hp diesel engine drowning out all sanity and the smell of burning dinosaur juice filling the nostrils! Wait… What!? I didn’t sign up for this.

It is a fact that I did not sell most of my earthly possessions, sacrifice a fully appointed kitchen and discard my daily commute to inhale toxic fumes. If I wanted that, I’d shill for Budweiser and zip around paved ovals at 200+ mph. Don’t expect me to be okay with voluntarily mixing smoke with my indulgence of nature. Uh uh cupcake!

As you’ll no doubt understand by now, the first time I heard the combination of ‘electric’ and ‘propulsion’ in the context of sailing was a tingly moment. The only way I can imagine it being any sexier is if it was “electric jet propulsion”. A boy can dream. A boy can dream. Of course, my next step was to consult the oracle of Google and see if this was real. Sure enough, electric propulsion for sailboats is entirely possible. There are multiple companies producing the tidbits and the technologies to make it happen.

Imagine my shock when I tried to open discussions on the matter with other sailors and was met with a wall of resistance. Imagine my eyes rolling when the reasons against it were ‘impractical’, and ‘unfeasible ‘. Imagine my wrinkling brow when diesel engines were hinted at being an important part of the sailing tradition. Um… Methinks otherwise. The other argument tends to be  that, “you have to have something when there’s no wind”. Yes, if you have to get back to the office after the weekend is over, that is a problem. However, the assumption that that’s everyone’s goal is wrong. The assumption that engines are the only solution is wrong as well.

Let’s see… The first singlehanded circumnavigation of the world was started in 1895 and completed in 1898 by Joshua Slocum. For how many millenia had humans been taking to the seas prior to that? Rudolph Diesel completed the world’s first working diesel engine in 1897. My guess is that he didn’t track Captain Slocum down somewhere off the coast of Africa and install this creation on the Spray so the end of his voyage would be practical and feasible.

Diesel engines on boats are a mere blip (blight) on the sailing tradition. Yes, I am downplaying their contribution, but don’t try to tell me they’re a requirement. Engines on boats solved a huge problem… How to get in and out of ports. However, this question is influenced by the addition of engine technology. Ports were constructed in such a way that unpowered entry was easier prior to their widespread use.

I’ll save the rest of the argument for another day. The point is that I’m sold on electric propulsion before we even start discussions about climate change, marine species collapse, and omnipresent human toxins. It’s from within that context that I’m heavily influenced.

Carbon Footprints Are Too Mystical

The first bit of excitement I palpably experienced was my discovery of Saul Griffith’s talk “Climate Change Recalculated” (he also has a short, but not as directly related TED talk “Saul Griffith’s kites tap wind energy“). The paraphrased point is this: Rather than attempting to discuss ethereal concepts like carbon footprints and megatons of CO2, let’s talk about electrical power in terms of Watts.

This concept is pretty intuitive. I can picture a 60W lightbulb or a microwave oven pretty easily. Can you picture a ton of carbon dioxide? Can you wrap your mind around a ton of air in relation to all of the air in the earth’s atmosphere? Since that’s beyond the perception of any of us, let’s have a conversation about things to which we can all relate.

Since most of our carbon emissions come from energy production release, it makes every bit of sense to re-frame the conversation in terms of Watts. Framing the discussion specifically in terms of energy also opens up dialog for discussing issues such as international relations and security in terms of energy dependence. Combining both concern for climate and national security unites (at least on a conceptual level) political factions that typically don’t have any common ground. I’ve had conversations attempting to bring people’s minds closer through this line of argument. It’s still hard for some people to admit agreement, but I’ve gotten to the point where intellectual consensus was reached despite the absence of a kumbaya moment.

Lest you think I’m completely devoid of prior rational inquiry, I’ve long been a believer in talking about climate change in terms of energy. However, I’d never had external confirmation of a movement. I’d certainly never articulated it as well and as thoroughly. For me, this was an important Step 1. Validation of my suspicions and a tightly woven foundation that’s inherently compatible with my project. I have seen the light (I hope you’re not waiting for a joke about it’s equivalent power draw).

The Science Is Only Hard If You Refuse to Look at It.

Saul’s talk also directly lead me to 350.org. I had seen their logo floating around everywhere, but the logo and number gave me absolutely no insight into what it was talking about. It’s one of those unfortunate things where you have to know a little about the science behind it before the impact is unleashed. So, despite the global warming deniers’ silly notions, I’ll give you the science. It’s about fifth grade level stuff, so break out your thinking caps…

350 refers to a 350ppm concentration of CO2 (carbon dioxide) in relation in the earth’s atmosphere (air). Carbon dioxide is a known insulator. CO2 levels correlate to global temperature in a shockingly consistent way as evidenced by the chart below.

As you can see, 350ppm is higher than any of the historical data. However, it is the goal we’re shooting for. That already sounds a little scary. However, we’re currently already at 390ppm… literally off the chart. Expanding awareness and action in order to achieve that goal is what 350.org is all about. I’m a proponent. Incidentally, Saul’s talk gives specific engineering examples of how we can realistically hit that number. It’s not easy, but it’s reasonable and doable.

It’s All About the Ocean.

The third component in my initial round of excitement is Oceana.org. Oceana expands the range of issues by narrowing the focus to ocean related concerns. This obviously hits close to home when your home is a boat. It also hits close to home if you like seafood or recognize that much of the world’s food supply is derived from the sea. Therefore, any decrease in ocean food supplies results in increased competition for other food sources.

The relationship between CO2 and the ocean becomes direct when you discover that much of the carbon in the atmosphere is absorbed by the oceans. This may sound like a good thing, but increases in ocean carbon result in acidification. For some reason, the creatures of the ocean don’t like living in acid. Shocking, I know!

There are several distinct issues undertaken by Oceana. One of the things that interests me the most is that these issues imply myriad other issues and connect with as many others. If you eat seafood, you’d make me super happy by downloading and internalizing their Ocean Friendly Seafood Guide.

So that’s what I’ve been discovering and contemplating lately. Please leave a comment or suggestion. If you don’t have anything in mind at the moment, I officially challenge you to a power usage face-off. That’s right… there was a gauntlet and I threw it down. Here is an adorable pie chart with my numbers at WattzOn.com. There’s a link on the top that allows you to start your own personal power use assessment. Toward the right, there’s a link to get started if you want to challenge me head to head. It would be awesome if we all posted our numbers from that below.

More to come on all of the above…

If you ever want to get close and personal with forced environmentalism, live on a boat. Dealing with garbage, recycling, human waste, and “grey water” becomes an immediate and pervasive challenge. Every time you take something out of a plastic wrapper, you’re forced to make a decision… Am I going to throw this in the water, or pack it around until I can discard it in a better way? In this example, that means you’re stuck carrying around trash. I am of course assuming you follow the “don’t s&#! where you eat” principle, but I don’t think that’s a tricky one to wrap our heads around.

When living in more respectable accommodations, the actual impact of waste disposal is negligible to most people. Your main question is “which magical bin that makes things disappear should I throw this in”. From then on, it’s out of sight out of mind (for most people). Removing the psychological trick of having something magically disappear, and assuming someone else who knows what they’re doing will take care of it, amplifies the drama of everything. For me, it didn’t take long for that to reverberate back up the proverbial food chain. Living on a boat forces you to think about recycling, biodegradability, and packaging materials in a very real way. If you think those ridiculous clear plastic bubble packs that you can’t ever get open without slicing an artery are bad now, wait until you’re forced to stow the 8″ x 10″ blood stained packaging remnants when you’re done removing your postage stamp sized memory card.

I now make buying decisions based on packaging… and I’m not talking about the sexiness of the design. Well… unless you think efficient, low(er)-impact packaging is sexy. If that’s the case, I can only assume I’ll be hearing from you in the comments below.

After You Get Tired of Resisting the Urge to Scream

The question of activism has been bothering me lately. I certainly have no problem taking positions on a vast array of facts, thoughts, concepts, issues, theories, conjectures, hunches, guesses, dogmas, et cetera. I’ve even been known to go out on a limb for inklings. This list is by no means exhaustive. Don’t make me pull out the thesaurus.

As a consummate full-time skeptic and industrious information whore who rejects the term “conspiracy theory” out of disdain for the mere dismissive implication, I’m usually even able to wrap some sort of cohesive reasoning around the positions I take. What’s bothering me is the internalization of ideas. What good is it to be convinced of certain things through thought and study only to check them off as learned or understood? That seems like a waste.

Of Excuses and Rationalizations

I’ll admit, this isn’t really something that just came to me. It’s been brewing for years. In those years, I’ve watched and enjoyed my fair share of documentaries. The first time I heard about the migration of killer bees to North America terrified me as a kid. The first time I heard about the collapse of bee populations in North America terrified me as an adult. I watched the U.S. invasion of Panama on television; not thinking it was anything other than a great thing. I’ve had friends in Panama City explain that I had to watch my step on the sidewalks because the cracks the tanks left 17 years earlier had yet to be repaired. I’ve hear childhood stories of Panamanian friends being trapped in their homes for days in fear of being shot. My mind has been paradigm shifted from the clouds to the mud so many times it would be easy to dismiss this all as intellectual and psychological vertigo… too easy.

The most likely cop-out is that I too easily accepted a predominant cultural bromide: Don’t talk about religion or politics. Those who know me personally know that I rarely follow such formalities advice in even somewhat familiar company. Well my friends… From now on, I’m assuming we’re all familiar company.

That isn’t the half of it though. Frankly, I’ve been turned off by activist stereotypes. As a child who split time growing up in cities and logging towns in the Pacific Northwest, I was no stranger to arguments between tree-hugging liberals and rednecks with “I like my spotted owls fried” bumper stickers. There was always something a little too “true believer” about those high decibel conversations.

I have a hard time engaging in conversations formed around political party lines. When allegiance to a group trumps allegiance to reason, I tune out in a hurry.

Bad Example Du Jour: Global Warming

In this case, the science seems completely irrelevant. Some days we have apparent scientific agreement and on other days we have scandals and allegations of fraud in the scientific community. Then everyone dusts off their Adam Smith and stirs in a touch of Keynes and a dash of Friedman. In the end it seems like we’re making a decision between saving the planet and saving the nation. Really drama queens? That’s what this is about?
I don’t care about the science in this case. Do you need a scientific paper to tell you that your car’s tailpipe emissions are unsavory at best? Do you need congressional consensus to tell you that burning stuff tends to get messy? When matters of common sense are hidden by smoke and mirrors, the conversation is lost. (yeah, bad cliche timing)

Competing ‘Isms’

There’s nothing bad about a good ‘ism’. I’m fond of many of them. I understand and respect many I’m not fond of. However, activism has at times appeared to be the battlefront for the competition of isms. That sounds like what I was saying earlier about the irrational political delineation of issues, but I’ve moved on. I’m now referring to the perceived one-upmanship by factions who agree with one another. Why should socialists be turned off by feminism in veganism?

I have no stomach for those games. Sometimes there’s truth in the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Activism is so often a whisper in the face of an apparent monolith that it just doesn’t make sense.

Enough Whining. Let’s Destroy Some Entrenched Constructs

Perhaps all of the above negativity wasn’t necessary. It is totally irrelevant from the standpoint that I no longer feel like allowing myself to be subjugated by the cultural pressures repressing activism itself. However, I think there are a lot of people out there who are alienated from the process because of stereotypes. It makes no difference whether or not the stereotypes are accurate. The fact that they exist needs to be recognized.

So that brings us to the “What’s next?” part of the conversation. My next step is to figure out where to focus my efforts and which organizations to align with. I have some in mind, but assume I am starting from scratch. I don’t want to miss anything. If no organizations fit the bill, then we’ll reevaluate the situation.

You probably already have a rough idea that I’m in the process of putting together an expedition to explore all of planet earth using only wind, solar, and human power. To be more accurate, the goal is to accomplish the task without burning any fuel. If you can a hull out of ginormous peltier panels that generates enough electricity for supplementary electric propulsion, we can talk about that too.

For whatever reason, this blog gets a lot more traffic than the comments reflect. I know there are a lot of you lurking out there. I love you all. If you are reading this, please recommend an organization (or ten) or cause or thought in the comments below. If you’re too shy for that, I’d love for you to contact me privately.

Related Causes I’m Attracted To

Buzzwords

• Green
• Sustainability
• Alternative Energy

Environmental

• Water Issues
  • Ocean
  • Lakes
  • Rivers
  • Food supply
• Land Issues
  • Trail Use
  • All the other ones

Energy

• Wind
• Solar
  • Photovoltaic
  • Passive
• Human
  • Direct
  • Electricity Generation
• Peltier/Seebeck
• Magic?

If you know of a cause or an organization that might tie into what I’m doing in a less obvious way, please share. Human rights, civil liberties, international law, farming (genetic implications, sustainability, legal/patent issues). It might be hard to sell me on veganism/vegetarianism categorically or morally. However, I can easily take positions against things like chicken growing practices, shark finning (though I am semi-afraid of being ironically killed by a shark), sustainable fishing practices, et cetera.

If you are involved with an organization that may make sense, I’m open to your self-promotion (in this thread at least).

My main motivation in asking for recommendations is that there is a lot of potential to influence decisions I’m faced with in putting this expedition together. As one tiny but significant example, I need to build or purchase another boat to pull this off. If there is an environmental advantage to building a boat with aluminum versus fiberglass or carbon fiber or steel, there is opportunity to educate me. Also, it isn’t something like… If you tell me I should definitely only use aluminum construction, then I expect you to give me an aluminum boat. But I will weigh the research against my needs and make an informed decision. I do my best to research these things, but my awareness is limited to the information I happen to find. Increase my awareness and I’ll have an opportunity to increase it more.

There are two similar, but distinct ways I’m thinking about this… As mentioned in the example above, there are the resources I deploy and expend. My decisions and actions are open to input. The other, more accessible path, is the awareness of things I think are important that I’ll be able to spread through this website and the exposure surrounding the adventure. How long do you really think a marketing guy is going to keep this whole thing a relative secret?

So that’s that. I’m out of the activist closet. Let’s put Utopia on the timeline and get to work.

For those of you not completely up to speed, I’m in need of a new boat. Needing a new boat also means I’m in need of some serious cash to invest in a boat. At the moment I’m leaning toward a catamaran. The price range for a modest cat is in the $100,000 to $250,000 range. Well… According to the ATM display, I’m a little short. Therefore, I need a way to round up some funds. Lately I’ve been looking into the potential of bringing some sponsors into the mix.

Steve & Winnebiko II

Due to the holidays and, other commitments, and because I just felt like it… I’ve been spending some time away from the boat. Part of my land-based excursion lead me to spend a couple weeks in Seattle. Since I was in the vicinity of someone who has a wealth of knowledge in getting sponsors for projects, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet up with Steve Roberts.

FTC Required Disclosure: I purchased the book that’s sort of reviewed below (Reaching Escape Velocity: Launching gonzo engineering projects with sponsors, media, volunteers, and other potent forces) with my own money at the publicly advertised price. I found the contents to be so useful that I went to hang out with the author at his lab for a few hours at my first opportunity. He’s a pretty funny and interesting guy. Because he signs his emails with ‘Steve’ and because I’ve met him in person, I refer to him below as ‘Steve’. No non-SAG-member animals appear in this film and no celebrities were harmed in the process. Always wear protective eyewear. Please drink responsibly.

Everybody seems to want a spot on the geek bandwagon. After enduring pocket protector jokes for untold millennia, the geek-nerd continuum is at the epicenter of nouveau sexiness. It’s pretty easy to take baby steps down the path. A common first move is to install WordPress on your LAMP. After some tweaking and googling and a little luck, you’ll be shining the light of arcane acronym dissemination in less than a fortnight. However, the moment you start flexing your new-found vocabulary in front of higher tier geeks, you’ll quickly realize the rift between being conversational in geek and fully understanding the language.

Nomadness

If you want to get serious about applied geekery, might I recommend dispensing with formalities and the protracted learning curves advocated by the sane and the cautious? If you’re ready to jump off the deep end, proceed directly to the work of Stephen K. Roberts. His projects are so detailed that it’s hard to know where to begin explaining them. He was computerizing bicycles with internet connections and cellular phones with price tags upwards of $1.2 million in the 80’s (then put 17,000+ miles on them). He built a pedal hybrid ocean-going trimaran in the 90’s. He’s currently tricking out a 44′ sailboat with at least 3 on-board computers, 15 Arduino embedded microcontrollers, something like 450 data collection points, and a recording studio! He may also have mentioned something about having a MakerBot aboard too.

The travel / adventure / lifestyle design world has no shortage of information aimed at helping you break free from mundanity. A large volume of this is simply recycled platitudes aimed more at helping whoever is selling the information to escape their own boredom. With diligence however, a wealth of information resides just under the surface. I’ve explored enough of it to develop a pretty thick wall of skepticism. I don’t offer praise easily. Yet somehow, within about five minutes of finding Steve’s site, I was compelled to email him to learn more.

There are quite a few books out there about sports sponsorships. There are areas that overlap with my world somewhat, but they’re not built for your path to technology driven geek-o-rific nomadism. Steve’s book is about projects that fall more into the realm of full-fledged expeditions than getting your surfing trips paid for. And… not just expeditions requiring an airline ticket, pair of running shoes, and a tube of sunscreen.  We’re talking about expeditions impossible without serious gear and technology with price tags in the five plus figure range. This is what launches “Reaching Escape Velocity” into uber-geek territory. If you have aspirations of pulling off a serious project that may at first blush seem insane and financially prohibitive, you need this book.

Microship

At 73 pages, the book isn’t riddled with minutiae or padded with fluff. It’s simply packed with the information that will nag at your core until you’ve either experienced your own period of trial and error, or learned from someone who’s put together successful projects… repeatedly. Some of the topics covered are: the dynamics of getting cash vs. equipment; the appropriate amount of energy to devote to media exposure; how to approach potential sponsors with a pitch that’s more compelling than an open hand; leveraging the experience into the world of academia; the potential for consulting and speaking revenue; other potential sources of related income; and… other details from more than two decades of experience.

If you’re looking for a way to fund a geekworthy engineering project, you need Steve’s book (Reaching Escape Velocity). I highly encourage you to check out his sites too. In addition to the huge amount of information he provides for free, he also has a store set up to help you along your path to geek nirvana (you’re not going to find the cool toys at Wal Mart). Did I mention he’s on Twitter (@nomadness)?

My project and expedition still requires a lot of resources to bring it to the ultimate level. I’ll be writing more about funding the adventure in upcoming articles. Much of my strategy going forward will be informed by Steve’s book and knowledge in general.

Thanks Steve! (A San Juan sailing geeks flotilla is still on my mind)

As a location decentric geo-neutral lifestyle constructing nomad time-exempt techno shama-lama-ding-dong slayer of all things that start with ‘cube’, you’ve probably had the disconcerting feeling of waking up and being freaked out for the few moments until your pupils catch up with your eyelids and your mind catches up with your GPS tracking system. If that lag time ever gets too long, refer back to this post. No, it’s not going to help if you’re covered in honey in the middle of a scorched expanse of sand with a column of ants approaching, but it will tell you whether or not you have ditched your landlubber lifestyle and now live on a boat. (a list of my faves compiled from the interwebs)

1. Sleeping in a house makes you feel claustrophobic because there isn’t a hatch overhead to look at the stars.
2. You know smaller is actually sometimes better.
3. You find yourself bleeding from random places at random times.
4. You and your girlfriend define “taking a break” as moving about six feet apart and looking in opposite directions.
5. You avoid telling people you live on a boat just so you don’t have to explain to them how you shower… again.
6. You are obsessed with the humidity…indoors.
7. You think butter only comes soft
8. All of your pots have removable handles.
9. When invited to dinner at someone’s house you ask if you can have a shower.
10. When invited to dinner at someone’s house you ask if you can do your laundry.
11. The doctor assumes your body covered in random bruises is a sign of physical abuse.
12. You are the only one who doesn’t want to win the big screen TV at the charity raffle.
13. You think CSI is some sort of yacht club racing acronym.
14. Kids think you’re the coolest person on earth.
15. When you don’t like the neighborhood you just untie and move.
16. You are content knowing that sailing is code for boat repair in exotic places.
17. You can assemble a gourmet dinner using only one pot and a spork.
18. Doing laundry involves a net bag, a moving boat, and 50 feet of line.
19. You have to put up an umbrella inside.
20. When asked for a piece of scratch paper, you hand them 80 grit.
21. You truly don’t want anything for Chistmas that doesn’t come in PDF form or install on a Kindle.
22. You only get seasick on land.
23. Cardboard boxes, wrappers, and packing foam are thrown away before anything goes to the boat.
24. You define a good anchorage as one where you can get WiFi.
25. A fifteen minute job always takes and hour and a half since you have to pull everything out of all the storage lockers to find the right part, then the right tool, then put it all back.
26. Your wallet contains more boat cards than business cards
27. You know what a boat card is.
28. When visiting ashore, you wake everbody at daylight screaming “We’re Aground”when you open your eyes and see trees.
29. You define an easy chore as one where you only had to pull out 3 tool bags.
30. You covet new solar panels more than a new car.
31. You can identify boats by the sound of their halyard slapping against their mast.
32. Removing things from the refrigerator is like playing Jenga.
33. You gave up high heels for flipflops
34. You’ve accidently put your life jacket on in a grocery store parking lot out of habit.
35. You walk in the rain all the way back to your boat, carrying a backpack, a load of laundry,  groceries destined to fall out of their bag at any second… all while thinking how lucky you are.
36. Filling the water tanks is a full day’s work.
37. The only thing you do religiously on Sundays is wonder what day it is.
38. The first thing you do after setting the hook is check to see who you know in the anchorage.
39. Cutting the grass means diving over the side.
40. You find a sea otter lounging in your cockpit when you get home.
41. You think the roof leaking a little is no big deal.
42. You wonder why it’s always low tide when taking stuff on or off the boat.
43. A warm rum and coke won’t turn your stomach.
44. When you try to sleep on land you find you can only sleep in hammock after rocking it.
45. You understand and pay attention to the entire weather forecast.
46. You spend weekends sitting in your cockpit with a boat hook beside you, waiting to fend off the next rental boat operator.
47. You can heat your home with a Bic lighter.
48. Every time you consider buying something the main consideration is what you’ll have to get rid of to make room for it.
49. When visiting ashore you catch yourself pumping the handle on a faucet.
50. You consider a three minute shower luxurious
51. You covet your neighbor’s oven more than his wife.
52. You measure the length of a shower in terms of quarters
53. You know consider a freezer the ultimate luxury.
54. You have to strap a bag full of water to your boom & wait a few hours before you can take a shower.
55. You’ve sincerely wondered if there are any companies that make triangular bed sheets.
56. You know that styrofoam was invented by satan, duct tape by God.
57. When trying to register a new bank account or anything to do with government, their computer won’t accept the fact that you don’t have a residental address.
58. All of your neighbors have your cellphone number, but only call when they want a weather report or for you to check on their boat.
59. You realize previously asinine Jimmy Buffet songs have started to carry a deep philosophical significance.
60. You only bring out the clear plastic Dixie cups for fancy occasions.
61. You visit a friend’s house and worry that everything on the shelves will come crashing down when the boat heels.
62. Getting the “heat” question for the 1,000th time drives you mad.
63. Trying to find someone to sail away with you isn’t being romantic, it’s practical.
64. Your first iPhone app was the Weather Channel.
65. Your second was Tides app.
66. Your homepage is the NOAA National Weather Service
67. You’ve spent mornings standing in your underwear on the deck of someone else’s boat, adjusting halyards, lashing lines & freezing your ass off.
68. You have given up trying to defend your lifestyle and are content with smugly thinking…..they don’t have a clue what they are missing.
69. You have a clue what any of this means.

Have any to add… any favorites from this list?

For my quest to explore more of planet earth than anyone in history using only human, wind, and solar power to be successful, I need a variety of skills. My chosen methods of transportation are sailing, mountain biking, kayaking, and… well… by foot. Since I’m not a fan of being dead, it’s in my best interest to get as good as possible in all of these disciplines. My target is the lower end of the expert level in each. I got an early start on mountain biking, so that’s the least of my worries. I have some sailing experience under my belt by now. Sure, it’s never enough, but I’ve found the learning curve favorable. The skill I thought would be the easiest to pick up has surprised me in its deceptive difficulty.

The gap in skill required between flatwater kayaking and open-ocean kayaking feels gargantuan. Get yourself a nice day on a lake with low wind, a boat and the supporting gear, and you’re good to go on day one. Sure, things will feel a little awkward at first. Your paddling technique will need work. Balancing will be disconcerting for a few minutes. But the timeframe from zero to feeling pretty good about things and having fun can be measured in minutes or hours. I don’t recommend that you do this with zero knowledge and zero support, but it can be done. I’ve witnessed other people go through it. I read some technical and tactical information before giving it a go, but baptism by fire is basically how I got started.

I’m essentially a do-it-yourself kind of guy. If I had a therapist, she would probably trace it back to the Lego-rich culture in which I was raised. From my parents’ stereo equipment to sailing to reading anything non-fiction, my habit is to disassemble everything and see how it goes backs together. We can blame Derrida or tiny plastic figures with cylindrical yellow heads, but my penchant for understanding the pieces and the system simply is.

Before I paddled on the ocean for the first time, I did a little due diligence. I spent time in calm waters practicing paddling strokes and braces. I spent time at the gym performing self-developed balance workouts designed to mimic the torso rotation of paddling while my hips and legs were doing something completely different. I put triple-digit miles on the boat. I got to the point where I’d grin when the wind whipped up on lakes giving me the possibility of smashing the bow through some waves. My confidence was rising. I felt competent at least. I’d read magazines and seen pictures of what appeared to be friends of my grandmother out paddling around in the ocean with their fluorescent colored drysuits and having an apparently grand time doing so. Surely a relative whipper-snapper like myself could DIY his way to expertise.

Another typical day on the ironically named 'Pacific' Ocean.

About three seconds after crossing the river bar and officially entering to the Pacific Ocean, I was back to square negative one. Whole… New… Ballgame. Unlike the rivers, the current wasn’t flowing in a visibly obvious and predictable direction. Unlike the lakes, the waves weren’t all lined up in parallel at regular intervals. The submerged rocks that revealed their jagged silhouettes only to be plunged beneath the surface and rendered completely undetectable seconds later was a new phenomena. Should I turn left and line up with the surfers and have my 16′ by 23″ boat take a curling a 6′ wave on the beam? Do I turn right into a scene of agitated seas churning and foaming around volcanic rocks playing hide-and-seek? Maybe I’ll go straight and play chicken with fishing vessels that appear momentarily while I’m at the top of a swell then disappear from the face of the planet when I’m in the trough? What’s worse… that I can’t see them or that they can’t see me? Have they ever even seen a kayaker in these waters before to know to watch for one? I certainly haven’t. And now I’m starting to see why!

The indicator of complete paradigm shift is that these waters are familiar to me. I’ve been sailing here for over a year. I know to expect swells. I know that wind waves are another beast altogether. I know there will be fishing boats all over the place. I probably know some of the skippers piloting them. The first time I hit the ocean in a kayak, none of this experience did me any good. To be perfectly honest, I probably would have had a panic attack if I didn’t know what I knew, but knowing what to expect wasn’t enough to grant me the skills to deal with all of the variables. For the first time, I was faced with the decision to paddle the easy route straight into the swells until I ran into another continent, or turn around. I realized very quickly that at some point I would have to turn parallel to the six foot waves rolling my way in order to even get out of the situation.

I didn’t even know what to look at. Watching the surface of the waves moving in every conceivable direction virtually destroyed all sense of balance. Watching the horizon seemed to return my equilibrium, but felt so unnatural that I couldn’t force myself to take my eyes off the waves. For the first time in a long time, I was not feeling joy from the cockpit of my kayak.

Since that day, I’ve been on the ocean a few times. Each as lasted a little longer and has felt a little more comfortable. However, at this rate, I’m not going to reach competency before I’m 100. That’s going to make the goal of expert difficult to achieve before age 150. Reinventing the wheel has never seemed like a good strategy. Learning from the mistakes and triumphs of others is much more efficient… and prudent.

Someone yesterday commented on an article I’d written inferring that I was one of those types who exercises arrogance by refusing to read manuals at any cost. To be fair, I had missed an important step that caused me hours of frustration. My philosophy is far from refusing to read manuals. When it comes to most things, I try to take them as far as I can on my own. When I can’t figure out the right combination of buttons, I read the manual. I find value in trying to figure things out. With kayaking, I’m to the point at which pressing the buttons is not getting the result I want. I can keep banging my head against the wall hoping for a breakthrough, or I can read the manual. Since not getting the thing to work right potentially ends up with a dead Andrew, I shall humble myself and get some schoolin’.

After a bunch of research online and conversations with people I respect in the industry, I may have found the perfect option. The Kayak Academy in the Seattle, Washington area garners rave-reviews by all accounts. It’s rare to come across such unanimous praise, but when I do, I have to see what it’s all about. It’s billed as “The elite school for kayakers since 1991″. The roster of instructors includes George Gronsenth, Barbara Sherrill, Bob Burnett, and Dubside.

So if you start to miss me next week, it’s be cause I’ll be upside-down, trying not to inhale water at their Five Day Kayak Training Camp. I’m really excited to get some learnin’ from the experts. Of course, I’ll report back with details as soon as possible. If you’re interested in the results, you can stay up to date by subscribing (totally free) or following along on Twitter @sailtotrail…

P.S. I <3 Seattle. Seriously.

That’s not my boat pictured. Pretty though!

There are two questions I’m often asked in reference to living aboard that are closely related. 1) How do you cook onboard? 2) What does living onboard cause you to miss the most?

Cooking on my current boat is a pain. Thus, cooking is one of the things I miss the most. In fact, it rarely happens onboard anymore. When I bought my 25′ boat, I had all sorts of overly romanticized ideas about what life would be like and the adventures I’d undertake. It was obvious that the preparation of food was going to be one of the biggest challenges. However, I was determined to make it work. I took meticulous measurements of spaces. I planned modifications. I carefully selected compact and multi-purpose items to fit in their allocated spaces. I thought I had it down.

It should be noted that the only pre-existing galley “equipment” was a 9″ x 12″ sink molded into the fiberglass countertop with a single, hand-pumped spout, and a 2-burner alcohol burning stove that fit perfectly into one of the drawers. In fact, the stove was standard equipment from the factory and the drawer was built to fit that particular model. It was upon this foundation I would be tasked with building my culinary arsenal.

The arsenal eventually included a teeny-tiny mini-fridge. I believe it is approximately a 24″ cube. The freezer section is so tiny that a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream won’t even fit if wedged on its side. This has the unfortunate results of forcing the avoidance of ice cream, or eating an entire pint in one session. Mmm… Love handles. The thing to do is partially melt the contents and transfer it into a resealable, Ziploc® style bag. That’s something I would have never considered prior to living aboard. The other unfortunate feature of these mini fridges is the freezer compartment is really nothing but a shelf that’s frozen. This results in the surface of the item inside to freeze on the bottom, but often remain smushy on the top and/or sides. To combat this, you can enter into a futile dance with the automatic temperature adjustment. This will inevitably fail. You see, there is no thermal insulation of any kind on the frozen shelf. It’s just as cold on the outside surface as the inside. If you turn the temperature down far enough to freeze the contents of the freezer, you will return to exploding cans of soda, lumpy juice, and an assortment of fluids with a thin coat of ice perfectly formed across the top so you are merely taunted by the liquid visible through the crystallized window of water.

Because of the space limitations, the business end of cooking included only a toaster oven and a hot plate. These were flanked by a single non-stick omelet style pan, and a pressure cooker that doubles as a saucepan without the lid.

I read up on tips for living aboard for at least a month before actually spending my first night on the boat. One thing that seemed near universal was the absolute requirement and absolute genius of pressure cookers. They’re faster because they generate a higher internal temperature due to pressure. They’re more efficient with fuel because much less heat escapes during cooking. They’re more efficient with water because less of that escapes during cooking as well. I used my shiny new, supposed cure-all pressure cooker exactly once. Exactly one time was exactly how long it took to learn that the pressure cooker pan did not fit in the sink. It wasn’t even close. It doesn’t go more than a third of the way in the sink if it’s sideways. At one third insertion, it nearly fills the sink from side to side anyway, effectively preventing a hand from getting in there to wash anything. Pressure cooker = portable storage compartment with an unfortunate handle. Oh, it also spends quite a bit of time as a base to elevate an electric space heater.

The toaster oven and hot plate saw a lot of use. The toaster oven outpaced the hot plate by large margins. The first thing I discovered that increased its use was that Pyrex makes a few sizes of glass casserole dishes. They’re made of some sort of super-glass that doesn’t seem to mind being dropped as much as regular glass. It helps that most landings surfaces are fiberglass rather than more unforgiving surfaces found in kitchens. The beauty of these dishes is really their triple use. They work great for cooking, serving, and storing. Since I don’t have to worry about anyone raiding my refrigerator, i don’t feel at all bad about baking enchiladas in the dish, eating two, slapping the lid on it, putting it in the fridge, grabbing it later, putting it back in the oven, and eating the other two enchiladas. In my days in the luxury of well equipped kitchens, that full trip would have resulted in probably 10 separate dishes that would eventually end up in the dishwasher. Not on the boat! Washing dishes is HELL! Did I mention the headroom over the sink is about 8″ shorter than me? There’s no way to spin back pain caused by washing dishes into something interesting.

My loathing of washing dishes by hand in height appropriates spaces is severe. The tight space concentrated my disgust until I came up with another breakthrough. I’ll warn you, it will grate against the nerves of anyone with any passion for conservation. It certainly did a number on mine… for a while. I gave in and eventually embraced my new favorite thing: foil. I had only previously used foil as a mechanism for covering food for storage. Foil is so much more! Foil can be shaped in amazing ways. One of the miracles of science that intrigued me most as a kid was the perfectly round, and precisely sized egg on a McDonald’s egg McMuffin. I was gifted a set of egg rings for a previous kitchen and they were my favorite single-use kitchen gear of all time. On a boat, those are luxuries requiring both space and washing.

Not in my galley! Foil is all things to all tasks. Picture this, you have a bagel, or an irregularly shaped loaf of bread upon which an egg would be perfect. Sure, you can cook ‘em up separately. Scramble them and a few will flop out. Fry them and you’ll have points of varying egg thickness. To that I say bah! Think inside-out. Lay a piece of foil on the counter. Place the hunk of bread goodness in the center, and mold the foil around it. Leave about half an inch vertically up the side of the bread, then fold the rest down and scrunch it all up. Remove the bread and voila! Perfect egg mold for a perfect egg sandwich thingy. Slap some butter or cooking spray or oil in there, drop an egg or two in and toss that baby in the toaster oven. Minutes later you’ll have a perfectly cooked layer of egg. Once you get to an advanced level of multi-purpose awareness, you’ll realize that your bagel will fit in the toaster oven at the same time for dual cooking action. When you pop both of them both out, turn the egg over and watch it flop out and align with every edge of your bread. Add some cheese and maybe a meat of some sort. At this point you may be tempted to wad up the foil and throw it away. This instinct must be resisted. What you would be doing is throwing away your egg sandwich holding device. So, put your sandwich thingy back in the foil, and wrap the edges up around your sandwich. Once you’ve eaten it and marveled at the lack of floppy scrambled eggs and dripping cheese, THEN you may wad up the foil, throw it away, and walk away without washing a single dish… all the while knowing that you’re only destroying the planet to do it.

At some point you may find that you’ve crushed your love for the environment. This streak of destruction may be limited to the confines of your boat’s galley, but I suggest embracing it within these confines. What you’ll want to do next is visit a grocery store and trade about $5 for about a month’s worth of “disposable” plastic knives, forks, and spoons. Sure, in time you will discover that even in your new-found cocoon of wastefulness, a small degree of conservation will creep back in. This is only because it seems that you can only by plastic knives in the triple combo packs. Forks and spoons can often be purchased separately. Word of the wise… watch your knife consumption.

Another curiosity that can be turned into a tip is what I call the “cups are also bowls, but bowls are not also cups” paradigm. Yes, once you’ve expanded your disposable selection beyond merely utensils, you’ll want to stock up on plastic cups. If you’re lucky enough to have a microwave on board, you’ll apply the “cups are bowls” principle by emptying cans of soup or baked beans into plastic cups and popping them into the microwave. Always apply the cooking dish + serving dish combination principle. Pans and separate bowls are a recipe for spending your life with a tweaked neck and dislodged vertebrae.

If your earth-loving conscience rears its ugly head, try this. Rather than disposing of plastic forks, slip them in the fridge packed right in with whatever leftovers you may have. Just remember one thing. Upon reheating, the microwave is your friend and the toaster oven is not where stashed plastic utensils are concerned. Then again, if you’re microwaving foil to avoid putting a plastic spoon in the oven, you have problems beyond my assistance.

I’m half-serious and half-joking about the disposable items mentioned above. If I catch you throwing those things overboard, I’ll slap you. Also, my cooking situation is severely limited on the current boat. When in port, I avoid cooking onboard as much as possible. There are plenty of boats out there that have galleys more well equipped than any of my kitchens ever were. Then again, Adding the 20′ of boat required to get the space for such things uses an amount of fiberglass equivalent to an awful lot of plastic spoons.

The food preparation issue is one huge reason I’m forcing myself to get a bigger (more well equipped) boat before shoving off for good. I completely glossed over the difficulty of securing toaster ovens and hot plates for sailing. It’s a major chore to prevent things from becoming airborne under sail. The frustration of having to move a hundred things to get to one thing drives me batty. While this is a problem in many boats, it is certainly relative to storage and design.

Most of the above isn’t possible while cruising. A big fat yellow power cord at the dock makes things easy. Without that, power demands are much more serious. I have posts more applicable to cruising in the pipeline… life without refrigeration and the ins and outs of propane immediately jump to mind.

I <3 foil.

How did you learn to sail? How can I learn to sail? Variations of this question are one I’m most frequently asked. There are many answers and many paths. I’ll share how I got started. I almost typed “how I did it”, but I’m not done learning. Drum roll…

Buy a boat. The first actual step I took toward learning to sail was buying a boat. I didn’t know anyone who sailed. I didn’t know anyone who lived on a boat. I didn’t know anyone who owned a sailboat. With that in mind, I did what I’ve been known to do with life-altering decisions. Act first, figure it out later.

It’s worth noting that I’d done quite a bit of mental preparation in advance. I’d decided I wanted to live on a boat when I was about four. As a kid in Seattle, I couldn’t help but be drawn into the allure. So I was hooked before I knew any different. After spending some years growing up away from Seattle, I returned for college. It didn’t take me long to make my way down to Elliot Bay Marina from my studio apartment in Magnolia. There’s something either humbling or insane about staying up late at night trying to figure out how to come up with $70,000+ for a sailboat when your apartment is furnished with an air mattress and a guitar amp and your diet consists primarily of rice. Eventually, I managed to temporarily quash the desire for life above liquid.

In February of 2008, I was totally unattached. When I say totally I mean it. Homeless, jobless, relationship-less, car-less. I’ve told snippets of that here before, so I’ll skip the details for the moment. Naturally, finding myself in a unique position, I secretly started looking at boats online. To further commit myself, I bought some non-inexpensive books on the nuts and bolts of sailing skills and the nuts and bolts of boats and boat systems. I had a few bucks in the bank, but not nearly enough to buy the kind of boat any reasonable person would buy with the intent to sail it for more than an afternoon. It didn’t matter, I did what the clinically insane are prone to do… convince myself that I could sail a 25′ boat, built in 1967, around the world. That’s a bit strong actually. I merely convinced myself that I could at least sail around the coasts of the Americas. Yes, all of them. When I went to look at the boat, the guy selling it did me the disservice of taking me out for about a 30 minute sail. My suspicions were confirmed and it was a struggle to keep a poker face through the urge to grin in order to avoid paying more for the boat than what he was asking. In any case, show’s over. I had to do it. The reaction of the cute bank teller when I told her the cashier’s check was for a sailboat prevented buyer’s remorse from even beginning to form.

The first week I spent on the boat was spent trying to answer the “how to learn to sail” question for myself. I read my sailing books. I stressed out. I made up excuses about the boat being incapacitated whenever anyone asked why I wasn’t going sailing on beautiful days. I don’t remember the exact circumstances, but the answer did finally come to me.

The yacht club. As it turned out, the tiny town in which the boat was moored had a yacht club. The important part was that they offer a free sailing class every spring. That proved to be the turning point.

Have you ever been invited to, or actually gone to, those free trips to Vegas things? You know, the ones where they offer you a free trip with the one stipulation that you have to sit through their sales pitch. Well, the yacht club was much more subtle in their cult-like psychological manipulation, but the free sailing classes are the free trip to Vegas. Their whole point is to get you to plunk down cash for membership afterward. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mind. It was pretty much a foregone conclusion.

Perhaps some of you reading this are members of the San Diego Yacht Club or some other extravagant facility with elaborate requirements for membership. Before I thank you for setting a stereotype that people love to fling at me when I tell them I’m a member of a yacht club, I’ll give you permission to exclude this yacht club from your definition of yacht club if you must. I’ve never seen anyone here in one of those ridiculous white hats. They never made sense to me anyway. I always get the image of Mr. Howell and The Skipper mixed up into one person. Oh well, I’ve always seen myself more as The Professor anyway. So… If the millionaire yacht owning set don’t conduct sailing classes as thinly veiled indoctrination of wanna be sailors to enrich the club’s fortunes, I’m okay with that. Oh, and thank you for being the source of the stereotype of country club without the golf.

If there’s a yacht club in your vicinity and you want to learn to sail, contact them to see what’s available. Sailors, while competitive, are one of the most helpful groups of people I’ve come across. Even if the club itself is restrictive, there will be people there excited about anyone who’s interested in sailing. If you already have a boat, it’s even easier to get them to warm up.

If there’s no yacht club, read the books. You can learn a lot from the books. You can learn enough from sailing books to start sailing without instruction. It will probably be a little tricky at first, but it’s possible.

After reading the books and taking the classes through the club (they were almost exclusively theoretical/lecture type classes), my next step was… terror.

If I hadn’t spent a few decades convincing myself that I loved to sail before I got out in a 24′ boat in 12′ swells, I’d have sold the boat in a hurry. I’d been on the water a few times in mild conditions and life was grand. Apparently, the ocean isn’t like it is in the happy-fun-time sailing movies. Sailing isn’t like it is in the happy-fun-time movies. I started sailing on the Pacific Coast of Oregon. The stretch of coast that’s referred to as “the graveyard of the Pacific”. Maybe you’re aware of this, but there is no such thing as a happy-fun-time graveyard movie. There are people reading this who will sigh and tell you stories about how they’ve braved seas the size of Everest without batting an eye. Congratulations to them or their storytelling prowess. I’m not writing this for them. I’m writing this for new recruits.

Another thing that was less than fun to realize is that sailing rarely involves anything horizontal. The boat is typically heeled over significantly to one side or the other. I know a few things about physics so this shouldn’t have been any surprise, but I guess it never registered.

There’s only one reason I’m talking about the negatives at all. Like almost everything, our enjoyment of something largely depends on our expectations matching up with reality. If you think sailing is all cocktails and bikinis, you might not like it without an adjustment in your expectations. For me, sailing is like learning to drink wine and learning to drink beer. If I hadn’t decided that I wanted to acquire a taste for them prior to tasting them, I wouldn’t have lasted long.

Who knows. Maybe you live in Miami and the water is warm and flat as far as the eye can see. I wish I’d been able to get the basic skills down in a calmer area. There are great days here, they’re just harder to catch than in some places.

Now that I’ve said all that… There seems to be a general idea that sailing is super difficult to learn. I disagree. I was in love with trimming sails the first time I tried it. There are nuances of course, but learning the basics isn’t some sort of secret knowledge. I recently stumbled upon a couple who’s circumnavigating. Before they bought their boat and sailed away, they had something like TWO DAYS of on the water sailing. They left from Florida and are now a couple months northwest of New Zealand. It can be done. Do it.

Where am I in my quest for master seamanship? Progressing. I’m to the point that if I had a boat I felt I could rely upon, I’d feel good about sailing anywhere within reason. I’d be obsessive about watching the weather, but I’d feel good about it. I haven’t reached any sort of mastery and really still consider myself a novice. I’ve learned enough to be able to learn more.

If I haven’t answered the original question for you by now, let me sum it up. If you can’t get out on the water with someone who knows what they’re doing, read as much as you can. If you don’t have access to the books, find someone and get out on the water. If you’ve already decided that you want to sail, just buy a boat. You’ll figure it out. Seriously.