Sailing

At Anchor off Powell Cay, Bahamas

Video from my solo sailing journey, which began in Norfolk, Virgina, USA in late November 2022.

**So, did I go where I had planned to go?**

The short answer to that is, “Yes, where it’s warm…both water and air.” I’m not being a smartass. I really didn’t know exactly where I would end up. Yes, I had intentions, but I have learned from past experience that it is best to let people know where I am going after I arrive. Have you ever told someone what you were planning, then changed your mind for whatever reason, and then been criticized for not doing what you initially said you were going to do? If so, now you understand.

I ended up loving an uninhabited island in the Abacos of the Bahamas. Powell Cay as a destination was totally unexpected and completely unplanned. I felt called to go there one day in March 2023 as I approached it.

I departed from Norfolk, VA, on November 28, 2023, and headed south to West Palm Beach, Florida. Some of the treks were in the ICWW (the Ditch), and some of the treks were in the Ocean. I got sick of the Ditch by the time I arrived in the Charleston, SC area. From then on, I went out into the Atlantic in four separate passages to West Palm Beach.

After that, I spent two months in the Bahamas. From the Bahamas, I skipped South Florida and headed straight to St. Augustine, Florida.

I sold the Longtail in June 2023. That’s another story for another time. In short, I felt a “call” from within myself to let her go. At the time, I didn’t understand why.

Now, as I write this in August 2025, I understand fully. Back in November 2024, I was diagnosed with a malignant tumor on my pancreas. Yep, Pancreatic Cancer. It has been quite the battle with chemotherapy, surgery, radiation, and now more chemo as I write this.

A seagull flying over the ocean with its wings spread wide.

A seagull flying over a body of water with a sailboat in the background, blurred landscape coastline on the horizon.

Sunset over a calm ocean with scattered clouds in the sky.

When the voice spoke, I was sailing alone in the Abacos of the Bahamas and spending quite a bit of time on an uninhabited island called Powell Cay. The experiences there were unbelievable at times, spectacular all of the time, and some of my fondest memories. In short, I felt like I had died and gone to Heaven.

How I arrived in the Bahamas is a story in and of itself. The short version is that in the Spring of 2022, my dog, Lucky, who had been with me for over sixteen wonderful years, passed away. He was suffering massively, and I had to make the tough decision to end his life. He died in my arms. I still feel guilt. Three months later, my Mom passed away in her sleep after a long battle with a disease and the aftereffects of a massive stroke. My Brother and I were amazed at the level of care she received in her last weeks by Hospice. They truly are angels. Mom is now buried with Dad in Arlington National Cemetery.

A bit farther back in time, I purchased a forty-foot, ocean-going sailboat in the Spring of 2021, moved it to Norfolk, VA, and lived on it there because my Mom had to move to an Assisted Living facility due to her inability to care for herself. It was the disease she was afflicted with that caused her sudden life change. She didn’t like it at all, but it had to be done. My Brother was nearby, but I wasn’t going to let him take care of Mom by himself, so I moved from the Outer Banks of North Carolina to Norfolk, Virginia, and lived aboard a sailboat. Fun in the warm months. Not so much in the cold ones.

After both Mom and Lucky left this earth within a few months of each other in 2022, I felt a bit lost. Ok, a lot lost. Two of the most significant aspects of my life were gone forever. I wasn’t in a relationship. I didn’t have a traditional home glued to the earth. I did have a boat, though. Not just any boat, but one that could take me to any shoreline that any ocean touches. So, I decided to quit my full-time job, sell my truck, and get rid of anything else that wouldn’t fit on my sailboat. I didn’t know where I wanted to end up. I just knew I needed to take off…yet again. Yeah, I’ve done this before and wrote a book about it. Path of Three Hundred: Volume 1

I took off from Bay Point Marina, Norfolk, Virgina on November 28, 2022. I had sold my truck the day before, and cleared out the storage unit a few days before that. Aside from a few things at my brother’s house, everything I owned was on my forty-foot sailboat, the S/V Longtail.

After cruising down the Intracoastal Waterway to Charleston, SC, over several very cold weeks alone, I sailed offshore for over thirty hours to Fernandina Beach, Florida. Sailing offshore is magical…especially alone, even overnight, with little sleep. After a few more jaunts offshore alone and none in the ICWW, I arrived in West Palm Beach, Florida, where I stayed for almost six weeks, hanging out with my cousin, Elie, who lives and sails there.

After making some major repairs that could have sunk the boat had they not been caught, I took off for the Bahamas. For the first time in my sailing life, I took on a passenger. Lachlan Ross was becoming a competent sailor, and he just wanted to go sailing. It didn’t matter to him where; he just loved to sail. He made the trip with me to West End, Bahamas, Great Sale Cay, Powell Cay, and Marsh Harbor, Bahamas. I developed engine problems on the way to Marsh Harbor and ended up being stuck there for about a month. I didn’t consider myself stuck; I was in a wonderful tropical place, which calmed my soul. I loved being there. Lachlan wanted to go sailing. I could tell he was frustrated, but he didn’t want to leave me alone to sail. Once I explained to him that that is what I’m used to, he felt comfortable going and finding another sailor who wanted another body on board. A few days later, Lachlan was gone, and I was comfortably alone again.

Prior to Marsh Harbor and the engine issues, Lachlan and I were on our way from Great Sale Cay to Green Turtle Cay when I noticed on the charts an uninhabited island called Powell Cay. I felt drawn to it for reasons I didn't understand at the time. As we passed Powell Cay, I noticed only a few boats were anchored. Looked cool, I felt called to go there, so I turned the boat, found a good patch of sand, and dropped the hook (anchor). Yep, another instance of the Inner Voice.

The next morning, I noticed white birds flying near a cliff. I broke out the binoculars and discovered that the birds I was seeing were White-tailed Tropicbirds, also known as Bermuda Longtails. That is yet another story and part of the first book that I wrote. I consider Longtails to be one of my Spirit Animals. When I bought the sailboat, I changed the name to Longtail because of my experiences with them on the way to Bermuda while sailing alone in 2011 on a much smaller and less equipped boat. LOL…it’s so wild to me how life works.

So, after Lachlan left and my engine was fixed, I headed back to Powell Cay. I spent a total of three weeks in the area, all because of the Longtails.

It was during those three weeks, anchored off Powell Cay, that I began to feel a bit unwell regarding my health. My energy was declining in ways I couldn’t explain. I was even finding it difficult to walk up the few steps out of the cabin to the cockpit. I was active and eating well, but I felt tired. Every day, I hiked the island and even made friends with a different bird whom I call Orange Eyes. Something was off, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I remember sitting alone in the cockpit of the Longtail one evening as I was watching and listening to the Longtails. I distinctly heard a voice inside that said, Sell your boat and settle down for once in your life. But that’s not what I wanted. I wanted those messages from within to go away. I did not like what I was hearing. That silent Inner Voice spoke the same words over and over for days. Towards the end of my stay at Powell Cay, I reached out to a boat broker in Florida and started the process.

By the end of June 2023, I had sold the boat, bought a new truck, and moved into an apartment in Jacksonville, Florida. Life was not how I had envisioned it to be just months prior.

I began noticing some gut pain every once in a while, but nothing big, and it would always go away. Fast forward to November 2024, and I have cancer. A cancer that could easily kill me soon if I didn’t follow the directions laid out by the doctors treating me. I complied. My solo sailing days are forever over, it would seem.

I didn’t understand why I was being instructed to sell my sailboat. I put so much time and effort into getting her ready in those months before I took off. And even more while I was in West Palm Beach, and in Marsh Harbor.

Lucky for me, the dude who bought my boat, Brandon Dolan, asked me to fly down to the Bahamas in March/April 2024 and help him sail the Longtail back to the States. I agreed with one requirement: that we stop for a week at Powell Cay so I could photograph the Longtails with my new Canon equipment. He complied, and I got some of the best photographic shots of my life. My experience with the Longtails of Powell Cay the year before, while I was alone, is what inspired me to uplevel my photography with the new Canon gear. Before the Canon gear, all I had was my phone camera and a GoPro.

I’ve skimmed the surface of a story here. I could expand this into a rather lengthy chapter. Perhaps I will. For now, I will leave you with this…

I have learned over time to listen to my Inner Voice. No, it is not some schizophrenic episode I have from time to time. I don’t actually hear a voice with my ears. The voice is not physical. The voice is hard to describe, and I suppose a better word to use now is Knowing—an Inner Knowing or The Inner Knowing Voice. The words are clear, and they come from a higher place.

Perhaps I will go to Powell Cay again in the future. I won't plan it out actively. I’ll just let it happen if something creates the notion. That’s the way I was able to go in 2024 with the new owner. I thought about wanting to go. Just thought about it. Perhaps the new owner heard my Inner Voice calling.

I would love to go back while the colony of Longtails is there breeding, which is in the Spring and into Summer. Once the young ones can fly and be on their own, the adults take to the sea and do not return until the following Spring, which is one of the reasons why most people, including local Bahamians, are unaware of the Longtails' existence. They stay at sea for most of their lives and only return to land for one reason: the creation of a family.

Sometimes we don’t like what we hear. Sometimes we don’t like what we know we need to do. Sometimes, life presents us with things that are uncomfortable in seemingly intolerable ways. The thing is this: We must listen. We must comply with our Inner Knowing because when it is real, it will not steer us wrong—the trick is to be able to discern between our Inner Knowing and mere desire. Pray, meditate, or a combination of both. Once you go silent and deep into your soul…deep into your heart, then you will hear…and you will Know.

If you would like to dive deeper into what I mean by Inner Voice, you can click the link below to a piece I wrote in 2013 about using it to follow your Internal Compass. I have been teaching myself to listen to my heart for quite some time now. When I listen and comply, everything falls into place perfectly. When I deny what I hear and push it down, all sorts of mayhem ensues. Here’s the link: Following Your Internal Compass and Making Your Own Decisions