JULY 17, 2025 – I’m always on the lookout for inspiration. It’s an easy proposition. All that’s required is to keep eyes and ears peeled at all times in all company.
One regular source of inspiration is an offshore solo sailor named “Drew.” I don’t know a lot about him except that he’s a West Coast Canadian and currently a few hundred nautical miles south of Hawaii on his way home from New Zealand. I first heard of him when he was a couple days south of Tahiti. I follow several round-the-world solo sailors, but this guy Drew seems to be the most down to earth . . . er . . . to sea. He projects competence and confidence, and if I were going to crew on any of the boats I follow, I think I’d be most comfortable aboard his. His sloop is nothing fancy, though none of the other sailors is wallowing in luxury either. Drew seems to know what he’s doing and manages to avoid major catastrophes—or at least doesn’t overdramatize his troubles. One aspect of his nautical expertise that impresses me most is his ability to trouble-shoot and fix critical equipment aboard his vessel, named, “X-Wing.”
On good sailing days, Drew so informs his followers, and over his shoulder the camera captures fair winds and cooperative seas. But sailing the length of the Pacific Ocean can put major strain on your boat, gear and equipment, which is why Drew carries plenty of spare parts. He’s constantly fixing things (as are the other solo sailors who post running logs of their voyages), and I’m fast realizing that to sail the seven seas hundreds of miles from even the smallest clod of terra firma, you have to be more than a good technical sailor. You need to be able to repair and replace pretty much everything, from sails and rigging to the engine to all the many devices you need to thrive at sea—alone—for weeks at a time. All the while, of course, you need to maintain some level of nourishment, personal hygiene, appearance (for the daily video uplink), and most critically, a positive and can-do attitude.
I often wonder what motivates Drew and his fellow travelers to live as recluses on the high seas. They obviously have high-tech and high-quality communications with the world and stay well-connected with people, but for weeks at a time, they are wholly removed from society.
The single most notable trait of the solo, offshore sailors I follow is rugged determination. Stuff happens, and when something goes haywire halfway between Tahiti and Hawaii or persistent adverse weather forces you to heave to for a day and a half, you don’t get to say, “I quit.”
I thought about this today as I was hauling sand and gravel way up the trail to the construction site for my “Pergola-on-Platform.” There were times when I felt as if I’d planned for a voyage from Croatia to Corfu but found myself sailing the length of the Pacific instead.
“What would Drew do?” I asked myself. And in response I called upon the inspiration of his example: He’d smile, and say (into the camera) without complaint, “Hi, Drew here. Me and my boat, the X-Wing are now 800 nautical miles south of Hawaii. I almost missed making today’s post, because I’m kinda wiped out from being below deck all day. I spent hours replacing this [camera cuts to a broken engine part] incredibly hard to reach [gizmo]. I’d noticed that yesterday while motoring through becalmed seas, the engine was sounding a bit off, and when I opened the compartment, I saw fluid all over the floor . . . This little hiccup has probably cost me a day of progress. I’m not worried yet, but I do want to get to Hawaii before hurricane season produces tough weather.”
My “little hiccup” today was the realization that I hadn’t allotted sufficient time or attention to constructing a gravel base for each of the four support posts of the “Pergola-on-Platform.” What I’d assumed I could do in an hour or two with a minimum of sand and gravel, wound up consuming nearly the whole day. Moreover, I had to make five round trips, each time lugging 30 pounds of sand and rocks, which first had to be “mined” from the lake bed along the shore. The “fun part” of my project, namely, designing, drawing, building the structure—i.e. sailing on a broad reach, carried by Trade Winds at perfect strength, and gliding into the tropical sunset—was displaced by a fundamental concern: and arduous remedy: frost control and the need to make my bases deeper.
Had I bitten off more than I could chew with this project? To chase away self-doubt, I thought about Drew’s matter-of-fact response to his engine problem. I would do the same. I’d buckle down and do what needed to be done. If “the little hiccup” required unplanned multiple treks up and down “the mountain,” so be it.
Now, I’m ready for a day on deck, enjoying the “Trades” and making time toward my destination.
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© 2025 by Eric Nilsson
