The Old Woman Bids Farewell to the Sea

26 June, 2023

This is it, my final blog post.

Just writing that sentence makes me teary-eyed. Recording and sharing our odyssey with family and friends for the past 6-½ years has provided me with a vital creative outlet and forced me to be accurate and honest about our experiences. Good or bad, they’re all part of the story, and I am deeply grateful to you for reading and for your compliments and feedback.

Now it’s time to wrap up this endeavor, beginning with some fun statistics:

Corroboree sailed out of St. Augustine on 4 January 2017 and landed in Boca Raton on 11 June 2023. She traveled a total of 31,709 miles, and Eric and I spent 438 calendar days at sea. We traversed the Caribbean Sea and the South Pacific, Indian, and South Atlantic Oceans and crossed the Equator twice. Our longest passage was 3,981 miles and 34 days from Panama City, Panama, to Hiva Oa, Marquesas. Our fastest 24-hour run was 181 miles, made possible by the Guyana Current off the coast of Brazil. We dropped anchor or tied up in 153 ports and anchorages in 17 countries plus overseas territories of the USA, UK, France and the Netherlands. Our longest stay was 3 years in Australia, due to Covid. Please don’t ask us to name our favorite place or even places. Sometimes it was the least likely place that gifted us with an unforgettable encounter or a valuable lesson.

During our time abroad, and leaving Corroboree safely in port, Eric and I added two more countries to our tally by plane. The first jaunt took us from Panama to Peru to visit Machu Picchu and the Amazon rain forest with our daughter Kira. The second, from Cape Town to Kruger National Park, South Africa, and Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, was masterminded by Eric’s sister Ingrid and her husband Bill, who joined us from Chicago. Both trips were all the more special in the company of our adventurous kin. In addition, Eric and I bought 3 cars—one in New Zealand, two in Australia—and camped in them on road trips that totaled approximately 7,100 miles.

Part of our plan for the voyage was to volunteer whenever and wherever possible along our route. We saw it as a way to meet people, make friends, and expand our understanding of the countries we visited. It also enabled us to spread some goodwill for the USA. In all, we held 6 volunteer jobs plus 3 house/pet-sitting jobs, and we heartily thank our bosses and the homeowners for welcoming and trusting us. We got much more than we gave.

While at sea we witnessed 9 green flashes, one solar eclipse, and had 4 bird strikes into our wind generator. We hit one reef and swear we will never do so again. We were gladdened by numerous, radiant sunrises, sunsets and rainbows. Between land and sea, I added 627 bird species to my life list, which now numbers 1,057. Eric and his guitar performed at a dozen open mic nights in 3 countries, his most requested number being a musical version of “Entrapment: The Terrifying but Tragically True Tale of Trevor’s Trapped Testicle” by Australian bush poet Bill Kearns. He will be happy to sing it for you sometime. Counting this final epistle, I have written 109 blog posts. There will not be a book about the voyage, but if you’ve enjoyed my writing, please check out my novels at https://www.arlissryan.com/books Glowing reviews on Amazon are always appreciated.

And now, what’s next?

When I launched “The Old Woman and the Sea” in January 2017, most readers found the title clever and amusing. But a few friends protested, “Oh, Arliss, you’re not old!” Maybe not then. Eric and I were in excellent health and further energized by the adventure before us. Moreover, as ever more people kick up their heels into their nineties, there’s some validity to the peppy slogan that 60 is the new 40. Yet there is no arguing with time, and I knew that by the end of our circumnavigation, we would be physically, if not mentally, old.

And so we are. I will be 73 in July, Eric turns 74 in November. During the course of our voyage, his beard has segued from gray to snowy, and my hair has been crowned with silver. Our eyeglass prescriptions have grown steadily stronger, our muscle strength steadily weaker despite our vigorous lifestyle. Normal aging aside, the sun, wind and salt spray are not kind to sailors. If your first reaction on seeing us after almost seven years is Good grief, they’ve gotten old!, we won’t blame you. We’ll try not to blurt the same when we see you.

All of this is okay. Eric and I like a challenge, and we’re deep into plans for making the most of the rest of our lives. We’ve already acquired a car, a flashy secondhand red Prius we have named Miss Scarlet. That makes our next priority a no-brainer: Drive to Atlanta and hug our grandchildren. Grateful as we are for the communications technology that has enabled us to see and talk with our family from almost everywhere in the world, it will be a moment of pure joy when we finally enfold those two little people in our arms.

Visiting the many other relatives and friends we’ve not seen in 6-½ years comes next. This may take some time as they are scattered across the country, but that’s perfect. Along with the pleasure of reconnecting, it will give us a chance to scout out a new home base. We are prepping Corroboree to go on the market and will live on her meanwhile. Eric has created a spec sheet for potential buyers, in case you know anyone who might be interested. Though she has brought us safely around the globe, she would be happiest in more protected waters like the Chesapeake or the Great Lakes, for which she was originally designed.

Also in the works is a presentation to be titled “Around the World in 60 Minutes on Corroboree.” Condensing 31,709 miles and thousands of photographs into a one-hour format is like trying to whittle a tree down to a toothpick, but once it’s ready, we will offer ourselves as speakers, free of charge, to sailing organizations, yacht clubs, schools and civic groups. It may well dash a lot of romantic notions about circumnavigating the globe. But if it informs and enlightens people and inspires them to pursue their own goals, it will pay forward a small amount of the encouragement and support that people have showered on us.

As for our individual endeavors, Eric looks forward to having a garage or workshop again and outfitting it with a table saw, planer, drill press, band saw and shelves replete with tools. His eyes gleam at the thought of endless visits to hardware stores. Once he has a quiet place to resume daily practice on his guitar, he also aims to revive his open mic night career.

I am thrilled to reveal a new literary project. It began to take shape early in the voyage when, trying to stay awake on night watches, I looked up at the glittering stars and a poem about the constellation Cassiopeia emerged in my brain. The result, six years later, is Constellations: Poems of the Night Watch, a volume of poetry and art created in a long-distance collaboration with our artist daughter Kira in Boulder, Colorado. Final artwork is in progress, and the opening poem is below.

When you’re sailing around the world, in company with other cruisers, it seems like a perfectly normal thing to do. Now, as we introduce ourselves to people ashore, we find that’s not so. There’s a moment where they pause and look at us as if we might be aliens. “Wait a minute,” they say. “You did what?” They’re right. Now that it’s real, it feels surreal, and as I bid farewell to the sea, I wish I had some great piece of wisdom with which to end this tale. Yet it’s so very simple:

We have but one home, our beautiful planet Earth. Cherish and protect her.
We are one race, the human race. There are good people everywhere.

Fair winds and following seas, Arliss