Jul 24, 2026 · 1 hr 7 min · 13 segments
3 ocean horror stories that prove the scariest thing about the sea isn't what we know is down there, it's what we don't. A depth sounder that picks up something rising in water three miles deep. A…
I've been delivering boats for other people for about sixteen years now.
It's a strange little corner of the sailing world that most people don't know exists.
Somebody buys a catamaran in Fort Lauderdale and wants it in the Virgin Islands, and instead of sailing it there themselves, they pay a crew to do it for them.
That crew is me and whoever I bring along.
I've crossed the Gulf Stream more times than I can count, done the Atlantic twice, and spent more nights of my adult life offshore than in a bed that doesn't move.
I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that what happened on this particular delivery did not happen to somebody who spooks easy.
The ocean has thrown just about everything at me over the years, and I have an explanation filed away for almost all of it.
Almost.
The boat was a forty-one foot catamaran, nearly new, and the run was Fort Lauderdale down to Tortola.
Standard stuff.
Roughly a thousand miles, most of it through open Atlantic, and if the weather cooperates, you can do it in seven or eight days.
My crew was Renny, who I've sailed with for over a decade, and who is the single most unflappable human being I have ever met, and a younger guy named Marcus, who was building up his offshore miles and paid attention and didn't talk too much, which honestly is most of what I ask for in a third crew member.
Steady wind on the beam, flying fish coming aboard at night.
The three of us rotating through watches and eating too much pasta.
Point is, everything was normal.
Better than normal.
On the fifth day, the wind started dying.
That's not unusual out there.
You're threading between weather systems the whole way down, and the forecast had shown a soft patch we'd have to motor through.
By early evening, the wind was gone completely, and I mean completely.
The sea went flat.
Not calm.
Flat.
There's a difference, and if you've spent time offshore, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
I've been delivering boats for other people for about sixteen years now.
It's a strange little corner of the sailing world that most people don't know exists.
Somebody buys a catamaran in Fort Lauderdale and wants it in the Virgin Islands, and instead of sailing it there themselves, they pay a crew to do it for them.
That crew is me and whoever I bring along.
I've crossed the Gulf Stream more times than I can count, done the Atlantic twice, and spent more nights of my adult life offshore than in a bed that doesn't move.
I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that what happened on this particular delivery did not happen to somebody who spooks easy.
The ocean has thrown just about everything at me over the years, and I have an explanation filed away for almost all of it.
Almost.
The boat was a forty-one foot catamaran, nearly new, and the run was Fort Lauderdale down to Tortola.
Standard stuff.
Roughly a thousand miles, most of it through open Atlantic, and if the weather cooperates, you can do it in seven or eight days.
My crew was Renny, who I've sailed with for over a decade, and who is the single most unflappable human being I have ever met, and a younger guy named Marcus, who was building up his offshore miles and paid attention and didn't talk too much, which honestly is most of what I ask for in a third crew member.
Steady wind on the beam, flying fish coming aboard at night.
The three of us rotating through watches and eating too much pasta.
Point is, everything was normal.
Better than normal.
On the fifth day, the wind started dying.
That's not unusual out there.
You're threading between weather systems the whole way down, and the forecast had shown a soft patch we'd have to motor through.
By early evening, the wind was gone completely, and I mean completely.
The sea went flat.
Not calm.
Flat.
There's a difference, and if you've spent time offshore, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
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