He has risen. Praise and give thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ. Day whatever it is on the open Pacific. We have lost count a little, but the miles keep sliding west. We left Panama for Hawaii on March 8. As you know, a few problems along the way forced some delays. Even so, if you calculate our March 8 departure against the full mileage from Panama to Hawaii without any stops, we crossed the halfway mark. After thirty days of sailing from Panama, we have about 2,300 nautical m

A thousand miles from the nearest anything, the Pacific has a way of making even your own thoughts feel tiny. The horizon stretches out like it has no intention of ever stopping. The swells roll on with the confidence of creatures that have been doing this long before humans showed up with boats and opinions. Hazel moves with all of it. She creaks, sighs, hums, and occasionally scolds us. You learn her language fast. The good noises fade into a lullaby. The bad ones snap you

Out here on the open Pacific, a thousand miles from the nearest land, the masks we wear in everyday life don’t last long. An ocean crossing has a way of stripping you down to the truth of who you are and how you behave when it matters most. There is no audience on a small boat in the middle of nowhere. No one to impress, no social script to follow, and nowhere to hide when things go sideways. The ocean simply is. Indifferent, powerful, relentless. It does not care about your