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I wanted to share a quick update on Hurricane Lala, which struck the Big Island before weakening into a tropical storm as it reached Oahu. I am deeply grateful that the Big Island absorbed the full force of the storm. That landfall drained much of Lala’s destructive energy before she reached us. Even so, the damage there is significant, and the aftermath is heartbreaking for many communities. Hazel made it through the night without any major incident, but it was far from easy

Before diving into the meaning behind the title, Hazel has a handful of refit updates officially completed. Hazel now has an outdoor shower, which will make self care easier and far more enjoyable for the crew. With any luck it might even inspire Peter to embrace a higher frequency of personal hygiene. Hazel certainly appreciates being kept fresh and scent free. Hazel is proud to announce that the new head is fully installed. If you have followed the blog, you already know th

I just landed in Oahu and finally saw Hazel for the first time since May. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until I was standing there looking at her, this boat that somehow manages to be both beauty and strength in one graceful shape. She has been resting quietly in Ko Olina Marina, her lines secure and her hull kissed by the protected Hawaiian waters she earned after more than fifteen thousand nautical miles. The Pacific crossing from Panama still feels like a half dre

Hazel rests now in Ko Olina Marina on Oahu, her lines secured and her hull gently touching the protected Hawaiian water after more than twelve thousand nautical miles of rivers and open ocean. The Last Dance from Hilo Bay to Honolulu is behind us. Repairs are waiting. Summer downtime has officially begun. As Peter and I step off her deck for the first time in months, the weight of every mile we traveled finally settles in. It arrives not as exhaustion, but as gratitude. It al

Hazel is on her final voyage before she is put to rest in Ko Olina Marina on Oahu for the summer. She will finally receive some well deserved repairs and maintenance. The run from Hilo Bay on the Big Island to Honolulu is 225 nautical miles of open ocean sailing. For Hazel, that means a straight shot of about 36 hours. What a sail it has been so far. We have averaged 6.4 knots over the last 155 miles. I am writing this during my last night watch of the season. We have 21 knot

There are a few phrases sailors dream of saying out loud, and after 37 days at sea, crossing the longest open stretch of the Pacific without touching land, Peter and I finally earned one of them: land ho. When the Big Island first appeared on the horizon, I had to call my wife and show her. Trying to describe the feeling of seeing land after more than a month at sea is nearly impossible. Relief, joy, excitement, and a quiet sense of pride all collided at once. Moments later,

We continue pressing west with plenty of blue water between us and Hawaii. The days have started to blur, but the lessons keep coming and the small victories still arrive right when we need them. Some days out here feel effortless and almost magical. Other days test every ounce of patience we have. Over the last couple of days we managed to experience both extremes. As you’ll see in the videos, we went from an absolutely ideal day of sailing with perfect wind to a full day of

Have you ever been on a long road trip and, near the end, all you want is to finally arrive? That is exactly where Peter and I are. We have been sailing nonstop since St. Patrick’s Day on 17 March, which makes today day thirty one. We have about eight hundred nautical miles left of this more than five thousand nautical mile Pacific crossing to Hawaii. The last four days have been full of adventure mixed with a fair amount of disappointment. With our limited usable sail platfo

As you can imagine, Paul’s better half ends up fielding twice as many questions as he does. Here’s a shore‑side update from Crystal Olson to answer a few of them . Why didn’t you go with him? Long before Paul ever pointed Hazel toward the horizon, he spent years watching sailing video blogs of couples, families, and even dogs living their best lives on the water. Somewhere in that process, he convinced himself he could talk me into joining him. The flaw in that plan is simple

Yesterday was a 24 hour nightmare. I wish it had been a dream so I could wake up and shake it off, but every bit of it was real and the consequences will follow us all the way to Hawaii. We are currently 1,700 nautical miles from Honolulu. Under normal conditions, with Hazel carrying her full sail plan, we would have expected to arrive in about twelve days. After yesterday, that timeline is no longer realistic. The day took a serious toll on Hazel, and her crew is exhausted b

The rhythm out here has shifted in the best possible way. After the challenges of the early passage and the quiet joy of Easter, Hazel and the two of us seem to have found a groove blessed by good weather and following seas. This 5,000 mile passage has been reduced to 1,875 miles remaining, which means 63% is behind us, but who’s counting. The asymmetrical spinnaker has become our friend instead of the source of our frustration. We have grown confident in setting and trimming

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

Day 12, as in the twelve disciples, since we dropped Steve off at Marina Pez Vela in Quepos. We are now entering our fourth week sailing the vast Pacific after transiting the Panama Canal. For the last twelve days it has been just Peter and me aboard, and the ocean is reminding us daily who is in charge. She dictates direction and speed with her winds, waves and current. She has no awareness of the tiny humans riding her unbridled power. Yet she always offers a glimpse of her

This entry is a tough one to write. The last 48 hours have been so full that it feels almost unreal. There have been highs, new experiments, small victories, and a few frustrations. The more focused and curious Peter and I become with Hazel, the more she seems to reward us. Our days are packed with action and the hours disappear quickly. Here is a walk through the last 24 hours. Late yesterday afternoon, Peter and I rigged Hazel to sail in what sailors call wing on wing. We s

The ocean does not care if you are having a good day or a bad day. It does not care if you are tired of the scorching heat or the torrential rains or the relentless wind and waves. This was the first thing we learned somewhere out in the Gulf. We are now around the twelfth day of this passage from Panama to Hawaii, roughly five thousand nautical miles of open Pacific to cross on Hazel with her crew of two. It has all become real. We are far from anything and anyone. Ahead of

When we last checked in, an ominous cyclone was trying to spin itself into existence right on top of us. Thankfully it never gathered enough energy to become the real thing. What it did produce was a patch of lively, confused ocean that kept us on our toes for a while. But all is well, and Hazel is pressing on. As I write this, we are 500 nautical miles offshore. That sounds like a long way until you remember Hazel still has another 4,000 nautical miles to go before she reach

We reached Pez Vela Marina safely, tucked into the town of Quepos, Costa Rica. It’s an absolutely beautiful marina and an equally charming city. This is where we said goodbye to Steve Lewis. Having him aboard was such a gift, and watching him leave was harder than expected. With any luck, Hazel will get to welcome him back someday. Hazel also received her international Zarpa, clearing her to depart Costa Rica with Hawaii as her next destination. I’m often asked what it costs

We’re settled into the calm, green embrace of Golfito Bay at Fishhook Marina, and this stop has come with a special treat. Our longtime friend Steve Lewis has joined us for a visit. Peter and I worked with Steve during our days at McDonnell Douglas/Boeing, and later at Red Wing Shoe Company. These days he calls San Jose, Costa Rica home, and he made the trip down to Golfito to spend time with us on Hazel. Tomorrow he’ll cast off with us as we head north to meet the trades. Th