I never wanted to be in the business of selling comfort. I mostly strove for the opposite. By nudging people out to sea, I hoped to guide them toward a rewarding degree of misery.
Growth requires a healthy dose of discomfort—or as Aristotle put it, “We cannot learn without pain.” The same could be said of change.
The next two issues of Practical Sailor will be my last as editor. The work here has been immensely satisfying, and I feel lucky to have held a job that so neatly meshes with my own interests. To those sailors who never dreamed of severing the dock lines for good, embarking down an uncertain path late in life might seem crazy. But I imagine most PS readers can relate.
During my fifth year of cruising, at age 29, after soaking up so many trade wind passages, tropical sunsets, and a fair bit of rum, I realized that most sailing magazines, which had so successfully lured me into a liveaboard lifestyle, were feeding a sail-away-from-it-all fetish that seemed to miss the point of going to sea.
The aim of passagemaking, as I came to understand, was not escape, but naked immersion. When you expose yourself to the uncertainty, danger, and, yes, the misery of an ocean passage, a fresh, forward-looking perspective necessarily takes hold. Sail long enough and you realize that beyond every dark horizon, a sunny refuge waits.
And then I began writing for those magazines.
I wrote about the exotic destinations that publishers wanted, but I also wrote about fear, doubt, and loneliness accentuated by weeks at sea. I’d hoped that my stories might give readers the same insight that I had found on the high seas. But a sea story, no matter how well told, can’t recreate the visceral sensations of sailing your own small boat.
So, two decades ago I decided to focus on providing the practical knowledge that enables others to enjoy the unparalleled discomfort of an ocean passage (you’re welcome). It was a duty I took seriously, not only because of the stakes involved, but because I owed it to the sailing community. Dozens of brilliant, far more experienced sailors kept me out of trouble during the ten years I spent cruising. Forever grateful for their help, I felt obliged to pay it forward. PS gave me a way me repay this debt.
I hope you enjoy the last few issues under my direction. In my new role as an editor-at-large, I hope to continue to help Practical Sailor readers confidently step out of their comfort zone as they pursue their passion for sailing.
Outside of Practical Sailor, you can find me at www.darrellnicholson.com. While I plan to continue to serve the sailing community, my immediate goal is a return to storytelling. For the past few years, I’ve been working with directors in Sarasota, FL and Chicago on a solo stage performance centered around sailing, fatherhood, love, and aging. Celebrating the unexpected moments that change our lives forever, the project is delivering exactly what I need right now—a whole new level of discomfort.
