OUR STORY

THE BEGINNING
Our voyages began the year we were married, in 1982. We took ownership of an 18-foot Solcat catamaran and christened her Bottoms Up. After a decade of fair-weather sailing and the occasional blow, we knew it was time to step up to a vessel that could better carry our growing crew. Our budget was lean, but we found a neglected 27-foot 1977 Santana lying forlorn. We hauled her out, and over the next several seasons we refitted her from stem to stern until she was once again a respectable and seaworthy craft. We renamed her Thalassa—Greek for “from the sea.” We sailed her happily for five years before selling her in 1998 to move up in size. The work we had put into her paid off handsomely; she fetched four times what we had paid.

FINDING HARBORNATE
We set a course for California in search of our next ship. After three days of walking the docks from marina to marina, we found a 30-foot Ericson lying at the Catalina dealer’s pier. A short sea trial in Marina del Rey was enough—she already felt like one of the family. Over the next twelve years we refitted, upgraded, rebuilt, replaced, and redesigned nearly every part of her. Most of all, we simply enjoyed time under sail and at anchor with family and friends.

HELLO BEAR LAKE
When the Great Salt Lake grew too shallow for deeper-draft vessels, we put our names on the waiting list for Bear Lake. On September 18, 2010, word came that we were third in line to move Harbonate north. The prospect of leaving the Great Salt Lake made us reflect on how deeply that body of water had shaped our children’s growing-up years and how many memories we had made during our seventeen seasons there.
We weathered the toxic fallout from Kennecott, the constant drone of freeway traffic, fierce windstorms, summer doldrums with not a breath of air, dock fires, indignant park rangers, water so thick and green you could nearly walk on it, seasons of low water, barn swallows, brine flies, hornets, and more spiders than any sailor cares to count. It was all part of the Great Salt Lake experience. Yet on a fine spring day with 18 knots of steady breeze and a flat sea, every hardship felt worth it. The lake offered us a quiet harbor from the world and reminded us of what truly mattered.
Relocating the boat the two hours to Bear Lake was a nerve-wracking passage, but well worth the effort. Known as the Caribbean of the Rockies, Bear Lake shares the same lime-rich water that gives the true Caribbean its brilliant blue—especially when the sun is high. Being a mountain lake, the air runs a good ten degrees cooler than the valley. The water stays bracingly cold, reaching only the low 70s by late summer, yet it is a pure joy to dive from the deck into the clear depths—something the Great Salt Lake never allowed. Fish cruise the docks and under the hull, and the children still delight in tucking bread between their toes so the carp can nibble it away.

HARBORNATE II
In 2019 we had the chance to step up once more, this time to a 1997 Catalina 36 Mark II. We have spent the last seven years restoring and improving her, and the extra room has been a welcome luxury for children, grandchildren, and visiting friends. Now that David has swallowed the anchor and retired, we find ourselves at the start of a new chapter. Lake sailing has begun to feel a bit too confining, and we are looking forward to blue-water passages along the East Coast and through the islands of the Bahamas. Sailing has always been our passion. It has given us experiences of extreme pleasure and complete terror that left us with a deep respect for Mother Nature and an appreciation for God’s creations.

Interacting with nature on such an intimate level breeds a profound humility—a realization that you are working alongside a force far greater than yourself. Yet, this bond simultaneously instills an enduring confidence: by moving in harmony with the natural world, there is very little you cannot overcome. These are enduring lessons for life.