We hugged our crew good-bye on the Pacific side of Panama and set off to double hand our way 700 NM along the Costa Rican coastline to the northern province of Guanacaste. We had already reserved a berth at Marina Papagayo on a stunning stretch of peninsula with the same name.

In March 2022, we felt as if we were finally progressing on our ultimate goal: sailing Wild Spirit to Australia. COVID had put us well behind schedule, but at last the Panama Canal passage was on the horizon. That is, we had a solid plan and a window of time to get through. We also had crew.

Aruba, Bonaire and Curaçao form the ABC islands, an archipelago known as the Lesser Antilles approximately 50 NM off the coast of Venezuela. Unlike much of the Caribbean region, the ABCs are situated outside the hurricane belt, making them attractive to cruisers looking to ride out the weather in safety from June through November.

When we hauled Wild Spirit out at Curacao Marine in January 2020, we couldn’t have known it would be 16 months before we’d see her again.

In November 2019, we still questioned our decision to cross the Atlantic. But by February 2020, as fears of COVID spread around the world, our decision to exit in January looked prescient.

It was a blue Christmas in the Caribbean without family to share the holiday. We consoled ourselves on the idyllic shoreline of Salt Whistle Bay in the Tobago Keys with champagne, freshly grilled lobster and fellow Aussies.

Be forewarned. Everything the tourist brochures say about Saint Lucia is true. She captivates anyone who sets foot on her shores. From that first breathtaking glimpse of the dual volcanic peaks rising out of the crystal ocean, Saint Lucia will steal your heart. Trust me, you won’t get it back.

Our combined time for both legs put us first overall, which was a huge win for Wild Spirit and the whole crew.

Three thousand nautical miles is a big chunk of ocean to swallow in one bite. As daunting as it sounded at first, it also felt like an incredible adventure—a once in a lifetime kind of gig. But my first Atlantic crossing wouldn’t be Kevin’s first.

Is there anyone who wants to leave the Med? The spectacular coastline, the history, the ambiance, the food. The food! The wine. Who decides to leave such glorious richness behind?

A new boat. A new adventure. But after 18 months of yachtlessness, will I remember how to sail?

Dining in France is like playing musical chairs. You have between twelve and two o’clock to sit your bum in a chair before the chance to eat is rudely ripped out from under you.

My grasp of the French language was probably a lost cause, but at least I could learn to speak Fromage.

Yes, we planned to take delivery of our new Jeanneau 51 in the south of France, but I also had my own reasons for wanting to spend a summer in France. Call it nostalgia with a side of longing and purpose.

Before we started French lessons, I envisioned our two nights a week class as a kind of educational “date night.” How romantic—practicing our adopted language over a glass of wine in a candle-lit French restaurant. In reality, Kevin drinks wine and discusses generators for the new boat.

Our decision to buy another yacht arrived as new fears for Europe swept the headlines. Meanwhile, we explored the Caribbean aboard other people’s boats.

In October 2016, as we prepared to dry dock our 46-foot Beneteau in Greece for the winter, something unexpected happened. We asked ourselves a question.