Editor's Letter

On a damp gray morning in September, I left a dry room in a B&B on Bellevue Avenue to walk down to Bannister’s Wharf, smack in the middle of the harbor front, ground zero for the town’s seafaring past.

It's time for a change of watch at Soundings, but it's definitely not goodbye. The ship sails on, with able crew.

I remember the first time I walked though the door at the Soundings offices in Essex, Connecticut.

On a damp, gray day in May, I trudged along a country road lined by towering hornbeams, across a short field and past the chicken coop.

If I’m really honest with myself, my love of boating is deeply entwined — no, totally inseparable — from my love of the sea.

Once upon a time, I was not obsessed with boats.

I’m not a covetous person by nature — maybe because I feel I have been lucky, or blessed, in all the ways that matter.

Yesterday afternoon I looked out my office window and saw hints of spring.

If we’re shipping the March issue to the printer, and you’re reading the March issue of the magazine right now, then March is finally on the horizon. In the Northeast that brings a mixed few weeks of leaden skies and dirty, icy slush, with an occasional snowstorm of epic proportions.

Fall and early winter are always a busy time for marine journalists, with boat shows and travel ramping up the time away from home and the race to get each issue of the magazine out.

Our industry recently returned from its largest annual event: the Fort Lauderdale International Boat Show.

We’ve heard it a million times: It’s not about the destination, but the journey.

Fall. Is there an easier season to love? The sticky haze of summer has faded to a pleasant memory.

Working at a magazine does strange things to your sense of time. It’s mid-August as I write this, but today we will be sending the October issue of Soundings to the printer.

A fine line separates good enough from perfect when it comes to boats. Most of us are not ambitious enough to go anywhere near it, but for some, nothing less than immaculate will do.

I’ve been on Matinicus Island, Maine, for the last two weeks, and I should be able to stay — with a couple of trips off-island for work — at least another six weeks. I am ridiculously happy here, but this island is not for everyone.