At Long Last – Meet My Captain (Our First Interview), Plus Why We're All-In on Sailing
⛵︎ Logbook 9/7/25: 82 days into our global sailboat odyssey
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Greetings shipmates,
When we set sail this summer from New Bern, North Carolina, our sailboat Chérie wasn’t yet “done.” We hadn’t spent the night at anchor yet, either. We knew there was some chance that we could hate our new lives on the water. But we’d need to figure it all out as we went along.
My husband, Captain Corey, had spent over 10 months working full-time in the boatyard while I worked my remote job to help fund the refit. He learned to fix or replace every major system, including the engine & rigging. I taught myself how to sew new boat cushions, replace the lifelines that would help keep us from falling off the boat, and added extra muscle when I had time. Then, when the Captain said we were ready to go, I quit my job.
When we finally started heading north, our to-do list still felt like an endless scroll and we didn’t know what was waiting for us.
You may wonder: “What on Earth was motivating these people?”
The answer: The possibility of a great adventure.
Fortunately, other sailors had coached us not to wait until we had crossed everything off our scroll before setting sail. If we waited, it could’ve taken another year.
When we had a relatively safe boat and we knew the sailing basics, we moved aboard and started our life on the water. We were ready to go!
We’d need to keep checking off the remaining projects along the way, and we’d need to figure out how to thrive in 100 square feet of living space for ourselves.
For nearly 1,000 miles now, that’s exactly what we’ve done.
We’ve sailed through the big bays & swamps in North Carolina, motored the Intracoastal Waterway through southern Virginia, crisscrossed the Chesapeake Bay up through Maryland, swung around Delaware, headed offshore along New Jersey, then aimed up the East River and around Long Island in New York (including an epic sail through NYC), and sailed past Connecticut into Rhode Island.
Today, we’re checking in from Newport, Rhode Island.
This is the furthest north we’ll go before turning back down south. In the past 12 weeks, we’ve managed to become competent sailors. We’ve learned to thrive aboard little Chérie. We’ve made the most out of the hurricane season while experiencing the American East Coast from the most magical perspective imaginable.
Even though we’ve had our share of challenges, all that is behind us now. In my mind, our transition to the water has been a raging success.
In Newport the past week, we’ve placed even more chips on the idea that we’re in it for the long-term.
Summer is officially over and we’re getting chilly on the water, so we bought new foul-weather gear that will keep us dry & toasty.
We also finally shelled out for a new offshore life raft ($2,700), and we managed to get the 70-pound block onboard (though we still need to figure out how to secure it without having to spend another $500 on a new holder). We also splurged to replace the leaking built-in compass in the cockpit ($350), which lights up at night and is absolutely gorgeous.
We’d been waiting to purchase some of these items until we had become more certain about our long-term prospects as liveaboards. We had everything we needed to sail up here, so each new purchase was technically extra. But we’re continuing to pile up our chips.
On the way to Newport, we learned that we love our floating lives aboard Chérie. It’s a completely different lifestyle in every way: a different mode of transportation, a different way of moving through our day, and a different way of experiencing everything. As I mentioned earlier this week, it feels like there’s no going back to our old life.
Corey says one of the reasons he loves visiting new places from the water is that it’s completely novel — even for places we’ve traveled in our land lives, like NYC or Newport. There’s nothing like the feeling of approaching on a sailboat.
This week’s Logbook is clearly different. Largely it’s because we haven’t sailed anywhere since last week’s installment. But also, it was high time to have readers hear from Captain Corey himself. At the top of this newsletter, you’ll find an interview between me and Corey, where we discuss the adventure so far. We talk about why he wanted to sail, his fears & role models, whether our life is more simple or free, and how the fantasy has compared to the reality so far. We also chat about where we're going next.
We’re sailors now.
Every dollar or hour we spend on our boat at this point is another decision to keep moving forward on the next leg of this journey and then the next leg.
The goal of “sailing around the world” has taken on a whole new meaning.
It feels like saying, “I’m going to become a world-famous adventure writer.” With many years of endless work & lucky breaks, sure, I know it’s possible. But focusing too much on such mammoth goals constantly runs the risk of making me miss all the beautiful pieces leading to these potential destinations. At this point, when today feels so supernatural, focusing too much on what comes next is crazy.
The only way to achieve such a big dream is by checking off one passage at a time. Even though sailing around the world feels impossible, this is exactly how it’s done: one decision at a time that increases the investment in this wild goal.
But more importantly: It’s about savoring every step of this incredible journey and all the highs & lows along the way.
If you have any questions for the Captain or me, let us know in the comments!
Until next time,
—Cory Vinny
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“How much work there is on a boat”
That’s the truth. The realization that “self sufficient” on a boat is a myth hit me hard when we first left. Things break and require parts.
I really enjoyed the interview. My wife and I have grown closer traveling on our boat. I think it’s really a “make it or break it” kind of thing. After a decade of knowing other cruising couples it seems there is no middle ground. Couples either become much closer or… they never speak again 😂😂. I’m exaggerating but only a little.
"Fortunately, other sailors had coached us not to wait until we had crossed everything off our scroll before setting sail. If we waited, it could’ve taken another year." I think this is a good metaphor for most new undertakings in life. Waiting until everything is perfect or you feel ready, might mean never doing the dang thing at all! And in those first weeks and months you figure what's necessary, what you can live without, and tweak things as you settle into a new way of live.
Yours is one of my favourite to follow along here on substack. Can't wait for you to make it down to Tasmania ⛵️💙 !