After the Voyage

I'm moving into the next phase of my life: the Rascal has a new owner, I'm living in the states again, and I'm about to start a new career.  

​But it has been a while since I gave you an update, so I figured I'd give you a rundown on what I've been up to, what I'll be getting into next, and what sort of new adventures the Rascal will be charging into.

The Rascal and I had been through a lot over the course of two years: high winds, electrical fires, spilled beers, raucous parties, breaking waves, and more than a couple hammock naps.  I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into her and she reciprocated with thousands of miles of carefree sailing.  She protected me during horrific storms and she gently rocked me to sleep every night.
 
She led me to a simpler life, with less clutter and less waste.  “Things” and “stuff” don’t matter to me anymore unless they enable me to have beautiful experiences.  While the Rascal felt like a part of the family, she’s still just a “thing” in the end and it felt like time to let her go.  She gave me the freedom to live my dream and she was ready to help someone else fulfill theirs.

Thus, I listed the Rascal for sale in Chile and waited for a suitor to arrive.  A few folks made overtures in her direction from Santiago and a handful of tire kickers came by to fondle her bulwarks and tap dance upon her deck.  None of these suitors proved worthy, however, and the weeks continued to pass.  I put these idle weeks to good use with a number of glorious excursions and adventures - both in Patagonia and with a few forays to the northern desert.  

Eventually, I got a call from a man named Mauricio and he came by to take a peek at the Rascal.  He had stars in his eyes from the very first moment he saw her and we figured out the details over the course of a couple days.  Mauricio truly has a noble cause planned for the Rascal and I have no doubt that they'll go on some superb adventures.

When Mauricio's daughter died in a climbing accident in the Andes ten years ago, he wanted to do something to honor her memory. Carolina had been a marine biologist and before her death, the father-daughter duo spent a lot of time sailing together in Patagonia.  Thus, Mauricio started Patagonia Watch Foundation.  His goal is to increase understanding of and eventually help to stop the environmental atrocities that're occurring in the fjords of Patagonia. The Rascal will be used as a tool for scientific research and (I would imagine) some major adventures in southern Chile.

​I couldn't be more stoked to hand her on to a capable captain and a righteous cause!

With the Rascal sold and a few duffel bags of my belongings packed up, I hopped on a flight back to the states.  I'd gone a couple years without seeing a lot of my friends and family, so I decided a road trip was in order.  I flew back to Utah and that same day I purchased the glorious vehicle that was to be my partner for another tremendous adventure!

Donna (as she's named) is a 1987 Mercedes 300d that has been converted to run on used fryer oil.  I knew I'd be covering a lot of territory during the road trip that I dubbed the "Great American Friendship Tour" (GAFT for short) so getting good mileage was important to me.  Donna gets about 30 miles to the gallon and when she's running on waste vegetable oil, driving is nearly free.  I like to say that she's powered by the obesity of North America instead of the dead dinosaurs everyone else fills their tank with.  

Thus, I proceeded to pilot myself around North America in a big figure 8, sliding on down to New Orleans and Florida, making my way north along the east coast, stopping for a spell in New England, cruising back across the country to UT, onward to San Fran, up into the Pacific Northwest, and then back around to Wyoming and Colorado again.  

It took Donna and I 128 days and 16,436.3 miles to make the circuit. I hugged lots of long-lost friends, took in lots of glorious sunsets, and explored the nooks and crannies that make this country so great. It felt really great to reconnect with all of the people that mean so much to me and I got to spend lots of time in my favorite bits of wilderness.  

I'd been scouting for job prospects throughout the GAFT and when I got to the trip's end, I had a number of leads to follow up on.  During the course of my voyage, I lived a wonderfully simple life. I relied on the wind for transportation, on the sun for electricity, and on the sea for sustenance. It felt really good to reduce my impact on the world around me, and I decided to make it my mission to help others do the same. ​

Thus my job search centered around alternative energy / energy storage / alternative transportation.  I spent a couple months interviewing with different companies all around the country and, rather than look down on my time on the Rascal, most employers were quite impressed and positive about it.
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I eventually found the right fit with a company in Vermont called Renewable NRG that mostly focuses on wind.  I'll be working as a product manager and I'll be traveling about 25% of the time to Europe, South America, and Asia to meet with customers and suppliers.  I'm eager to dive in, learn more about the industry, and make my mark.

A lot of folks have asked what it is like to return to the "real world" after an extended adventure and, in the beginning, it all felt pretty bizarre.  Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere.  The weather didn't affect me much on a day-to-day basis.  My bed didn't rock around at night.  But little-by-little bizarre became normal again and I've settled back into life on land.  I've had the luxury of being able to take it slow and I reassimilated at my own pace, spending plenty of time in nature.  

While I've reaccustomed myself to life in the USA, I'll always take with me the lessons, skills, and mindset that I acquired on the Rascal.