Although I’ve been sailing a few times, adore the ocean, and the love the feel of sand between my toes, I am not a sailor, or interested in sailing voyages into the deep blue water. In fact, the only reason I picked up Krestchmer’s Sailing a Serious Ocean is because my friend and neighbor, Mike Kaufman, designed the boat showcased in this book. Kaufman handed me the book and said, “Take a look.”

At first, I thought I’d skim it, enjoy gently perusing the pages where Kaufman was mentioned. But then I discovered that not only had Kaufman designed an extraordinarily fine boat, Kretschmer wrote a captivating book. The images conjured from Krestchmer’s intricate descriptions coupled with his command of language engrossed me from the very first page and held my interest until the last word flattened into a sea of stillness. Sailor or not, reading Sailing a Serious Ocean brings us into a world full of moments that cause ourselves to pause, reflect about the choices we make as humans, the idleness of some, the risk-taking of others, and the mix that most us have in between. I now feel closer to understanding this breed of human, willing to sacrifice so much for the love of the seas, which has given me much to reflect about my life, the way I want to live, and the choices I want to make.

Kretschmer so aptly leaves us after his gripping accounts of storms, hard-learned lessons, and natural affinity for the fellowship and adoration found in the depths of the water by explaining his never-ending devotion to it: “We’ll stand our watches; keep an eye out for squalls, muscle the wheel to keep her squarely before trade wind-driven seas, and feel the thrill when we surf down a wave, and we’ll be cold wet, and miserable. But there’s one the thing I know for sure. None of us would trade places with anyone ashore.”
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