Roxy #4 of 4 Capturing the alight from Sky Pond

Every morning, I prepared before dawn with my palette, brushes, and paper, eager to capture the vibrant colors of the sunrise en plein air. After an hour of sun light and painting, Carl served our coffee out on the bow where we sat together simply watching the water and jungle light up with the new dawn. As part of our routine, we checked the anchor, investigated what kind of fish were hiding under our hull, and discussed the wind patterns for the next day.

Painting from the deck of Sky Pond anchored inside calm atolls significantly improved my skills. The rapidly changing light and the gentle sway of the boat, tethered to an anchor, forced me to simplify my subjects and capture their colors in just a few strokes. What I once saw as an impediment to painting became a catalyst for improving my techniques. As a result, fewer pieces of watercolor paper ended up shredded in frustration. My confidence grew, and occasionally, I invited other yachties on board for an open gallery event featuring wine and lively discussions about painting the islands.

A chance encounter led me to contribute to a nationally known watercolor magazine, where I wrote a series of articles about painting in remote locations while sailing on Sky Pond. My experiences exceed the dreams of most painters who work from photos in their home studios; painting the active volcano of Mt. Yasar on the island of Tanna, Vanuatu, while anchored in Captain Cook's Resolution Sound is astonishing! It's a gift that few can hope for. As Charlie Parker once said, "If you don't live it, it won't come out of the horn."

Sailing is about continuous learning. It involves anticipating potential dangers, planning for the long term, and reinventing practices based on lessons learned—what we refer to as seamanship. This concept applies to various forms of sailing, whether world cruising, racing, or day sailing, each requires a distinct focus and set of fundamental skills.

This perspective of learning is how I approached my journey in transitioning from painter to artist on Sky Pond. Much like seamanship, elements such as composition, design, and color theory can be applied across different artistic disciplines; this is the essence of artistry. I view my time painting on Sky Pond not as a period of producing masterpieces but, similar to a musician practicing scales, as a way to build a solid foundation that supports my evolution from painting to true artistry.

I never imagined that I would finally achieve the goal of my sixteen-year-old self of becoming a capable watercolorist. Even if you have a fair idea of who you are or what your ‘bliss’ is, I’ve learned that it is possible to start on one path then tack to another heading. Arriving at your destination depends on your willingness to see other paths previously off your radar

After nine years and 52,000 nautical miles of circumnavigating the Pacific Ocean, we decided to return to life on land. Reflecting on our travels together, most of our time was spent on short island hops or multi-week ocean journeys, but we rarely sailed just for enjoyment. I always found greater pleasure immersing myself in the land and people of our destinations than in the journey itself. I never became that sailor who strove to have “the rail in the water” and that’s ok. I will always cherish our unique adventure together as a couple, learning and enjoying life together.

I know now that what I once saw as conflicting paths were, in fact, intersecting journeys. I would never have been able to capture the scenery that most artists rely on stock photos for, nor would I have learned to evaluate and enhance my skills with plein air techniques—a truly valuable gift.

Looking back, my time studying Rembrandt as a teen created a lifelong appreciation for fine art. His numerous self-portraits that hang in many of the museums we visit around the world seem to call to me—whenever we make eye contact across the room, he smiles knowingly at me. It turns out, he was with me all along.

The End