From the shores of southern Turkey on the same docks where we bought Tamarisk three years ago, and with no miles remaining in our voyaging plans, there’s no longer any denying that our around the world sailing dream has officially reached its end. Fortunately this end has been a cause for celebration… unlike many exotic pursuits humans might choose to undertake, ours had a clear beginning, an undeniably successful termination, and the most amazing three year experience a human could possibly ask for in between. So in recent weeks we’ve celebrated our circumnavigation with family and close friends, first in Rhodes, and then again here in Marmaris as we’ve been preparing Tamarisk for a new adventure in the hands of a new owner (shameless plug: yes, it’s for sale). So of course this is a particularly bittersweet (perhaps bi-polar) moment… in some ways the highest high we’ve experienced in our voyage, and in other ways the lowest low. There’s a famous quote we think applies particularly well to the moment we find ourselves in today: “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened”.
As we write the final words of this chapter of our lives, we look back on what we’ve learned, how much we’ve changed, and how appreciative we are for the new perspectives we’ve adopted along the way. Overall it’s been an extraordinarily humbling experience… the countless moments of extreme vulnerability in unknown places, with unknown people, or under unknown circumstances is no doubt at the root of this sensation. In three years of voyaging we’ve felt like fumbling amateurs almost every step of the way, constantly beyond the edge of our comfort zone, and rarely feeling any sensation of expertise or even familiarity. That experience day to day for three years in a row of living in an unknown chaos is the one that’s changed us more than any other. It’s forced us to open our eyes and our minds to wider fields of view, forced us to make an endless number of spur of the moment decisions, forced us to adapt, make allies, defend against enemies, break laws, barter with locals, scavenge, repair things, bribe officials, seek shelter, and run like hell. In a word, it’s forced us to sample, enjoy, and suffer a larger part of the human experience than most people will ever get to know. And when we add together our millions of seemingly inconsequential daily experiences, we discover a whole that’s far greater than the simple sum of its parts. The experience as a whole has changed us in one simple but profound way: it’s made us comfortable with the unfamiliar and has put us at peace, despite not knowing what’s going to happen next. That’s a perspective change that we’re incredibly grateful for, and if there’s one reason we’d encourage anyone to pursue their own adventure into the uncertainty of the big blue world, that’s the one.
So the time has come to turn the page and move on to what comes next in our lives. Saying goodbye and moving on is something we’ve become necessarily good at in recent years… circumnavigations don’t work so well any other way. That means this will be our final entry into these pages. We want to extend our gratitude to all our loyal followers who’ve watched our journey, sent words of encouragement, dispensed advice when we were in need, and brought a new dimension to our adventure that was wholly unexpected at the beginning…. your support gave meaning to our voyage, and encouraged us to build this archive that will remain permanently here on these pages.
So to borrow a phrase we’ve used to end countless conversations on the radio with the many invisible friends we’ve met at sea in recent years: Tamarisk Out.