Sailing from Wisconsin to Michigan: Seasickness and Splendor

Last weekend, I sailed to Pentwater, Mich., from Sheboygan, Wis., a 60-mile crossing long desired but elusive. Sailing prams from the age of eight within the inner harbor, 420s in the outer harbor, and finally out into Lake Michigan proper, a sail to Michigan was that mythical maritime accomplishment that would one day happen — to arrive by sail along the stretch of coastline that mirrors Wisconsin’s, ever crouching beyond the eastern horizon. Twenty years had passed since taking up the tiller and mainsheet, and it was worth the wait.

For those who haven’t sailed, 60 miles may not sound like much — or it may sound like altogether too much. Certainly, in the hundreds of thousands of miles aboard naval vessels I’ve traveled, what we did sailing pales in absolute numbers. However, to travel by sail is as active an undertaking as the USS Carl Vinson’s movement was passive.

About the Author

Luther Ray Abel

Luther Ray Abel is an Associate Editor for National Review. A veteran of the U.S. Navy, Luther is a proud native of Sheboygan, Wis.

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Last weekend, I sailed to Pentwater, Mich., from Sheboygan, Wis., a 60-mile crossing long desired but elusive. Sailing prams from the age of eight within the inner harbor, 420s in the outer harbor, and finally out into Lake Michigan proper, a sail to Michigan was that mythical maritime accomplishment that would one day happen — to arrive by sail along the stretch of coastline that mirrors Wisconsin’s, ever crouching beyond the eastern horizon. Twenty years had passed since taking up the tiller and mainsheet, and it was worth the wait.

For those who haven’t sailed, 60 miles may not sound like much — or it may sound like altogether too much. Certainly, in the hundreds of thousands of miles aboard naval vessels I’ve traveled, what we did sailing pales in absolute numbers. However, to travel by sail is as active an undertaking as the USS Carl Vinson’s movement was passive.