In any experience as varied and variable as spending time on the water, a lifetime of exploring and enjoyment awaits purely due to the richness of the endeavor, of the possibilities, and of the surroundings. Nowhere is that more true than in our extraordinary corner of the world. Being alone on a boat can offer the deepest personal connection with the natural world and your vessel. Indeed, sailors throughout history have understandably humanized their craft, honoring just such a relationship and partnership.

Venturing solo is extremely worthwhile, and such solitary journeys represent the height of desire and accomplishment for some boating enthusiasts. It certainly displays the impressive combination of a specifically self-sufficient skillset, while also embodying the most well-rounded knowledge and abilities since all facets of responsibility lie with a single person. It’s legitimately amazing. Anyone fueled by adventuring alone has my admiration and respect. Even if it’s not your main goal, there’s something absolutely magical about having a remote anchorage all to yourself, when other boats, humans, and signs of civilization are beyond the horizon or the mountains encircling you.

Still, no matter how appropriate it is to hold-up those remarkable solo voyagers, it is my unscientific but nonetheless firmly held belief that the best thing for almost everyone is to lean into the community, the society, of boat folk. It has certainly meant the world to me in tangible and intangible ways, and it delivers so much more than just warm fuzzies.

In this issue alone, we see the support and rewards of taking to the water with others. Whether that’s a very small crew like the paddling pair from the Shifting Gears column (page 22) or Lauren Upham’s family of four with two children under three years out for a New Year’s cruise (page 34); as well as the exchange of engagement, encouragement, and assistance taking place between those standing by to observe or lend a hand during a capsize drill (page 18); or among the Dancing Bear crew with such varied levels of experience but such equal passion for sailing (page 38). These are, of course, microscopic slices of the broader boating society pie, yet it all illuminates the enrichment of being part of a community. And that stuff adds up to something both special and powerful.

Then there’s the sailboat racers’ sector of our society, some of whom are recognized for their outstanding performances in this month’s Top 25 (page 44). Perhaps no segment is more dependent on one another—almost all race boats require a multi-person crew to share the endeavor, there is some (sometimes vast) outside volunteer support typically involved to put on races, and obviously racing is a game made ever-better by the participation of more fellow race boats. It’s no wonder that those who love racing sailboats tend to relish the camaraderie at least as much as the competition. The Top 25 does a great job of highlighting and celebrating the collective commitment to an activity across the wide range of boats, priorities, and people who share the water—even in that seemingly narrow pursuit.

It probably comes as no surprise that this is top of mind as we put together the issue that comes out just in time for the Seattle Boat Show—a gathering and festival of our region’s society of boat nuts past, present, and future, if ever there was one. We love the boat show, and will be there with bells on, please come visit us in booth West 3. Whether at the boat show, on the water, or in any interaction with the marvelous community of PNW boat folk, lean in—we’re all in this together and here for one another!

I’ll see you at the show and on the water,

Editor's letter Joe Cline