2026 Season: Out of the Gate Swinging!

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. I acquired a boat for the season, reviewed and updated all of its safety requirements and class rules, and got back to training on the water myself.

Two weeks after renting the boat I was already back on the race course, competing in the Solo Guy Cotten regatta.

A year ago this was my first solo regatta. Everything was new. Nerve-wracking, exhausting. I had no idea how I would manage 48 hours alone offshore.

It’s amazing the difference in my comfort levels then and now. I know how my body will respond. The process is familiar. I feel empowered to be out there alone, in control of my boat.

My mindset is also different. Last year I was still proving to myself that I deserved to be there. Assuming my competitors were going to be better than me, I'd almost self-sabotage, letting my self-confidence cut me off at the knees.

This year I'm no longer a rookie. I've done this before. I know my strengths and weaknesses. I know I can sail fast, and smart. There's no doubt I have grit. And I'll be damned if I let someone sail by me. I'm seasoned now, and I can play this game too.

This resolve is met with an impressive fleet. In this event we had 39 competitors, including several veterans who have returned to the fleet between Vendee Globe campaigns and other big projects. It's going to be a fascinating year.

As for the Race Itself...

The regatta is composed of two days inshore racing, then one offshore race. The inshore is a lot to manage solo, but it serves very useful. Every stage of the Solitaire begins with a spectator course: A jostling for position to set you up for the next 3-5 days. Sometimes you execute everything right, and then look up to find a boat got overlap while you were maneuvering. It can be frustrating, but it's also useful for development. It exposes any weaknesses.

It's no surprise then that I look forward to the offshore course. I love the focus on strategy, endurance, and a healthy does of adventure that comes with any extended time offshore.

We began the race with a long upwind leg which immediately proved different from an average inshore race. A ridge was forecast to cross our course before the top mark, so it was a game of reading the weather around us (due to disagreeing forecasts) and calling our laylines before the shift.

When planning an offshore race we note the timings of "events" (changes in weather, when you need to be alert, or changing sails, etc). Or the opposite - when there are no events, it's important to get rest, eat food, take care of yourself or any problems on board. That was the plan for the second leg: Use the 10 hours on one board to recharge. Reality hit different with variable wind strength. I had boats close on my heel and I'd be danged if I was going to let them pass. Constatly trimming, I only managed 45 minutes of rest during this 36 hour race.

The next leg was a hairy downwind blast! 7 hours with the full main and A2 spinnaker, with wind up to 30 kts and a building sea state. We were often hitting 17 kts of boat speed.

I'm still managing my anxiety in these conditions. Sitting at the helm helps you feel in control: The sheets are in reach, and with the tiller in your hand you have immediate control of your wind and wave angles. When you have to trust the pilot and run to the bow to pass a sheet around the forestay, it can take some time to pony up. The more you do it the less crazy it seems. Overall it felt great to push the boat. I broached much less than some of my competitors and made some real gains.

Finally it was a blast reach to the finish. This part was fairly straightforward until we actually crossed the line. At that point we had to unseal our engines and drop sails in 30 kts of wind, a sea state, and a half mile until the lee shore, on a very dark night. That might have been the hardest part of the whole race!

The Budget: Not Closed, But In Motion

I’m still fundraising to close the full budget for this season.

Thanks to the past investment of my supporters last year, I've also been able to show marketing potential and have welcomed some small sponsors on board. You'll hear more about that in the coming weeks. This part is crucial to the future we are building. Thanks to continued support, we had enough to start the season and secure the boat. Enough to prepare and to stand on the first starting lines.

But for 2026, with a season stacked unusually early in the year, private support has proven essential.

If you’ve been considering supporting the campaign, now is a powerful moment. Every contribution pushes this project forward.

You can learn more at www.lushsailing.com/support.

What This Season Means

The goal isn’t just participation. It’s progression. I'm building on the many skills developed last year. This isn’t a repeat, but a continued effort in development. More preparation. More confidence. Smarter choices.

Thank you for helping me take another step forward. I’m proud to carry this community with me every mile offshore.

More updates soon — from the dock, from training, and from the race course.

Thank you to my supporters: