Jenn Dalton's Blog Posts

One Ocean is currently 340 nautical miles off the coast of Chile. We left Callao on Wednesday evening and—somehow—it’s already Sunday. We’ve been averaging 120 nautical miles a day heading south. Conditions have been kind, and once we cleared 150 miles offshore, it felt as though we were completely

The lights of Lima remain off our port beam as we glide south toward Chile through soft, calm water. The night sky is speckled with southern constellations, and the moisture in the air makes everything feel damp. It’s 12:30 a.m., and I’ve just started my midnight to four watch. I couldn’t sleep

I woke this morning to calm waters—the quietest and flattest I have seen in a long while on this expedition. The early morning sun burned through a layer of fog, not thick, just enough to bead dew across the deck and leave a damp chill in the air. It was my early morning watch aboard One Ocean as we

It was the night of our equator ceremony when I thought, for certain, we were being taken over by pirates. My heart leaped into my throat as I remembered Mark’s words… never ever let anyone board this vessel. When a boat rapidly approached One Ocean at night—men yelling and pointing a green laser

When we made the decision to turn right and transit the Panama Canal, we based it on three factors: finances, weather, and time. The weather was against us and we were storm-weary. We weren’t going to make Uruguay for Christmas, and our funds were nearly gone. So we turned toward the Canal to keep

It had been years since I first sailed through the Guna Yala archipelago (formerly the San Blas Islands) with Sarah, Paige, and John Dalton aboard his catamaran, Blue Bamboo. We always said we’d come back, and being here again has been unexpectedly emotional. I hear Sarah and Paige’s laughter in

One Ocean finally made it to Bocas Del Toro, Panama, surfing in on an easterly wind and a string of squalls—right up to the channel entrance. We even managed to arrive with daylight to spare, which felt like winning a small lottery. Normally I’m grateful for our electronics when entering new ports

St. Croix to Panama We seem to be storm magnets — and flying-fish magnets… especially me. One Ocean has been surfing through gusts into the mid-40s with huge, heaving waves. Who knew the Caribbean Sea could throw punches like that? The “Christmas Winds” — the seasonal trades get stronger as the

We left Culebra with Antigua on the horizon and a clean plan: slip past the island, push out to the windward side of the Caribbean chain, and begin our long run south toward Uruguay. The trades had other plans. Predicted 15–17 knots became a relentless 20+ from the E/SE, gusting over 30. The seas

Still bruised from our crossing south across the Atlantic, Tess, Mark, Charley, and I had just about finished repairing One Ocean from the beating she took when I first heard whispers about a hurricane forming to the south. We were at dinner at Wahoo’s in St. George’s, Bermuda — celebrating our

During our crossing from Lockeport, Nova Scotia to Bermuda, One Ocean and crew faced a storm that lasted 3 days with wind up to almost 70 knots and waves larger than their 48 foot ketch. This is a glimpse into what the team of four was dealing with while out there. I wrote this in a text to a friend

The wind had been rising all night. I lay in my bunk, listening to the familiar hum of One Ocean’s hull slicing through the waves, but I couldn’t sleep. It was still two hours before my watch, yet the pitch of the wind told me conditions were changing. We’d been short-handed the night before, a