It has been three weeks since we arrived home in Anacortes, Washington.
The crew of One Ocean sailed into Cap Sante Marina to a huge crowd on the docks, a boat parade, cheers, hugs, and a wonderfully warm reception at the Anacortes Yacht Club.
Thank you to all of you.
It truly was an incredible homecoming. After long periods of isolation at sea, you just don’t know who might be hearing about or following your project. You wonder if anyone is paying attention. You wonder if what you are doing matters.
But the support from home was so emotionally important.
Your kind messages. Your words of encouragement. Your questions. Your enthusiasm.
This project was, and always will be, a “we” project.
It took the hearts and souls of hundreds of people—people who volunteered, donated, shared our stories, opened doors, connected us with others, or simply believed in what we were trying to do.
Your passion to do something—to support something, to raise awareness, and to help create the next generation of ocean stewards—exceeded our wildest dreams.
There were so many of you following along, asking questions, looking for ways to help, and wanting to be part of something bigger.
Somewhere along the way, this project became a movement.
And then, suddenly, we were home.
There has been boat cleaning, boat repairing, more boat cleaning, unpacking, repacking, and trying to figure out exactly what we brought home with us.
There have been friends and family, walks in the forest, local boating, crab eating, quiet nights curled up on the couch with a remote control in my hand, and—perhaps one of the strangest luxuries of all—having absolutely nowhere I need to be at 0200.
There have also been lists.
- Presentations to schedule.
- Research to organize.
- Projects to finish.
- Data to organize.
- Stories to write.
- Ideas for what comes next.
It has been a wonderful whirlwind.
Especially walking into the local pub and being greeted with hugs. Having people say, “Congratulations!” and “Wow.” Hearing that they followed our journey on the tracker.
I am so grateful to be home.
And yet…
I miss the boat.
I miss the rhythm of life aboard One Ocean. The focus. The intensity. The simplicity of purpose.
On the boat, the world narrows.
You wake up. You check the weather. You check the boat. You check the crew. You eat. You sail. You collect data. You teach a class. You watch the horizon. You fix something. Some yoga time and perhaps even some writing time, then crew dinner, and sleep around your watch schedule.
And then you do it all over.
Everything matters.
There is very little room for the unnecessary.
But I especially miss the project.
For more than two years, it is what we have thought about, planned, slept on, dreamed about, and worked on.
There is momentum, and there is a need.
I don’t think what we started out there ends simply because we have arrived home.
In many ways, I think it was the beginning.
The beginning of deeper connections between researchers and educators, of new conversations about how we understand and protect our ocean, and of a much bigger effort to connect people with the incredible work already being done around us.
Our goal was to explore, conduct ocean research, connect with scientists and people doing meaningful work, and share what we were learning with classrooms and audiences through YouTube and other outreach.
And we did it.
But we couldn’t have done it without all of you.
Every student who joined a classroom. Every teacher who brought their students along. Every scientist who trusted us with their research. And every person who followed along, asked questions, shared a story, donated, volunteered, or simply watched.
You became part of the expedition.
And that connection is something we don’t want to lose.
So, What’s Next?
We are going to continue the journey.
Not necessarily by sailing another 28,000 nautical miles—at least not tomorrow.
Instead, we want to take what we learned and bring it closer to home.
We plan to travel up and down the Pacific Northwest, highlighting what is working, what isn’t, and the people who are doing something about it. We will continue sharing the incredible research and conservation work happening in our own region and reconnecting with the researchers, educators, scientists, students, sailors, and ocean advocates we met along the way.
Now, more than ever, we need to continue focusing on what we can do.
The crew of One Ocean sailed more than 28,000 nautical miles across oceans that are changing dramatically. We collected data alongside scientists and heard from researchers who are watching those changes unfold.
Arriving home was not an ending to this work.
It was the beginning of the next chapter.
One Ocean isn’t about going farther. Maybe it’s about looking closer.