Little Boat Big Ocean

The ocean has always been there for me. When I had nothing, it gave me work. When I didn’t feel like I belonged, it gave me a home. When I couldn’t stand my own thoughts, it gave me solace. What had I given it?

There has to be more.

Enter the Race to Alaska, a 750 mile unsupported, human powered race from Port Townsend, Washington to Ketchikan, Alaska, and my testing grounds for finding deeper meaning in the things I already do and love. Using the publicity afforded by the race along with the skills, connections, and privilege I already had, it was time to try something different. 

Partnering with the Pacific Wild, a nonprofit focused on advocacy and Indigenous-led stewardship in the Great Bear Rainforest and Sea, a friend and I chose to raise money and awareness for Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) in the region. MPAs and marine spatial planning are some of the greatest tools we have in a changing world. We’ve been using these policy techniques on land for centuries through systems like our National Parks. Now more than ever is the time to empower groups already rethinking the way we use our oceans through inclusive and comprehensive marine planning. Next, I found a small wooden boat rotting in a field and spent a few months restoring and modifying it for the race. Whenever possible, I used secondhand or repurposed equipment to reduce the ecological and financial cost of the trip.

Traveling through the unceded Coast Salish, Kwakwaka’ wakw, Wuikinuxv, Nuxalk, and Heiltsuk territories in a 16’ open, leaky boat, we bailed our way slowly up the coast. Long ago left behind by the fleet of expensive, fast, and relatively comfortable race boats, we focused on the intersection of wild beauty and the commercially extractive enterprises that rely upon this place. Concepts of self, misguided masculinity, privilege, and the paradox of a society whose declared values do not necessarily align with its actions are felt deeply when you spend a month only inches from the ocean that makes it all possible.

I personally believe that the greatest threat facing our oceans is our own collective apathy to its ongoing destruction. When you realize that all you have to do is “something” to make a positive change, the doubt and despair become manageable. Herein lies a call for action. Start a conversation. Learn something new. Donate time, money, expertise, effort, ANYTHING that fills up the bucket, drop by drop. The more the health and wellbeing of our oceans is in our public discourse, the more effort we will make, as a whole, to preserve and protect it.