Hawk lays in her berth at Cypress Marine, a little boatyard on Cypress Creek off the Magothy River just north of Annapolis. We arrived here two days ago, after a nine-day passage from the Virgin Islands, motoring through the narrow entrance channel into the nearly landlocked Y-shaped cove surrounded by lovely houses fronted by wooden docks. We first passed through that channel and tied Hawk up in this slip in April of 1998 after her maiden voyage from Florida, when she was little more than a bare hull, and then we spent a bit over a year fitting the interior and finishing the boat. Ten years ago today, Hawk sailed out the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, bound for Newfoundland. Entering the Magothy River and then Cypress Creek two days ago, it felt as if we had stepped back in time, as if we had never left, as if all the years and all the miles had never happened.

As we backed into the slip so full of memories, we couldn't help but recall our last moments here. Beth had just sold her car, the last personal possession binding us to land, and as her car disappeared out the driveway she stepped aboard Hawk. Evans had the engine running and all but two docklines untied and coiled on the deck, removed from the pilings for the first time since Hawk had arrived in that slip more than a year before. Beth pulled in the last two lines, and we motored away from the dock, away from one life and toward another.

We hoped we would cruise aboard this boat for ten years. We hoped we would sail to Chile and spend at least a year in the archipelago on its west coast. We hoped we actually liked sailing in cold weather. We hoped we had the skills to keep ourselves and our boat safe. But we didn't know. We did know that we were once again giving up the security of a paycheck, health insurance and retirement savings, but we didn't know if we had any hope of supporting ourselves by writing from the boat. We knew we were leaving behind many conveniences including well-stocked supermarkets, showers with limitless hot water, washing machines and dishwashers, 24-hour shopping, the Internet, easy communication with family, mechanics and sailmakers... We left wondering if we were doing the right thing, walking away yet again from jobs and financial security, setting off knowing nothing for sure except that we would face uncertainty, risk and challenge.

Now we are decommissioning Hawk after a 75,000-nautical mile, ten-year voyage that has taken us around the world, as far north as the Arctic Circle and as far south as Cape Horn. We visited Chile twice and spent more than two years exploring that vast archipelago stretching from Cape Horn north for 1,000 miles. We've sailed some 15,000 nautical miles through the Southern Ocean. Our writing paid for most of our living expenses aboard, even if it didn't stretch to cover the expenses of maintaining the boat. Together we have faced down our fears, strengthened and deepened the bond between us, taken care of ourselves in the most remote corners of the globe, fixed problems we would have thought insurmountable and uncovered reserves of strength and determination we never suspected. We have also built friendships with extraordinary people around the globe, danced with albatrosses and whales on the open ocean and visited remote wilderness areas virtually unchanged since the days of Cook and Darwin. The sea has tested us again and again, humbled us often and punished us occasionally. But it has also rewarded us with perfect sailing days under a wide spread of canvas, with sunsets so beautiful they brought tears to our eyes, with the magic mystery of the green flash, with the fearsome beauty of giant waves breaking green in a storm.

We left this slip filled with doubts and fears. We return knowing we have been blessed to have the opportunity to make this voyage.

Now we are decommissioning Hawk for what will likely be six months or a year on the hard. Yesterday we took the mainsail and jib off, flaked them, and stowed them in the sail locker. We removed all the halyards, leaving messenger lines in their place. We took all the running rigging and removable hardware off the decks. We started emptying lockers and filling the trunk of the rental car. We have lived on this boat three times longer than we have lived anywhere else since we met more than twenty years ago. Beth has lived twice as long on this boat as she has lived anywhere in her entire life. We leave with regret, but we leave knowing that we will live aboard this boat again, that she is and remains an integral part of our lives. In the meantime, Hawk can have a well-deserved rest and some much needed TLC. If we cannot find "real" jobs in the next year, we may well be back aboard and heading out the Chesapeake again a year from now, bound for Greenland.

Don't worry - we're not signing off. We will continue to post to the website on topics related to offshore sailing and to our transition back ashore. When we finished our voyage aboard Silk we thought we were done with sailing. It took us only a few months to decide we had to leave again. We'll see how long we make it this time around.

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