59º North evolves
Note: I (Andy) wrote the following article way back in January of 2018, before we even first took ISBJØRN to Svalbard for the first time, and rather than re-write it completely, I figured I’d keep it, then add to it. So read this first, then continue on for an update at the end to bring us up to date…
JANUARY, 2018It’s minus 6º C outside the night we got back from the west coast, our first visit to the boat since leaving her in September. ISBJØRN is hauled out at Vindö Marin, inside the winter warm hall workshop getting a major refit. New engine, new tanks, new radar, diesel heater and a hot shower, among other projects. After more than 20,000 miles under our stewardship - from New England to as far south as Grenada; to Cuba, Bermuda and Newfoundland; and across the Atlantic to the Azores, Scotland and Sweden — ISBJØRN is getting ready to head north in 2018, to Svalbard, on her most ambitious expedition yet. Mia & I are at once excited and scared, yet full of curiosity and the motivation to keep exploring.
— Andy
ASTRONAUTS ON THE HIGH SEASGrowing up, I really wanted to be an astronaut. And I kind of am one - I often say that offshore sailing is as close as us ‘normal’ humans will ever get to space travel. At sea, as in space, we cover long distances through harsh environments in fragile, self-sufficient vessels, entirely dependent on our own resources, planning, cunning and ingenuity to see us safely to new worlds. Seeking the unknown. That’s why we do it.
In concrete terms, Mia & I had always strived to find a way to get paid to do what we love and still have the flexibility to pursue our hobbies outside sailing and spend time with family and friends. I’ve always known I wanted to own a bigger boat and take people sailing.
I grew up sailing on cruising boats my parents’ owned on the Chesapeake Bay in the summertime, all named Sojourner, which means, basically, ‘traveler’. Not so different to archipelago cruising - protected, brackish water with thousands of miles of coastline - just much hotter. In 1993, my parents took my sister & I out of school for a year - I was 9, Kaitie 7 - and we spent the fall cruising down the east coast and crossing the Gulf Stream to spend the winter in the Bahamas. Those were my first memories of sailing, my first real memories as a human-being really.
My mom, who died of brain cancer in 2012 when she was just 62, was the philosopher in the family, and inspired both my sister and I to “do what you love, and the money will follow.” Dad, ever practical, drilled into us that “there is always room at the top.” Meaning, whatever you choose to do, be the best at it, and you’ll always have a job. Powerful motivation.
In 2006, Mia & I met backpacking in New Zealand, where she stepped on a sailboat for the first time in her life and hasn’t looked back.
The astronaut in me, now with a partner from the other side of the Atlantic, quickly outgrew the Chesapeake. I yearned for the open sea, wanted to experience a limitless horizon, a long ocean swell, the magical philosophy told by the heroes of the books I devoured. Moitessier’s Long Way, Sterling Hayden’s Wanderer. Mia, a traveler at heart, bought into it too.
We bought and outfitted a CLASSIC 35-FOOT YAWL WE CHRISTENED ARCTURUS, and SAILED HER ACROSS THE ATLANTIC from the Chesapeake to Sweden via the northern route, a week after we were married. The voyage was not only a test of our own mettle, but also a deliberate attempt to gain some experience and credibility, with the idea we’d be continuing in ocean sailing professionally.
Mia & I continued to find work in sailing, managing cruising rallies for World Cruising Club (who host the ARC), but were doing less and less actual sailing. When we got offshore, it was delivering other people’s boats, in various states of seaworthiness (or lack thereof), on tight schedules that weren’t our own.
59º NORTH EVOLVESWe found an opportunity to test the concept of these paid offshore passages. The owner of a gorgeous Shannon 43 ketch, s/v Serentity, offered us the use of his boat for free, no questions asked. An entrepreneur himself, he wanted to help us start our business. We posted the passages on 59-north.com, which at the time was just our blog and podcast page. They sold out almost immediately.
Fast forward to Christmastime, 2014. We were living in a modest, historic house in Lancaster, PA, the heart of Amish country, our ‘base.’ Close enough to Annapolis - our sailing base - but far enough away to be affordable. The Serenity passages were sold out, but the trips hadn’t yet happened (they were scheduled for February, 2015). By then, I was sure the concept would work.
Between Christmas & New Year's I did a quick yachtworld.com search for Swan’s under $150k, and four 1970’s-era S&S 48’s popped up. I’m a sucker for pretty boats, and the S&S Swan’s are the prettiest of them all. I hastily put together a quick business plan spreadsheet.
Two months later, Mia & I were dockside in Connecticut with my dad, Dennis, and our friend Tom Herrington, applying ISBJØRN’s new decals. We untied the dock lines the next day, and during a frigid April, sailed her three days south to Annapolis.
CHALLENGES AT THE STARTISBJØRN was a bootstrapped endeavor. Mia & I were starting from scratch, with a 45-year-old boat and an unproven business plan. The whole thing was self-financed - we mortgaged ISBJØRN, then sold the house in Amish Country, and eventually Arcturus. When you don’t have a Plan B, you simply figure out how to make Plan A work. You have to.
After a short but successful ‘mini-season’ in 2015, when we sailed from ANNAPOLIS UP TO LUNENBURG, NOVA SCOTIA and then down to the Caribbean, our first full season in 2016 was brutal.
THE FIRST PASSAGES IN THE CARIBBEAN WERE HARD. The trade winds were ripping, and our first planned trip from Tortola south to Grenada got off to a rough start. The weather deteriorated about halfway south, with very squally conditions kicking up a gnarly sea, ISBJØRN slamming and crashing to windward, close-hauled and not even laying the course in the stiff south-easterly. Stuff kept breaking, stuff we hadn’t refit but in hindsight should have, like the mainsail and the genoa roller furling. Ultimately we had to turn back to Tortola, and right off the bat, our schedule was in shambles. Only weeks later, in our first Caribbean 600 race, the rudder bearings failed and we had to abandon the race.
To top it off, I got appendicitis offshore later that summer en route from Annapolis to Lunenburg. After three days of trying to ignore the symptoms, I finally could no longer stay on my feet. We diverted to Newport. The pain & discomfort in my belly was exaggerated by the demoralized feeling I felt at yet another major setback that looked like it might scuttle our entire summer in the Canadian Maritimes.
THE TURNING POINTMia was the hero, stepping in as captain. She assigned Bruce, the most experienced of that crew, as watch leader and helmsman. Mia simultaneously navigated, communicated with the US Coast Guard via sat phone and took care of me down below.
Mia and the crew got me to a hospital for emergency surgery without outside assistance, with Bruce piloting ISBJØRN expertly onto the ferry dock in the pre-dawn, rainy darkness where an ambulance was waiting. My dad, also a captain, came to the rescue too, driving up to Newport, as soon as he heard I was sick. He jumped onboard ISBJØRN and less than 24-hours after pulling into Newport, continued the passage with Mia and the crew to Lunenburg while I recovered ashore at my cousin’s house in Boston.
ISBJØRN’s diversion to Newport would prove to be the low point in 2016, and the tide quickly turned. Seven days after my surgery, I was back aboard in Lunenburg, leading the next expedition to Newfoundland. Our summer was saved, and we were stoked with confidence having managed a real emergency at sea with professional aplomb.
And through it all, our crew understood. Not a single person canceled on those first trips of 2016 when they easily could have. I even gave them the opportunity to. And the emergency-at-sea turned out to be a highlight for the Lunenburg crew. What a learning experience!
Fast forward to 2017, and what a different year it has been. Mia & I are much freer now, least of all with time. 2016 was ridiculous in hindsight - we were still working almost full-time for World Cruising Club, AND had a full calendar of passages on ISBJØRN, which kept breaking on us early in the year, AND Mia was in the midst of getting her American citizenship AND my sister was getting married in Key West AND I was the one officiating the wedding!
Our second shot at the Caribbean 600 race got 2017 off to a flying start. I was at the helm as we rounded the last mark at the little rock spire Redonda, north of Montserrat, and started the final beat upwind and east towards Antigua. After the horn sounded announcing our finish, I turned to Dan Shea, who had raced with us the year before during our big failure, high-fived and hugged him, then did the same to Paul Exner, our racing skipper and such an important part of the boat and the business. Man we were pumped!
Once anchored in Falmouth Harbour we spent the rest of that early dawn drinking rum and singing songs and generally reveling in the accomplishment we’d all worked so hard for. ISBJØRN performed flawlessly and our crew was outstanding, both as sailors and as people.
2017 kept getting bigger and better. With 100% of our time now devoted to ISBJØRN and 59 North, we started added more projects and events to the calendar and published our 2019 calendar. The bookings started coming in immediately, and the whole thing felt like it might actually be working.
Mia & I spent a wonderful two weeks unwinding and preparing for our Atlantic crossing in St. Croix in the USVI. We spent the days swimming off the boat and exploring the island by scooter, slowly doing the small boat projects that ISBJØRN needed before embarking across the open ocean again. We enjoyed the slower pace of a backpacker’s life there in St. Croix, taking time to experience that landfall instead of rushing on to the next.
We experienced our first real gale a few days into the crossing from Bermuda to the Azores, with westerly winds sustained over 40 knots, 12-15 foot seas rolling in from behind us. With her new sails nicely reefed and snugged down, ISBJØRN proved her mettle as an all-time oceangoing boat. We were fast and comfortable, knocking off double-digit surfing runs regularly and ticking off the miles. After the initial calm when we motored out of Bermuda for the first 15 hours, I didn’t start the engine again until we pulled into the dock in Horta some 1900 miles and 11 full days later.
2017 ended with perhaps the best trip we’ve ever had on any boat with our Scotland-Sweden expedition. The combination of an amazing crew in Karl, Will, Steve & Rhea, the extraordinarily adventurous & positive personality of our photographer James, the scenery and the fact that the longest ocean legs were now behind us made it special. The sailing was great, the company was great, the whisky was great, the weather was gnarly at times, and we ended the whole thing by sailing from mystical Fair Isle, a Shangri La of sorts for us, and a place that has been on our radar for years, to Shetland and then on to Mia’s home waters in Sweden across a rather friendly North Sea.
THE WORLD AWAITS
While we’re stoked to be heading into the wilderness up north in the Arctic, it will be sad to sail away from Sweden in May. We’ve only just scratched the surface here, particularly on the west coast, where Marstrand has been the center of our world. We haven’t even sailed into Smogen yet, let alone the rest of Bohuslan. That might be the biggest downside of our business with the boat — we offer offshore sailing passages to people who might otherwise never get the chance to cross an ocean on a well-found boat. We often miss out on many of the destinations we sail to, getting only a glimpse of our landfalls in the short stopovers. Most of the three or four days between passages are spent doing laundry and re-provisioning. But it’s worth it. We publish our passage calendar out two years or more in advance, and sitting down at the computer to plan with Google Earth and a copy of ‘World Sailing Routes,’ I have to pinch myself that this is what I get to do for a living. After our season in the Arctic, we’ll return to the Caribbean in the winter of 2019 and re-trace our passages from 2016, sailing north first to Newfoundland via Cuba, Key West, Bermuda & Annapolis, then right back south to the Caribbean in the fall. By the end of 2019 we’ll be at a crossroads — do we go east, returning for another loop in the North Atlantic? Or west, which has captured my imagination of late, through the Panama Canal and into the South Pacific, ultimately aiming for New Zealand where Mia & I first met? Therein lies the beauty of what we do. We get to decide. And we get to share it with the amazing crew who sign on to sail aboard ISBJØRN and put their trust in us.
December 2023My how far we’ve come…while I won’t attempt to go through every little detail that led us to the here and now, clearly a lot has changed and evolved at 59º North since I first wrote this update almost 6 years ago. I was proud of the fact then that we’d sailed 20,000+ miles on ISBJØRN. Little did I know that in just four short seasons, from 2019-2022, including an almost-lost year with COVID, our second boat ICEBEAR would sail a whopping 43,000+ miles! And that in that same timespan we’d go through COVID, Mia & I would have a kid, we’d enter, then back out of the Ocean Globe Race, and wind up spending a year and all of our money (and then some) on refitting our dream-boat, the Farr 65 that would become FALKEN…whew!
ICEBEAR, THE OGR FALSE-START & falken originsThere are two moments that most affected the path of 59º North. The first was in 2019, when I was standing on the dock in Key West with Matt Rutherford, Mia and Ben Doerr getting ready to sail both boats up to Bermuda. It was early days of the two-boat program, and my friend (and former 59º North crew, how we’d actually met) Ryan called me. He’s much more ‘business’ minded that me, and was asking if I’d ever thought of having other investors involved in the business beyond just myself and Mia. I didn’t even fully understand what that meant, but was like, ‘sure!’ So Ryan became our first outside investor, kicking in some cash in exchange for 10% in 59º North and a seat at the decision-making table. At the same time, three other friends also got involved, including August, who now actually owns ISBJØRN and is an integral part of the whole business. So there was that moment, of considering growing the core business beyong Mia and me.
Fast forward to late 2021, at-sea en route to England on ICEBEAR on what was a very rough passage from Sweden. I was pretty burned out, and we had this OGR thing looming, which had gotten increasingly stressful for me as I started realizing the shortcomings of ICEBEAR as a suitable boat not only for the RTW race, but also for the sustainability of the business itself. During that passage two things happened — 1. I decided to give up on the OGR, even despite having spent $50,000 just to enter it (which was non-refundable). and 2). we had another outside investor appear, a crewmember on that trip, who just randomly mentioned that if I ever wanted to do anything cool, he’d be interested in helping.
Well, as it happened, I had long had my eye on this Farr 65 that had been for sale for several years, and we even considered buying it instead of the Swan 59. But it needed a complete and total rebuild to make it the kind of cruising boat we wanted to have, and we never had the money. Now, all of a sudden, it looked like we did. (In fact, the FALKEN project was financed not just through equity investment, but also from another former-crew-turned-friend who had originally financed the purchase of ICEBEAR through a more standard loan agreement. When ICEBEAR sold, instead of paying him back, we transferred the loan balance onto FALKEN).
Without naming names, this new former-crew-turned-friend-turned-investor would help take 59º North from an Andy & Mia, mom-and-pop shop to (almost) a real business. I started learning how to make proper budgets and financial projections, we did a business valuation and made a cap table and all sorts of other business-ey sounding things. It was like going to grad school. I loved it, and still love it.
Today, 59º North is still 60% owned by Mia and me, but we now have 5 other outsiders (including August) who own parts of the business. That all happened very serendipitously and I’m really proud of what we’ve built. There’s a lot more to the Farr 65 story, but that second moment, simultaneously dropping out of OGR and buying the Farr was the second huge turning point.
The Pacific & BeyondI wrote at the end of that first history piece about going to the Pacific and beyond one day, and that day is now in sight. In 2018, I would have lost a bet if you said what year would we actually do it! 2025, while seemingly just over the horizon now, would have felt like an eternity in 2018.
Yet here we are, with a published Pacific calendar and a plan to head across the equator for the first time in little more than a year.
The PeopleThe coolest part about building the business has been building the team. No longer is it just Mia & me talking to each other (though we still do that daily!). We’re now surrounded by a world-class group of people who have also become our best friends, from the team of 7 owners we have built to the professional sailors we now have on staff. All of that is such a cool part of this, and the most fun part of building a real business out of what originally started as a small passion project to get paid to sail. Thanks to everyone who’s believed in us these years to make something truly unique and rewarding.