Daniel H. Van Ginhoven

I intend to have you feel the wind at sea, to taste the salt on your lips, to hear the wave as he rushes toward you, to smell the sweet scent of land yet beyond the horizon. I want to put your hand on the smooth varnished spokes of the teak wheel so that you feel the living motion of this sailing yacht, and have you brace your feet against the roll of the ship as you reef the mainsail at sea.

But there is so much more than this. There is the beauty of quiet anchorages, in waters of such startling clarity that illusions of unreality are experienced. When looking from the shore, you can see not only the yacht above her waterline, but also see her full keel and the anchor chain arching downward from her bow. She can seem to be suspended in air, because the lagoon is invisibly so clear.

It is my intent, not just to have you hear my voice as you read this book, but if you wish, you can be part of this voyage.

It gives me pleasure, indeed honor, to welcome you aboard.