This is not a casual question, and it's not a metaphor. I am actively recruiting a real sailing partner for the Blue Rim 5 — a multi-year expedition through some of the most demanding and most beautiful water on earth — 31 countries, 31 flags, 1,302 days minimum. I need a partner, not a passenger. If that's you, read every word on this page and apply at the bottom.
A song for the woman who chooses the life.
She wasn't imagined simply as a beautiful woman. She was imagined from the life of Catamaran Dan himself — his history, personality, adventures, contradictions, ambitions, and the life he is still determined to live.
Dan served in the U.S. Navy aboard submarines. He spent decades in technology and project management, earned graduate degrees, taught sailing, held a Coast Guard captain's license, became an advanced diver, traveled, explored, and somehow never lost his fascination with what might exist beyond the next horizon.
And now there is Rim Run 5. Rather than settling quietly into a conventional retirement, Dan is preparing to take a 17-foot Hobie Getaway beach catamaran on a multiyear sailing expedition through the Caribbean and beyond — living close to the water, exploring different cultures, meeting people, making music, and discovering whatever waits around the next point of land.
There is also a touch of Viking mythology running through his world. The Nevado Raiders. Huginn and Muninn, the legendary ravens. Shield Maidens. Explorers. Sailors. Warriors. People willing to leave familiar shores without knowing exactly what they will find.
So the woman sitting on that catamaran couldn't simply be beautiful. She had to look as though she belonged there.
She needed strength without sacrificing femininity or sensuality. She needed the face of someone who had actually lived. Someone comfortable with sunshine on her face, wind tearing through her hair, saltwater on her skin and an unknown coastline somewhere beyond the horizon.
That is why her long silver-blonde hair is partly braided and partly surrendered to the wind. Her appearance is athletic, feminine and unmistakably human. There is experience in her face. She looks like a woman who has accumulated stories rather than spent her life trying to erase the evidence that she has lived one.
The Nordic tattoos, jewelry and shield connect her to the Viking spirit, but she isn't covered in fantasy armor. Heavy armor has little place aboard a Hobie Getaway sailing through tropical waters. Instead, she is something between Shield Maiden, sailor, adventurer and free spirit.
Her shield is important. It represents strength, but she isn't hiding behind it. She doesn't appear frightened. She doesn't look as though she needs rescuing. And she certainly doesn't look like she's waiting for somebody else to decide where her life is going.
She simply sits on the hull of the Getaway, looking toward the horizon. And perhaps that is the most important part of the entire image.
That is Catamaran Dan's Shield Maiden. She wasn't created from a description of his perfect woman. She was created from a description of the man himself — and the life he has chosen to keep living.
People ask who this expedition is meant to impress. The answer is one person — me. Not the sailing community. Not social media. Not institutions, sponsors, or strangers with opinions about what constitutes a worthy adventure. Three decades of work — on submarines, in boardrooms, on the water, and in the kind of places that reshape how a man sees the world — have produced a value set that doesn't need external validation. The standard is internal. Always has been.
What that means in practice: the planning is meticulous, the preparation is relentless, and the execution is measured against one question — did I do this right? Not fast. Not impressively. Right. The sea is an honest judge and a poor audience. It doesn't care about the narrative. It rewards preparation, punishes arrogance, and has no interest in anyone's personal brand. That suits this expedition perfectly.
The highest loyalty here is to humanity itself — not to a tribe, a nation, a religion, a politics, or an ideology. The mission underneath every mile of this route is the advancement, protection, and survival of human civilization and the natural systems that sustain it. The Shield Maiden who belongs on this boat understands that instinctively. It doesn't need to be explained.
This is not a sailing trip. This is not a sabbatical. This is the Blue Rim 5 — three sequential expeditions aboard Shamrocket, a 17-foot Hobie Getaway catamaran with a 24-inch draft, built to go places no keelboat ever will. Here is the full scope, unburied.
Departs Palafox Pier, Pensacola, Florida — November 1, 2026. The opening expedition runs through the Bahamas, the full Eastern Caribbean arc, Trinidad & Tobago, the ABC Islands, and completes at Isla Mujeres, Mexico. No schedule. No deadline. Every stop earned.
A round-trip circuit departing Puerto Aventuras, Mexico — through Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Aruba, Bonaire, and Curaçao, and back. Shamrocket portages at Panama — never canal transit. The most biodiverse coastal water in the Western Hemisphere.
The Pacific run begins at Panama, portages to the Pacific side, and heads south — Ecuador, Peru, Chile (south terminus), then north through Central America, Mexico Pacific coast, the complete Sea of Cortez, California, Pacific Northwest, and terminates at Victoria, BC. After Pac, Shamrocket returns to Panama and portages back to the Caribbean — where she stays.
I'm going to tell you exactly what this is before I tell you why it's worth it. That's respect, and it's how this whole expedition works.
The Blue Rim 5 is not a vacation that never ends. It is a continuous, live-aboard expedition — structured, disciplined, and purpose-driven. We sail 31 countries on a 17-foot Hobie Getaway catamaran. We anchor in places most sailors never find. We dive. We explore. We move when the weather says move and stay when the place is worth staying.
Some days are luminous. Some are long and wet and physically demanding. Some anchorages are paradise. Some are sketchy. Weather windows are not suggestions — they are decisions that determine whether you sleep or sail through the night.
The boat is small. The ocean is not. The mission is real. There is no support crew. There is no shore team waiting. At the core, there are two people on a catamaran, and both of them need to know what they're doing.
If that made you lean forward instead of back — keep reading.
I'm not writing a job description. I'm describing a person. If you read this list and recognize yourself, that recognition matters more than any resume.
The expedition carries a Brazilian timbau and bongos. If the Shield Maiden brings her own musical talent — voice, guitar, any instrument — there is no reason we won't be writing and recording original music at anchor across 31 countries and sharing it with the world. Every anchorage has its own sound. Every crossing has its own rhythm. The right partnership writes the soundtrack as it goes.
Musical talent is not a requirement. But if it's part of who you are, bring it. There will be a stage at every sunset.
I mean that plainly. Not as a sales pitch. As a statement about what this expedition actually is for the person who's right for it.
The full Blue Rim 5 — the Bahamas, the Eastern Caribbean, the Western Caribbean circuit, the Pacific coast from Panama to Victoria BC, the Galápagos, the Sea of Cortez, and the Caribbean again to stay. Every flag earned at sea level, on a 17-foot catamaran, two people.
Whale sharks in the Sea of Cortez. Bull sharks in Belize. Humpbacks off Colombia. Galápagos marine iguanas. Pacific kelp forests. Caribbean reef systems that most sailors sail over without stopping. You are not watching this on a screen — you are in it, every day, for years.
The expedition is documented in real time — photos, writing, field notes, the whole arc of it. You are part of a story being told to the world as it happens. Your perspective is part of the permanent record. The Shield Maiden is not background. She is one of the two protagonists.
Not a hierarchy. Not a captain and crew. A two-person team where both people carry the mission and both people carry each other. That's rare. That's what this is designed to be — from Pensacola to La Paz and beyond.
The expedition runs on good judgment, not a calendar. We don't push north in hurricane season. If a place is worth an extra month, we give it an extra month. 1,302 days is the minimum — not the ceiling.
Most people spend their lives talking about what they might do someday. November 1, 2026 is the day. 31 countries is the scope. And twenty years from now, you will know exactly who you were and what you did with the time you had.
The Blue Rim 5 is more than an expedition — it is a story being written in real time, one anchorage at a time. The Living Saga is the narrative record of everything that happens on the water: the places, the people, the encounters, and the two lives at the center of it. The Shield Maiden is not background. She is one of the two protagonists.
Read The Living Saga →If you've read this far and the answer is yes — not "maybe someday," not "that sounds interesting" — but a genuine, clear yes — then write to me. Tell me who you are. Tell me what you've done on the water. Tell me what draws you to 31 countries and 1,302 days on a 17-foot catamaran. I'll read every word.
To Apply, Send the Following to nevadoraiders@gmail.com:
1. A bio — who you are, and specifically how your background and experience relate to the activities of the Rim Run expedition: sailing, seamanship, diving, physical readiness, storytelling/filmmaking, and life aboard a small boat for years at a time.
2. A full-body photo taken within the last 30 days.
Departing November 1, 2026 • Palafox Pier, Pensacola • 31 Countries • 1,302 Days Minimum • (928) 250-9763