An Unexpected Sailing Love Triangle

Sometimes, a little connection is the catalyst for greater things. A couple of weeks ago, we shared that Latitude 38 reader and contributor Justin Jenkins was ready to sell his 1970 Cheoy Lee Luders 36 Sisko. Justin placed a “For Sale” ad in Latitude’s Classy Classifieds, and we shared Justin’s story about what Sisko had done for him over his almost decade-long relationship with his boat: “This boat healed me. She challenged me, taught me patience, and gave me confidence.” Today we share Justin’s reflections on the almost synchronistic love triangle that led to finding Sisko’s new owner.

Shortly after I decided to sell Sisko, something happened that I never could have planned. It was my birthday, and I had a few friends down at the boat playing music. My friends Reuben and Corbin came over, and at some point I mentioned to Reuben that Sisko was for sale.

I’ve known Reuben for about six years. We first met at Ayala Cove on Angel Island, where we were both on moorings. He was aboard Adriana, the sailboat he still owns with a partner. We started talking, became friends, and have stayed connected ever since.

What I didn’t know until recently was that Reuben had had a crush on Sisko from the first time he saw her.

I immediately understood that, because the same thing happened to me with Simpatica, my Grand Banks trawler. Her previous owner, Anthony Galdes, is a good friend of mine. When I was living aboard at Oyster Point, I’d have dinner with Anthony and his lovely partner Maria on Simpatica, and I remember thinking what a beautiful boat she was. Years later, somehow, she became mine. Now Anthony has moved on to the Beneteau 47 Vivante, and he and I are getting ready to do the Baja Ha-Ha together aboard his new boat. Meanwhile, Reuben is bringing Sisko into the same marina as Simpatica. Somehow, instead of these boats taking us in different directions, they’ve brought this little sailing family even closer together.

After I told Reuben that Sisko was for sale, he started asking questions. He wanted to know about Alfred Luders, who designed her; her construction and history; and what it would be like to sail her with his family. Then he read the article about Sisko, and something clicked.

What became clear was that Reuben wasn’t simply looking for another sailboat. He appreciated what Sisko is: an older boat with remarkable craftsmanship and a history worth preserving. He wants a safe, well-built boat to sail with his kids, and he wants to learn how to care for her himself. He used two words that really stayed with me: stewardship and apprenticeship.

I’ve spent years learning from sailors, shipwrights and carpenters who were generous enough to share their knowledge with me. Now I’ll have the opportunity to do the same for Reuben — to walk him through the systems, teach him how I care for the brightwork, work on projects together, and pass along the little things I’ve learned about this particular boat.

Yesterday I took Sisko out for my last sail as her owner. There’s definitely sadness in that. This boat represents an enormous chapter of my life and a direction I once imagined my life taking. Letting her go means accepting that my course has changed. But sailing teaches you that it’s OK to change course.

What makes this transition so special is knowing Sisko is going to my homie. She’s staying in this beautiful sailing family of friends who sail together, help each other, teach each other, and genuinely care for one another.

Reuben notices the things that matter to me. He appreciates the old ship’s bell clock. He sees the craftsmanship in the joinery and the care that went into restoring and maintaining this boat. He understands that all those hours of work weren’t put into Sisko because I thought someday I’d get every dollar back. I did it because I cared about her.

There are things worth caring for simply because their value goes beyond money. The craftsmanship, history and adventures, and the people who have cared for these old boats, become part of their story. That’s what makes letting Sisko go feel so different from what I expected. I’m not just selling my boat. I’m passing the torch to another amazing human who will carry her spirit on. And I still get to be part of what comes next!

Feeling so grateful for everyone at Latitude 38. For Reuben and Anthony, for the readers, and for all the sailors, past, present and future. May we all do what we can to preserve the art of adventuring!