I have a confession to make: I recently read one of John Kretschmer’s books for the first time. 

You’d think someone who’s made a career out of reading and writing sailing articles would be quick to consume all the best sailing books out there—and Kretschmer’s certainly rank high on that list—but the truth is, after working on a sailing magazine all day, sometimes it’s refreshing to read a nice land-based tale when I’m off the clock. Don’t get me wrong, I’m chipping away at my nautical book list, but it’s at a pretty leisurely pace. 

Anyway, in the very first chapter of Sailing a Serious Ocean, Kretschmer cites a number of other authors as experts that his crewmates rely on for the best advice. I was surprised to find that all the names mentioned were folks whose articles that I have edited, whose invoices I have processed, whose books I have excerpted from in the past eight years with SAIL. Nigel Calder, Don Casey, Lin Pardey… 

More than anything, seeing our magazine reflected back at me in that best-of-the-best list underscored the legacy that I inherited alongside the title of editor-in-chief. 

I’m sorry to share that Wendy is no longer with SAIL. For the past three years she has brought salt and soul to the magazine with her wealth of experience and deep love of the sea. Under her leadership, we were the most awarded magazine in marine journalism for two consecutive years, and on a more personal note, she has been the best mentor, role model, and friend that I could have hoped to work with. Through nights and weekends, long travel days and tight deadlines, she has been the greatest helmsman this ship could have had.

In my eight years at SAIL, I have also worked under—and benefited from the experience of—Peter Nielsen and Adam Cort. Longtime readers may recall the stories of my first delivery, first time offshore, first time puking so hard it came out my nose…It hasn’t all been dolphins and sunsets, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. In many ways, this community has watched me grow up. Over the years, you have welcomed me onto your boats, trusted me to tell your stories, and sent me so, so many letters. 

In turn, I’ve learned a lot about you; seen photographs from your adventures, heard what excites you, and most of all, come to understand what this magazine means to its readers. I will never forget one letter that I received in my early days from a woman looking to replace her husband’s SAIL baseball cap because it was pretty threadbare but couldn’t be retired—after all, he and his groomsmen had worn them at their wedding. It was practically an heirloom. 

For my part, I used to read SAIL on the subway during my hour and a half long commute to a previous job, dreaming of someday working in marine journalism. Even before that, it was delivered to my school mailbox each month, and I’d cut out the photos I liked best to keep in a scrapbook. I cannot express how surreal it is to be responsible for that same magazine all these years later. 

There have been roughly 500 articles written and 5,000 miles sailed between here and there. A shipwreck, a viral media campaign, a couple dicey squalls, a few BWI wins, and countless memories. But I still wake up with that same dream most days, incredibly grateful to do what I do.

Transitions are always a challenge, and I welcome your feedback as we move forward. Filling Wendy’s seaboots is a daunting task, but I’m excited to have my turn at the helm. — Lydia

Lydia can be reached by email at lydia.mullan@firecrown.com or lydiaatsea on Instagram