Why Small-ship voyages ALWAYS FEEL LIKE HOME TO ME.

Chinook photo credit Emmie Martens somewhere in the Mediterranean

Long before I became a travel advisor, long before The Crafted Voyage was even an idea, there was a boat.

I grew up sailing the New England coast aboard a 60-foot Herreshoff built in 1916. She was a beautiful old classic, based out of Fairhaven, Massachusetts, and some of my earliest memories of travel began aboard her.

The Elizabeth Islands

There was something magical about seeing the world from the water.

We weren't simply trying to get from one place to another. We sailed into small harbors and coastal towns, watched familiar shorelines slowly disappear behind us, and woke up wondering what the day might bring. Life moved differently aboard a sailboat. You paid attention to the weather, the wind, the changing light and the rhythm of the sea.

Perhaps without realizing it, I was learning the way I would one day want to travel.

Slowly. Curiously. And with enough time and space to notice where I was.

The Journey Was Part of the Story

When you grow up sailing, you quickly learn that getting somewhere isn't simply transportation.

Getting there is part of the experience.

There is anticipation in approaching a harbor from the water. A coastline reveals itself gradually. A lighthouse appears in the distance. Sails come into view. Eventually you're close enough to see houses tucked along the shore and activity around the docks.

Mom & Dad aboard the Chinook

You arrive with a sense of place before you've even stepped ashore.

I think that's one of the reasons small-ship travel still speaks to me so deeply today.

Whether it's an intimate sailing yacht slipping into a Mediterranean harbor, a small expedition ship exploring a remote coastline, a river vessel moving quietly through the European countryside, or a barge drifting along a French canal, there is an intimacy to traveling this way that is difficult to replicate on land.

The vessel doesn't separate you from the destination.

It becomes part of how you experience it.

Small Ships Let You Get Closer

I'm drawn to beautiful places, of course. But I've always believed the most memorable travel experiences aren't necessarily the biggest or the grandest.

They're often the ones that allow us to get a little closer.

A tiny harbor instead of a massive port. A conversation with someone who lives there. Lunch at a family-run restaurant. Wandering through a village without feeling the need to rush on to the next thing.

Tarpaulin Cove

Small ships can open the door to places and experiences that larger vessels simply can't.

And once ashore, that's where I believe the real magic begins.

The art. The food. The makers. The history. The landscapes. The people you meet along the way.

The ship may take you there, but everything you experience along the way becomes your voyage.

Maybe I've Come Full Circle

It's funny how our earliest experiences have a way of finding us again.

Years later, after a career creating travel experiences centered around art, culture and connection, I've found myself returning to the water — and building The Crafted Voyage around the kind of travel that has meant something to me for most of my life.

Small ships. River journeys. Sailing yachts. Beautiful old-world barges.

Journeys where the pace allows you to look a little closer and where getting there can be every bit as memorable as the destination itself.

Perhaps that's why this next chapter feels less like choosing a niche and more like coming home.

Because for me, small-ship travel isn't simply a way to see the world.

It's where my own love of travel began.