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Originally published February 8, 2012 at 10:05 PM | Page modified February 9, 2012 at 4:18 PM

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One man's audacious pursuit of sailing history

It is hard to fathom what Matt Rutherford is attempting to do: sailing 25,000 miles, through some of Earth's most treacherous ocean, on a 36-year-old boat best suited to weekend sailors.

The Washington Post

About the sailboat

Length overall: 27 feet, 1 inch

Length waterline: 23 feet

Beam: 8 feet

Draft: 3 feet, 10 inches

Ballast: 2,017 pounds

Displacement: 5,070 pounds

Sail area: 341 square feet

Headroom: 5 feet, 10 inches

Fuel: 9 U.S. gallons

Water: 18 U.S. gallons

Designer: Per Brohall

Year: 1964

Builder: Larsson Marine

Source: Blue Water Boats

Information

Matt Rutherford's blog:

www.solotheamericas.org

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Now here's a guy I admire. All the best, Matt. He may not suffer as much as Ernest did... MORE
Matt, keep scratchin' the back stay. MORE
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By now, about 20,000 miles into this audacious odyssey, nearly everything onboard Matt Rutherford's boat is either flat-out busted, rotted through, waterlogged beyond repair or otherwise reduced to ballast. If the insidious Arctic fog didn't do the job, seeping into every crevice of the 27-foot sailboat and all its humble contents, the rogue waves near Cape Horn surely did.

He's down to one pair of pants, the rest having fallen victim to a black mold infestation that also cost him every book he had carried on board, since he set out from Annapolis, Md., in June, on a half-crazy mission to circumnavigate the Americas alone and nonstop.

The four solar panels he had hooked up to power his electronics? Busted, one by one. The canvas dodger, which protects the cabin from waves and spray? Shredded by a huge wave in the Bering Sea. His freighter radar, which alerts him to the presence of huge ships? Destroyed. His Kindle reader? Kaput.

His shotgun is half-rusted, but that's not important anymore. It was for one purpose: fending off polar bears in the Northwest Passage, in the event he became iced in, marooned until summer's thaw. But that leg of the journey was six months, 15,000 miles and one continent ago.

"At this point," Rutherford said of the shotgun, "it's just a clump of metal."

His satellite phone still works, and he can send and receive email through his GPS service — which is how he is able to stay connected with a handful of Annapolis-based friends who provide support. That also is how he spoke to a reporter recently while pointed north, about 2,000 miles east of Argentina. Now roughly parallel to the southern tip of Brazil, he is within 5,000 miles of completing his journey, with a mid-April return to Annapolis.

"It does get incredibly lonely," he said. "Lonely to the point where anything living is comforting. A bird, a fish, even a barnacle. I think I'm beyond lonely."

It is difficult to convey fully the audacity of what Rutherford is attempting to do: sailing approximately 25,000 miles, through some of Earth's most treacherous ocean, on a 36-year-old Albin Vega boat (which he christened the St. Brendan, in honor of a 6th-century explorer) best suited to weekend sailors who never venture beyond Chesapeake Bay. The Scott Polar Institute in Cambridge, England, already has recognized him as the first person in recorded history to make it through the fabled Northwest Passage alone and nonstop on such a small sailboat.

But for the sake of context, allow Herb McCormick to tell you how incredible Rutherford's odyssey is. In 2009-10, the veteran sailor and senior editor at Cruising World magazine completed the same journey (he did it in a clockwise direction, while Rutherford is going counterclockwise) — and it was grueling and mind-numbing and treacherous, testing both his skills and his fortitude on a daily basis.

"There were times when I shook my head and said, 'What am I doing?' " McCormick said.

He, however, made his journey around the Americas on a 64-foot steel boat loaded with wine and steaks and a huge reserve of diesel.

Oh, and McCormick was part of a four-man crew, all of whom were experienced sailors — and none of whom had to take a 10-hour shift at the helm, for example, dodging icebergs in the fog of Baffin Bay off the coast of Greenland while clocking 8 knots, as Rutherford did.

They didn't sleep nightly in a damp sleeping bag, or lay their heads on a damp, moldy pillow, as Rutherford does. They didn't smash their head into the ceiling if they tried to stand up in their cabin. They didn't have to pump a manual desalinator for 30 minutes every time they wanted a cup of water. They almost certainly didn't wear a paintball mask to do the job of a more suitable piece of waterproof headgear that they couldn't afford.

"What Matt is trying to do, I'm absolutely blown away by it," McCormick said. "He's doing this in a boat that, frankly, I'd be scared to sail from Newport to Bermuda. I'm in awe of the guy. This is such a mammoth undertaking, and to do it without stopping — alone — is mind-boggling.

"It's almost teetering on the edge of blood-insanity, frankly. When I heard what he was trying to do, I thought it was a suicide mission. I was fearful for him."

Quest for self-knowledge

What, then, would compel a 30-year-old Ohio native with a passion for the Cleveland Browns and the history of exploration to climb aboard an old sailboat, loaded with hand-me-down equipment and freeze-dried food, and embark on a mission that more experienced and practical sailors equate to suicide?

The simple answer is charity. Rutherford concocted his idea as a way to raise money for Chesapeake Region Accessible Boating (CRAB), an Annapolis-based organization that provides sailing opportunities for physically and/or developmentally disabled persons. While Rutherford is about 80 percent done with his voyage, he is only about 10 percent of the way to his fundraising goal of $250,000 for CRAB's projects.

But as one would expect, there is a larger mission at work, a quest for self-knowledge and inner peace that Rutherford hasn't always found on dry land. He was born and reared, he says, in a cult, before becoming "angry and confused" as a youth and taking to street life, spending much of his teens in and out of juvenile detention centers.

The life of adventure that he chose in his 20s has led him, among other places, to a solo bicycle journey across Southeast Asia and a pair of trans-Atlantic sails. His latest adventure makes those seem like child's play.

"Ultimately," he said, "I am trying to accomplish something that is greater than myself."

The payoff is the occasional brush with nature's overwhelming glory: seals, whales, walruses, narwhals, great albatrosses, penguins. In the Arctic (before his camera broke), he snapped pictures of icebergs the size of office buildings. He has marveled at the magnificence of the stars, the Milky Way appearing like a thick cloud.

"I have a strong bond with the ocean," he said. "I feel like I can understand it, and in some ways it understands me."

Twice, he has had face-to-face contact with humans, by necessity as opposed to chance. The first was two weeks in, when his desalinator broke off the Newfoundland coast, nearly ending the journey. But Simon Edwards, Rutherford's friend and primary lifeline to the civilized world, found someone willing to deliver Rutherford a replacement, along with a bottle of Newfoundland rum called Screech.

The second human contact was a resupply on the other side of the Northwest Passage, near Dutch Harbor, Alaska, when he found himself in need of a new inverter, for charging electronics. He received a replacement inverter, a hot pizza, a stack of newspapers, a bottle of scotch, a Virginia ham, some vegetables and 25 gallons of diesel. Rutherford, meantime, handed over a flash drive containing his iceberg pictures, which were uploaded to his blog.

In both cases, he never dropped anchor, and no one came aboard his boat, thus preserving the nonstop, solo designation of the journey. Still, in a blog post detailing the resupply, Rutherford lamented his concession to reality — noting his idol, Irish explorer Ernest Shackleton, never had such creature comforts delivered to his boat.

"When I left on this trip, I wanted to suffer like he suffered," Rutherford wrote. "I felt that the resupply was infringing on my suffering."

Ultimately, though, he concluded, "There is no reason to make this trip harder than it already is."

Life at sea easier

The hardest parts of the voyage have ended — the treacherous ice of the Northwest Passage, the typhoons blowing off Japan and across the North Pacific, the unpredictable weather and currents around Cape Horn — but Rutherford hardly is home free. McCormick noted the worst weather his crew encountered during the journey came around North Carolina's Cape Hatteras.

"We got absolutely creamed off Cape Hatteras," McCormick said. "It's called the Graveyard of the North Atlantic for good reason." Assuming Rutherford makes it, McCormick believes he should be listed among names such as Joshua Slocum, the first man to sail solo around the world; Robin Knox-Johnston, the first to do so nonstop; and Sir Francis Chichester, the first to do so by the southern "clipper route."

"His name belongs in the annals of history, alongside those men," McCormick said.

For Rutherford, the most ecstatic and most terrifying parts of the trip will be the same one — the moment he sets foot on dry land again, for the first time in 10 months. Some sort of reception is planned — his friends and benefactors won't tell Rutherford what, and he doesn't want to know. People will be looking at him. He might feel as if he should say something.

As much as he craves a hot shower, a cold beer and the company of "the ladies," as he likes to say, life at sea often is simply easier than life on land.

"I have mixed feelings about being on land again," he said. "I know I have to go — I'm going to need toilet paper, and I could use a drink. But I'm broke on land. I live on a really small boat. I struggle on land with a lot of things.

"I guess you just trade one struggle for another."

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