For years, Dharma has been more than a sailboat—it is a floating sanctuary, dedicated almost entirely to one thing: healing. What began as simple day sails slowly evolved into something deeper. War veterans, survivors of violence, and others carrying the invisible weight of trauma stepped aboard, often guarded and tense. As the harbor faded behind us and the open water opened ahead, something shifted. Shoulders dropped. Breathing softened. Conversation became easier—or silence felt safer. Over time, it became clear: Dharma wasn’t just taking people up the coast; she was giving them a safe place to lay their pain down, even if just for a while.
Her decks have held tears, laughter, and long stretches of quiet where no one needed to say anything at all. Veterans spoke of sleepless nights that eased after feeling the rise and fall of the sea. Others shared stories of loss—of loved ones, of safety, of a former self they weren’t sure they’d ever find again. On Dharma, the trauma didn’t disappear, but it became holdable. There is something about the horizon, the wind in the rigging, and the steady line of the bow cutting through the water that makes even the heaviest stories feel like they can move, breathe, and begin to shift.
Those early sails revealed something profound: the very elements of sailing—wind, balance, breath, presence—naturally create the same spaciousness of mind that meditation seeks. Instead of sitting on a cushion, you’re watching the sail, feeling the gusts, noticing the way the boat leans, adjusting your stance. Attention comes into the body. The mind, usually racing, finally has something simple and real to rest on: the pull of the sheet in your hand, the sound of water along the hull, the sky changing minute by minute. The ocean becomes both mirror and teacher, reflecting back how we meet stress, how we react to sudden change, and how we can choose to soften instead of brace.
In many traditions, the Buddha is said to have sat under the Bodhi tree for 49 nights, facing his fears, doubts, and inner storms until clarity arose. Most of us don’t have 49 nights to disappear from the world—but we do have a day on the water. Dharma is built around that idea: creating a condensed, living version of that practice. Out here, the “Bodhi tree” is a mast; the “cushion” is a cockpit bench; the practice is learning to stay present with whatever arises—wind or calm, sunshine or fog, inner noise or sudden quiet. Every sail is designed with this in mind. This boat does not exist for racing or showing off; her sole purpose is to offer a setting where nervous systems can unwind, hearts can open, and people can remember what peace feels like in their own bodies.
Trip by trip, story by story, Dharma has become a vessel of calm, soul, and healing—not in theory, but in lived experience. The intention is simple: step aboard, leave the shore behind for a few hours, and let the sea help you remember that even after storms—inside or out—stillness is possible again.
To use sailing as a metaphorical and literal vessel for obtaining the benefits of meditation, peace, and happiness — quickly.
Sailing Dharma is comprised of dedicate people who share a passion for the ocean, the wind, and the soul. Backed by decades of experience and knowledge, our crew-members are relentless practitioners of growth via introspection.
