The Waterlogged Psychologist 

one single white sailboat still on blue sea

As an expert in addictions treatment, I had to admit something uncomfortable: I possessed a lifetime addiction to boating. An obsession that once bordered on financial and spiritual ruin. 

Over the past fifty years, I’ve studied human behavior and published many clinical works. Depending on the day, you might know me as a Professor Emeritus of Psychology, a Licensed Clinical Psychologist, or even as Captain in the California State Guard.

Yet, the most profound truths I’ve discovered weren’t found in a laboratory, classroom, or more recently in a military drill or muster.

They emerged from my own experiences and stories. These stories are the "mostly accurate" tales of a man (me) who owned seven boats and lived to tell about them. My friends know that my sailing history is a series of antics, from hitting a drive-through wall with my boat trailer to the regular humiliation of being towed back to port. Those misadventures inspired my upcoming book, Seven Sheets to the Wind, debuting in 2026. 

Truth be told, writing the book gave me a chance to reflect, share stories, and extract lessons learned from my time on sea. 

First, let’s talk about the book’s title, Seven Sheets to the Wind.  In nautical slang, being "three sheets to the wind" means you’re drunk, ignorant, or just plain foolish. Now having owned seven different vessels, I figured I was that drunk captain plenty of times, with seven sheets pushing me toward disaster.  My adventure wasn’t about being a master mariner, of course. Rather, my sailing trips soon became about chronicling my idiotic (or at least nonsensical) choices while at sea and the hard consequences that followed.

And now, dear friend, I want to share those lessons with you.

Here’s one fond memory and lesson. Many years ago, I faced a turning point in my so-called “nautical career”.  My son, Josh, sank my sixth boat, Bad Attitude, during a sudden storm (read the book to learn why I named her that and the full story). While I was panicked over the wrecked vessel, Josh looked at me and said, “Dad, I did you a favor. You got paid well for it and didn’t have to sell it!”

It was a moment of clarity where I learned that sometimes losing what you love can be the very thing that sets you free. Perspective, not possession, is really what I needed to learn.

I have many more stories of my learnings in my book. I invite you to join me on this voyage: a journey toward reclaiming sanity on the sea. Along the way, I’ll share how I navigated my own life’s storms with grace, and I hope you’ll find wisdom, encouragement, and maybe even a few laughs as you continue to chart your own course, whether on land or on sea. I sprinkle in best practices and even a bigger lesson that allowed me to rediscover my own Christian faith in a new way: that true mastery of any storm, whether it’s a hurricane or a mental health crisis, requires surrendering the helm to the "Perfect Captain” or the One who commands the wind and the waves. And I had many moments of those. 

So, welcome aboard as I kick off this blog series, sharing the stories and the lessons that were earned at sea.

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What Sailing Taught Me About Inner Peace