In Call of the Sea by Captain Ron Smith is a book worth reading for readers of all ages. There is a moment that every captain knows that quiet second before the anchor lifts, when the world feels suspended between what is known and what lies ahead. It is a moment filled with both excitement and humility, because setting out to sea means letting go of certainty. It means trusting that discovery is worth the risk.
For as long as I have been voyaging, that feeling has never faded. Each journey is different, each horizon carries a mystery of its own. The ocean is vast, unpredictable, and endlessly alive. It invites you to explore, but it never reveals all of itself. That is the beauty of ocean exploration, the understanding that no matter how far you travel, there will always be something beyond your reach, waiting to be found.
When I began writing Call of the Sea, I wanted to capture that spirit. The book is not just a collection of life at sea stories; it is a testament to what happens when you follow curiosity instead of comfort. My years as a captain taught me that the real treasures of the maritime lifestyle are not found in ports or destinations but in the quiet discoveries that unfold along the way. I have spent countless days crossing open waters, watching the color of the sea change with the sky, navigating by stars that seemed close enough to touch. Those experiences shaped more than my navigation skills, they shaped my sense of wonder. Every mile carried a lesson, every challenge a reminder that exploration is less about conquering and more about understanding.
There were times when I faced the unknown with hesitation. A shifting wind, an unfamiliar current, a decision that could alter the course of an entire voyage. Yet those moments taught me the most. They reminded me that courage is not found in knowing what lies ahead but in setting cruise anyway. That, to me, is the essence of a captain’s journey, the willingness to step into uncertainty with faith in your vessel, your crew, and yourself.
Writing Call of the Sea brought back the raw emotions of those adventures, the anticipation of discovery, the fear of failure, and the quiet triumph that follows persistence. It became more than a nautical memoir. It became a reflection of how exploration at sea mirrors exploration in life. We all chart unknown waters at some point, whether it’s a new path, a dream, or a challenge we’ve long avoided. The ocean simply makes those metaphors real.
Through my adventures, I learned that exploration begins where comfort ends. The sea is honest, it strips away illusions and leaves you face-to-face with yourself. Out there, surrounded by water and sky, you realize how small you are and yet how connected you’ve always been to something greater. That realization deepened my love for the ocean in ways I can never fully describe.
There are lessons from the sea that only the waves can teach. They remind you that discovery is not a single event but a lifelong process. You can chart the same route a hundred times and still notice something new, the way the light shifts, the rhythm of the wind, the hidden wisdom in the tide. Each voyage is both familiar and foreign, and that paradox is what keeps us captains searching.
The adventure on the open water is never just about distance or direction. It is about perspective. The sea has a way of expanding your view of reminding you that the horizon is not a boundary but an invitation. As I look back on the miles I’ve explored the oceans and the stories I’ve told, I realize that exploration is not about reaching the end of a journey. It is about staying open to the endless possibilities that lie just beyond the edge of what you know. That is what Call of the Sea represents to me, a promise to keep discovering, to keep learning, and to keep answering the call that has guided me my entire life. Because for those who love the ocean, the map is never finished. There will always be another horizon waiting to be found.