Salt in the Blood
Why Rosebud Yacht Club is Where it All Began
They say you never forget your first boat, but for me, it was the club that really stuck.
My journey with the water started at six years old. My grandmother had just bought a house in Rosebud, and like clockwork, every summer meant one thing: heading down the Mornington Peninsula to the Rosebud Yacht Club.
Looking back, those summers weren’t just holidays—they were the foundation of everything I do now. Growing up at RoYC provided the ultimate playground. One day I’d be fighting for balance on a monohull, the next I’d be experiencing the raw lift and speed of a multihull catamaran. Then there were the windsurfers—a true test of patience and core strength. Whether we were dodging the sandbars or catching a stiff southerly, Rosebud was the place that taught me how to read the water. It’s where I learned that the best view in the world is usually from a hiking strap or a trapeze.
Those early mornings on the sand prepared me for the offshore life I live today. You can’t understand the rhythm of the ocean until you’ve spent your childhood summers navigating the tides and the shifts of the Peninsula. Looking back at those memories, one thing is clear: the boats have changed over the years, but the obsession with the ocean remains exactly the same.
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