From Rockies to the Open Sea: How One Colorado Couple Turned Their Dream into a Sailboat Life

When you think of Colorado, the mind usually drifts to snow‑capped peaks, wide‑open plains, and cozy cabins tucked into pine forests. For Jen and Mark Rivera, that image was home for years—until the call of the water grew louder than the rustle of aspens.

It started as a weekend getaway. A friend invited them aboard a modest sailboat in Lake Dillon, and they fell in love with the gentle rocking, the smell of salt (well, lake‑salt), and the sense of freedom that comes when the wind catches the mainsail. “We felt tiny, but in the best possible way,” Jen recalls, laughing.

What began as a hobby soon turned into a full‑blown obsession. Over the next eighteen months they logged countless hours on the water, devouring books on seamanship, navigation, and the logistics of living aboard. Their tiny Colorado home, a charming two‑bedroom bungalow, started feeling more like a museum piece than a sanctuary.

“The walls were closing in,” Mark admits. “We loved the mountains, but we wanted the horizon to stretch forever, not just from one ridge to the next.” The decision to sell wasn’t impulsive; it was the culmination of long evenings on the deck, sketching floor plans for a compact galley, and daydreaming about waking up to sunrise over the Pacific instead of the Rocky sunrise.

In the spring of 2023 they listed the house. The market was surprisingly kind—within three weeks, a young family swooped in, and the Rivas were handed a crisp check. With the proceeds, they purchased a 40‑foot sailboat, the “Sea‑Wanderer,” a sturdy but modest vessel that promised both comfort and adventure.

Transitioning from a land‑locked life to a floating one is, unsurprisingly, a learning curve. The first few weeks were a blend of exhilaration and chaos: figuring out how to boil water without a stovetop, learning the quirks of a marine toilet, and mastering the art of tying knots that didn’t come in handy on a mountain trail.

Remote work became their lifeline. Both are freelance graphic designers, and the internet—thanks to a reliable satellite dish—lets them meet deadlines while drifting past coastal towns. “Clients don’t care where I am, as long as I deliver,” Jen says, scrolling through a backlog of design projects on a tablet propped against the cabin’s porthole.

Living aboard also forced them to confront minimalism head‑on. The Rivas downsized from a house full of knick‑knacks to just the essentials: a few coats, a compact kitchen set, and a well‑worn blanket they keep on the deck for chilly nights. “It’s liberating,” Mark adds, “to own only what truly matters.”

They’ve already anchored in places they once only dreamed about—Maui’s crystal bays, the historic harbor of San Sebastián in Spain, and the rugged coast of British Columbia. Each stop feels like a new chapter, and the couple documents their journey on a modest blog that has gathered a small but enthusiastic following.

Challenges remain, of course. Storms can be intimidating, the space is limited, and the occasional homesickness for a fresh‑baked pie from a local Colorado bakery bites. Yet, the Rivas say the trade‑off is worth it. “We traded a static view for an ever‑changing canvas,” Jen muses, watching gulls wheel overhead.

For anyone standing at a similar crossroads—whether stuck in a career that feels too small, or yearning for a fresh perspective—their story serves as a reminder that sometimes the biggest moves start with a single gust of wind.