Sailing Saving Veteran’s Pt. 1
Saving Veterans’ Lives Through Sailing
By Rick Meldrum
To say 2020-2021 was a difficult year for me would be an understatement. After my wife and I divorced in Colorado, she decided to move back to Seattle to be closer to her family. I moved, too, so I would be able to see our son regularly. While the time I spent with him was sacred and special to me, the breakup sent me into a deep depression.
Since sustaining traumatic brain injuries in training and combat and PTSD from my tours in Iraq, my mental health has been a challenge. When I’m feeling dark, I sometimes struggle with suicidal ideation. When you know people who’ve killed themselves, you’re more prone to this, and unfortunately, I’ve had several Army brothers take this drastic step. Someone who was very close to me took their own life and partly blamed me for where he was in that dark moment in his life before being free from it.
I needed something new that would pull me back into the light. My new location made this pretty obvious: the ocean. Seattle is surrounded by water, and I thought it’d be fun to live on a yacht (albeit a motor yacht 😒) like Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail, after he splits up with his girlfriend. It seemed like the right thing to do after my divorce, even though some might call it a midlife crisis!
Finding Freedom on the Water
Initially, I thought that I would buy a cheap, medium-sized boat that I would learn everything on, from sailing itself to how to do my own repairs and everything in between. Then I planned to buy a bigger one that I intended to live on for a long while. So I went onto Craigslist and started hunting for the right starter. When I came across a listing that showed a black boat with flames on the side and the name “Igniter,” I couldn’t resist.
The boat looked even better in person, and it came with the kind of bowling shirts Guy Fieri wears. It was a Martin 29 designed by Don Martin. This proved to be just the right size for me, even though I never ended up living on it. The reason I jumped right into buying a boat was because I didn’t want to rely on anyone else’s availability when I wanted to get out on the water.
This one was owned by a fellow veteran, Captain Ron, who was in his upper 70s—around my father’s age. He gave me several lessons and made me promise I wouldn’t take Igniter out by myself. I had to cross my fingers behind my back because after sailing with him a few times, that’s exactly what I planned to do.
I’d grown up flying with my grandfather, Richard Hume, who’d graduated from naval aviator school near the end of World War Two. I remember him as this guy with a huge personality and a cigar wedged between his lips, like Hannibal Smith in The A-Team. Sailing gave me a similar sense of liberty. The first time I brought Igniter back from my maiden solo voyage and took the sails down, I felt different. What hooked me was how sailing solo is all-encompassing for me mentally. There is no room "upstairs" for the problems back onshore. It feels freeing and grounding simultaneously. Sailing has a profound way of giving me perspective on life every time I’m alone on the water.
That first time out on my own boat was transformative. I had already met my new partner, Beth, and we were very happy. But I thought that even if everything went to crap, she left me, and my son ended up hating me for some reason, I had this new thing that offered a way out other than the suicidal thoughts that plagued me when depression closed in. Now, I had the option of sailing off into the sunset and that made me feel hopeful.
Another aspect that immediately appealed to me was the strength of the sailing community here in Seattle. Early on, I started meeting new people through the Duck Dodge. After some friendly but competitive racing on Lake Union, you raft up your boat next to everyone else’s to hang out and share a few drinks while taking in the dramatic city skyline. I also started to recognize sailing ties among the military. After I took my father sailing for the first time, he saw a photo of Captain Ron and my boat, and noticed that one of his Vietnam squad mates was in the foreground.
Partnering with U.S. Patriot Sailing
Once I’d experienced the true power of sailing for myself, I was determined to share it with others. Statistics vary, but around 22 veterans a day kill themselves. Many more struggle with chronic mental health issues. If sailing could impact me so positively and profoundly, perhaps it could do the same for them. I’d found something that saved me, and I didn’t want one more veteran to take their own life if it could help them, too, by teaching it. That’s one reason I decided to start a non-profit.
Another was thinking back to a few years before, when two old comrades, Beau Maier and Alex Evans, asked me to join them in the first all-veteran crew for the Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge. They had started Fight Oar Die, a non-profit that aims to promote cognitive, behavioral, and physical health of military personnel and veterans. The inspiration came when Brian Reed, who became like a brother to me in Iraq, took his own life. I wasn’t able to participate at the time, but their example of what starting a watersports-based charity could do was even more powerful now that I was all in with sailing.
One evening I was browsing on YouTube and found a video of a boat named Patriot. I looked at the channel and it was for U.S. Patriot Sailing. After watching a few more of their videos, I realized that maybe I didn’t have to reinvent the wheel and go through all the logistical hassle of setting up a 501(c)(3) because someone had already done it.
Then I read their mission statement: “Support our fellow Veterans by welcoming them onto our TEAM - offering camaraderie, mission accomplishment, and new dynamic experiences - we foster supportive and understanding Veteran communities, ready to help Teammates navigate the hardships of transition, rehabilitation after injury, and the complex life challenges associated with combat deployments.”
I left a message for the director, Peter Quinn, and was surprised when he called me back within a few minutes. After sharing my story, I told him that sailing had saved my life, and I didn’t want one more veteran taking their life if I could help them by teaching it. “You get the mission,” he said, and agreed to let me spin up a Seattle chapter. It has been a slow process that’s taken the help of some incredible servant leaders, but we’ve now got one boat operational – a Rocket 22 built by Don Martin – and another that’s being repaired.
In the meantime, I’m excited to get veterans out onto the water and teach them how to sail, even if it’s just a little dinghy. Through my coaching and volunteering with U.S. Patriot Sailing, I’m taking a dual approach to making a positive mark on the mental and physical side. Sharing sailing provides a stronger sense of purpose than paid work and allows me to make a lasting impact on active duty and retired servicemen and women.
When veterans learn to sail, they get their confidence back, feel empowered, and have a sense of self-efficacy that transfers back to the challenges they face on dry land. They also find a new tribe and are no longer isolated. If they get hooked, U.S. Patriot Sailing will support them as they upskill for a career in the marine industry, just like they paid for me to become an instructor and soon, to get my captain’s license. This is a huge win, as many veterans struggle to get a job after retiring from active duty.
We’re up against it this year as we lost our VA funding, and the budget is tight. If several people would donate boats and others provided additional funding, we could touch even more lives. With all the coves, bays, and anchorages in Puget Sound and other parts of the Pacific Northwest, I’d like us to go beyond just taking groups of guys out sailing. We could get spouses and families involved in multiday cruising and also allow the units who pay us to sail for free, so they can redirect that money for other teambuilding activities. We just need more donations.
Making Waves and Connections in Ireland
Late last year, Peter called me and asked if Emma – one of our U.S. Patriot Sailing Seattle officers who is a PT for the VA – wanted to go to Ireland for a week of sailing. The Irish put on the Beaufort Cup to gather international service members for boat racing during Volvo Cork Week. I jumped at the chance and ended up being the second youngest on our vessel, which is unusual. I also had to embrace a new role. Typically, I’m a helmsman as I love driving the boat, but for the whole week, I had to be by the mast and in the foredeck doing other duties.
After a couple of short practice voyages to get used to the tides, the boat, and each other, the crew and I set out from Cork on a 24-hour race that covered 120 nautical miles. We rounded the lighthouse at Fastnet Rock in the middle of the night with no moon, so unfortunately, we didn’t get a photo of this iconic spot that’s the most southerly point in Ireland. But the entire experience was incredible. I was up in the bow with Alex, a 25-year-old who had been gearing up to earn a spot sailing for Team USA at the Paris Olympics but decided to accept a commission in the Marines instead.
As we got to know each other and I was energized by the conversation with this fellow extrovert, I witnessed the power of sailing to bring strangers and veterans together. I candidly shared my ups and downs with Alex, and he confided in me about the struggles of going through the MARSOC program and the stresses of leading men since. During the 24-hour race and buoy and harbor events later on, we became friends for life.
On Friday that week, we were out in the biggest wind and sea conditions I’ve ever experienced. I was frightened and wasn’t sure if I was going to slide off the deck and into the water. Alex looked at me and asked if I was OK. I wouldn’t normally admit this, but I told him, “No, I’m a little scared.” He told me to give it an hour to get my feet underneath me and that he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen. It was the kind of camaraderie I hadn’t experienced since serving with my unit in Iraq.
In addition to making me want to go back to the Beaufort Cup with Alex in 2026 and win it, the Ireland trip made me double down on my commitment to U.S. Patriot Sailing Seattle. We have other team members who are better at instructing, repairing, and fundraising, which allows me to focus on meeting people and making connections. By being vulnerable, sharing my story, and listening to veterans’ struggles, I’m able to earn their trust. Giving them the gift of sailing makes them feel more capable and connected in our community. And in trying to save as many lives as possible, I’m also saving myself every time I go out on the water.
