Our Story
Us
Our story begins with a compass, a sailboat, and the open water.
Kate and I met at a moment when life was changing directions. I was just coming out of the military, closing one chapter of service and stepping into a world that suddenly felt much bigger and less structured than the one I had known.
Instead of settling immediately into something predictable, we did something a little unconventional.
We bought a sailboat.
Not just for weekends—but to live on.
With our kids aboard, we set out from Charleston, South Carolina, leaving the familiar harbor behind and heading south toward the turquoise waters of the Bahamas. Life on the boat was simple but demanding. Every day required teamwork. Weather dictated the schedule. The tide set the rhythm. The kids learned quickly that adventure and responsibility often go hand in hand.
There were mornings watching the sun rise over quiet anchorages and nights navigating by starlight. We fished for dinner, fixed what broke, and learned to rely on each other in ways that only life at sea can teach.
The ocean gave us something the military had taught me long before: discipline, resilience, and trust in the people beside you.
Eventually, the wind carried us back home to South Carolina—but we returned with a new idea of what life could look like.
Instead of a harbor, we chose land.
A lot of land.
Today we spend our days on our farm, trading sails and tides for fences and pastures. Farm life has become its own kind of adventure. Every season brings something new to learn—livestock management, raising new animals, improving the land, and figuring out how to steward a property this large the right way.
We are students of it every day.
The farm reflects pieces of our past and our values. The discipline from military life never really goes away, and we still keep many of those traditions in our daily routines. Structure, responsibility, and preparedness remain part of how we run things.
And scattered across the property are places that remind us of that chapter—multiple shooting ranges, from tactical training areas to long-range setups that stretch out across the landscape. They serve as both practice and tradition, a quiet connection to the years spent in uniform.
Life looks different now.
The sails have been folded, replaced by tractors, livestock, and long stretches of pasture. But the spirit is the same. Adventure didn’t end when the boat docked—it just changed landscapes.
From the waters of the Bahamas to the fields outside Charleston, we’re still navigating, still learning, and still building a life together—one day, one season, and one new challenge at a time.