Why We Built CruiserFix
It started with a fuel line. A $12 rubber hose carrying diesel from the primary filter to the lift pump. It cracked somewhere between Colombia and Panama, probably from age, probably from vibration, probably from the fact that it was original to the boat and the boat was built when Reagan was president.
We were 200 miles offshore. The engine died at 0300. I bled the system, checked the filters, and found the crack by flashlight — a weeping split that sprayed diesel every time the lift pump pulsed. I had spare hose. I had clamps. I fixed it in 20 minutes and went back to bed.
But the next morning, I started thinking. What if I hadn't had the spare hose? What if the crack had been in the lift pump itself? Or the injection pump? Or the head gasket? We were two days from Shelter Bay, Panama. I knew there was a diesel mechanic there — someone had mentioned him on the Pacific Puddle Jump WhatsApp group. But I didn't know his name. I didn't know his number. I didn't know if he was any good. And I realized that this was how cruisers had been finding help since forever: fragments of information passed like oral history from one anchorage to the next.
The Problem
Every cruiser has a version of this story. The autopilot that dies in the Tuamotus. The rigging that starts weeping rust in the Marquesas. The fridge that quits in the Red Sea. And every time, the solution is the same: ask on the radio net, ask on WhatsApp, ask the guy in the next slip. Hope someone knows someone. Hope that someone is competent. Hope they're still in business.
Sometimes it works. Sometimes you get Marcus in Grenada, who rebuilt your rigging like a artist. Sometimes you get a guy who shows up with a wrench and a prayer, charges you $400 to make the problem worse, and disappears into the mangroves.
There's no Yelp for marine tradesmen. No Google Reviews in Chaguaramas. No Angie's List for riggers in Bodrum. The information exists — in cruiser notebooks, in forum threads from 2011, in the heads of people who've been cruising for 20 years. But it's scattered, perishable, and inaccessible to the cruiser who just anchored somewhere new and needs help today.
The Idea
We were in Opua, New Zealand, waiting out a weather system. I was sitting in the marina lounge with my laptop, trying to find a rigger in Tonga for a friend who was heading there in two weeks. I checked Noonsite. I checked Cruisers Forum. I checked Facebook groups. I found three names, two phone numbers, and one guy who had apparently moved to Australia in 2019.
And I thought: this is insane. We have the internet. We have databases. We have the ability to build something that every cruiser could use, update, and trust. A directory where the reviews come from people who actually had the work done. Where the listings are updated when a business closes. Where a cruiser in distress can find a diesel mechanic in five minutes instead of five days.
I sketched it on a napkin. Port pages. Service categories. Reviews with boat details and service dates. A reputation system for contributors. A wiki-style edit function so the community keeps it current. I showed it to my partner. She said, "You know we're supposed to be sailing to Fiji next week, right?" I said, "This is more important." She rolled her eyes. She's still rolling them. But she's also entering data.
The Build
We built CruiserFix in anchorages. In Opua. In Tonga. In Fiji. In Whangarei during a rainstorm that lasted three weeks. We coded on a laptop balanced on a chart table, tested on marina WiFi that dropped every 20 minutes, and argued about database schemas while motoring through squalls.
The name came from a conversation in a bar in Vava'u. A Kiwi cruiser said, "What you need is something that fixes cruisers. Not just boats — cruisers. The whole problem." CruiserFix. It stuck.
We launched with 50 ports and 200 businesses, seeded from our own notes and the notebooks of friends. The first review came from a Canadian couple on a Hans Christian 38 who'd had their diesel rebuilt in Trinidad. They wrote 400 words, included photos, and listed every part that was replaced. It was perfect. It was exactly what we wanted.
The Philosophy
CruiserFix isn't a business directory. It's a community memory. Every review is a gift to the next sailor who anchors in that bay with a broken thing and no idea who to trust. Every business added is a node in a network that makes the cruising life safer, cheaper, and less lonely.
We don't charge businesses to list. We don't sell ads. We don't take commissions. The only currency is contribution. Add a business. Write a review. Update a phone number. In return, you get reputation points, recognition from the community, and the knowledge that you've helped someone you'll probably never meet.
Because that's what cruising is. It's not just sailing from pretty place to pretty place. It's a community of people who help each other because they know that someday, they'll be the ones needing help. CruiserFix is just the tool that makes that help findable.
What's Next
We're adding ports every week. We're building mobile apps for offline access. We're working on language translation so a French cruiser can read a review written by an Australian. We're dreaming of a day when every port in the world has a CruiserFix page, and no cruiser ever has to guess who to call when the diesel dies at midnight.
If you've used a tradesman, a boatyard, or a chandlery anywhere in the world, add them. Write the review you wish you'd had. Pay it forward. The next sailor who anchors in that bay will thank you — even if they don't know your name.
We're CruiserFix. We're cruisers. And we're fixing the problem, one port at a time.