Because you can't fake a waterperson's point of view
People who know what it feels like to round a headland in building wind and seas. Who've spent months on the water and came home different. Who see a coastline and don't think "pretty," they think "let's go."
If the ocean shaped who you are, these maps were made for you.
I'm Courtney.
I'm a marine cartographer. I live at sea on a sailboat called Whisky Jack II, and I work up and down the BC coast.
I grew up here on the coast, surrounded by makers: weavers, photographers, painters, boat builders. Making things was normal. Useful things mattered.
University gave me technical skill and scientific precision. The ocean gave me judgment. Years spent sailing, surfing, diving, and working on the water taught me what actually matters on the water. Out there, skills matter more than miles.
Why these maps exist
The idea took shape during a three-month lighthouse shift in 2021. A lot of staring out at the ocean. A lot of time to think. And a realization that, despite being a professional cartographer, I had never seen a map that told my story.
Not the miles sailed. Not the passages run. Not the places that shaped me.
Everything I'd seen was either a practical, but dull, navigation tool or tourist art made by someone who'd clearly never been to sea. Nothing in between. Nothing made from an ocean perspective -where the water is the story and the land is just there context.
So I made the map I wanted. Then I made it better. Then I made it for other waterpeople.
The last 2%
I obsess over details that most people will never consciously notice.
I'll spend hours adjusting seafloor shading so it feels textured and alive. Tweaking colour gradients so depth transitions feel real rather than jarring. Testing label placements so nothing blocks the visual story of how everything connects. Zooming in and out, checking how the map reads at different scales, making micro-adjustments to spacing and hierarchy.
It's inefficient. It slows me down. I could ship more maps if I stopped chasing the last 2%.
But the craftsperson in me -the part that spent years on the water learning that small things matter, that preparation and attention to detail can be the difference between a good passage and a disaster- can't let it go. That's where a map stops being data and starts becoming story.
What you get
A map that isn't decoration. It's a conversation starter when friends come over and drift toward the wall. A trip planner you can touch, trace, and argue over. A quiet reminder of everywhere you've been - and a provocation to go somewhere new.
These maps are designed from an ocean perspective, for people who experience the world from the water. The features that matter to waterpeople are the features that made the cut: lightstations, provisioning towns, depth shading, nautical mile scale. The rest got left out on purpose.
Each one is professionally printed on archival paper with fade-resistant inks - built to outlast the beige chart that's curling off your wall right now.
What waterpeople are saying
⭐ 4.8/5 from 25 reviews
Your walls should reflect who you are.
Not what's trendy. Not what's safe.
Who you became out there.