He called himself “The Caswell.”
Precious few people could pull off that kind of self-branding, but somehow, with Chris Caswell, it worked. The former Yachting senior editor, who went on to become a frequent freelance contributor with Yachting and many other marine titles, had a voice so distinct that even his emails to editors were different from all the rest.
“I could always count on an email from Chris every few months letting me know which new yachts were in his area, and that ‘The Caswell’ was ready and willing to get the story for Yachting,” says Patrick Sciacca, who served as the magazine’s editor-in-chief from 2015 until this past May. “And he did, often, and at a very high level. One thing a writer can’t learn is having a voice. You either have it or you don’t. Chris had a voice. You could cover up the byline, and by the end of the first sentence, you knew it was him.”
Kenny Wooton, who served as editor-in-chief from 1992 to 2003, also recalls Caswell being a distinct personality from the first moment they spoke.
“Caswell here,” Wooton says. “I must have heard that a hundred times over the 35 years I knew Chris. My journey with him began with a phone call in 1992. I’d just started a job as senior editor at Yachting in New York. I knew of him, but we’d never met. He was rebounding from getting tossed as the magazine’s West Coast editor and was pinging the new guy for freelance work. The long conversation we had that day established that we were kindred spirits and had a shared passion for the history and traditions of the sport. I forget what story I commissioned that day, but it was the first of many over the years at multiple publications.”
Wooton also says Caswell was one of the finest writers he ever worked with during his decades in marine journalism. “‘Easy peasy’ was always his reply to a story idea or assignment,” Wooton says. “He did have a habit of disappearing for months at a stretch, but eventually my phone would ring with him pitching stories or looking for assignments. ‘Caswell here.’ I never could resist hiring him.”
Some of those disappearances throughout the years were when Caswell cast off lines and went boating, perhaps in the British Virgin Islands or maybe in the archipelagoes off the coast of Greece. Other times, though, his wife, Rhea, revealed after he died, were when he was quietly undergoing chemotherapy and radiation—during a 28-year battle he was waging to keep cancer at bay.
“Fighting cancer requires immense strength,” she told Boating Writers International, the professional organization where her husband was a longtime member. “Through it all, he kept courage and humor intact, always ready to share wit and wisdom along the way in his writing. He used to joke about being the poster boy for prostate cancer. He gave it one hell of run.”
Caswell died May 13, 2026, at age 80. A celebration of life is expected to be scheduled in the future.
“It had been a while since we’d talked,” Wooton says, “but as with any friends who depart this world unexpectedly, I wish I’d had one more chat with him, at least just to hear him say, ‘Caswell out.’”
