The Railmeat Roster
Christian Voyer
505 class
Christian & Luke: The back-to-back CORK International legends who prove that "tactical genius" is mostly just vibes. Christian treats the Ottawa River like a lost-and-found for his prescription sunglasses, leaving Luke to act as his high-speed seeing-eye dog. It’s inspirational, really—winning races while legally blind.
Luke Strickland
505 class
Christian & Luke: The back-to-back CORK International legends who prove that "tactical genius" is mostly just vibes. Christian treats the Ottawa River like a lost-and-found for his prescription sunglasses, leaving Luke to act as his high-speed seeing-eye dog. It’s inspirational, really—winning races while legally blind.
“Sea”Drik Dumais
ILCA class
Cedrick: A World Championship contender who dominates the water while wearing bright orange gardening gloves. Because why spend hundreds on "technical gear" when a Home Depot loyalty card and a dream can get the job done?
Eva Doucette
ILCA class
Eva: The top Youth Female at Canadians who is officially powered by Chicken Alfredo. While everyone else is choking down chalky protein shakes, she’s using heavy cream and carbs as rocket fuel. It’s terrifyingly effective.
Hard to beat, harder to ignore.
Meet our crew of absolute legends—a squad of racers who prove that elite performance is usually just high-speed chaos in a comfortable hoodie. These four are the heart of the brand, dominating podiums and owning the after-party with the kind of skill that makes "professionalism" look boring. They’re unstoppable, unavoidable, and currently out-training everyone while the rest of us are still defrosting. We’re ridiculously proud to have them representing us on the water, mostly because they prove you can be a world-class athlete and a total disruptor at the same time. Watch out for them this season; they’re coming for the trophies, and they’re doing it with style.
Bought a Boat. Didn’t Die.
Look, we fell in love with sailing the most logical way possible: by purchasing a floating death trap with zero experience, because apparently, "responsible adulthood" felt a little too easy. While the Ottawa River community was busy keeping us from inadvertently becoming part of the ecosystem, we realized that most boating gear has the personality of a damp saltine cracker. So, we birthed Railmeat Apparel—a love letter to the chaotic, stubborn, pasta-powered legends who actually inhabit the water. We’re trading generic mall-brand vibes for clothes that reflect the beautiful, salt-stained misfits we call friends. In short, we took a leap of faith, managed not to drown, and built a brand for the rest of us.
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Dockside Drifter
Regular price From $75.00 CADRegular price -
Legend Sleeve
Regular price $9.99 CADRegular price -
Splinter Shields
Regular price $60.00 CADRegular price -
The Packable Panic Button
Regular price From $90.00 CADRegular price -
Teasure Chest
Regular price $50.00 CADRegular price -
Captain’s Confessional
Regular price $30.00 CADRegular price
Sit. Breathe. Beer. Repeat.
Railmeat isn’t a career; it’s a spiritual calling for the professionally lazy. Your entire job description is to sit on the edge of a boat like a decorative sack of potatoes until someone screams at you to move your useless body to the other side. It’s the only gig on earth where your primary value is having a pulse, a butt, and a total lack of interest in spreadsheets. If you can handle front-row sunsets, cold beer, and existing beautifully while being yelled at, congratulations—you’re overqualified.
Lose the Yacht Club Costume.
Forget the glossy catalogs and NASA-grade jackets for people who’ve never touched salt water. We’re the rebellion for the rest of us—the ones with sunscreen in our eyes, pasta in our teeth, and a hoodie that hasn’t seen a washing machine since the Clinton administration. At Railmeat Apparel, we don't do "technical gear"; we do the softest tees and hoodies on the planet, built for real life on the water and the inevitable loss of your sunglasses to the river. Look like yourself, not a mannequin.
If you’re here for the glorious chaos and think "elite sailing" gear is just a fancy way to overcharge for zippers, welcome home. We’re not the catalog models in matching windbreakers; we’re the ones at the marina making hoodies so comfortable you'll forget laundry exists. Stop being a walking billboard for some corporate brand and start wearing your own story—preferably one that smells faintly of sunscreen, salt water, and questionable life choices.
Paper Boat Challenge
Stop overcomplicating your life and join a global challenge so beautifully stupid it’s basically free therapy. Grab any scrap of paper—a receipt, old homework, or those final divorce papers—fold it into a boat, and snap a photo somewhere interesting enough to make the internet actually care. It sounds dumb, but people are somehow turning this into museum-level art, and frankly, we have nothing better to do. So quit scrolling, start folding, and #ShowYourBoat. Because let’s be honest: the dumbest ideas are always the ones worth doing. Let’s go.
They told us we were doing it wrong.At the yacht club down the road, they have a name for everything. They have a rule for every rope, a "proper" way to tie a knot, and they’ll give you a dirty look if you leave your fenders hanging over the side for one second too long.We decided to go Against the Current.We realized that while they were busy polishing their brass and checking their GPS, we were actually having fun. We were the ones laughing, getting salt in our hair, and calling "port" the "left side" just to see their heads spin.At Railmeat Apparel, we live for the Intentional Drift.To us, Drift isn't about being lost. It’s about being free. It’s what happens when you turn off the engine of expectations and just let the water take you. It’s about rethinking the rigging, rerigging the rules, and remembering why we fell in love with the water in the first place.Our symbol is the Paper Boat. It’s simple, it’s defiant, and it shouldn't survive the waves—but it does. Just like us.What to expect from us:• Gear designed for the "Fender-Down" lifestyle.• Zero snobbery.• A healthy disregard for "official" nautical terms.Thanks for joining the crew. It’s time to stop following the herd and start finding your own drift.Stay Unmoored,
1. Drift (v.) The act of intentionally disconnecting from the "proper" way of doing things. While the yacht club is obsessed with the destination, we are obsessed with the state of being. To drift is to be free from the engine of expectation.
2. Left-ish (adj.) Commonly referred to by "serious" sailors as Port. We find that "left" works just fine, especially when you're holding a drink in the other hand.
3. The White-Pants Brigade (n.) The group of people at the marina who spend more time polishing their stainless steel than actually feeling the spray of the ocean. Usually found judging your knot-tying skills from a distance.
4. Fender-Down (adj.) A badge of honor. A sign that the crew is relaxed, the vibe is right, and we couldn't care less about the "etiquette" of docking. If the fenders are down, the stress is low.
5. Rerigging (v.) The process of taking an old, boring tradition and making it work for you. It’s rethinking the rules, the gear, and the lifestyle. If it doesn't make sense, rerig it.
6. The Pulling-String (n.) The rope (or "line," if you’re being snobby) used to make the big triangle thing go up. If it gets the job done, the name doesn't matter.
7. Railmeat (n.) The most important people on the boat. The ones with their legs over the side, faces in the wind, balancing the weight and feeling the current. The soul of the crew.
8. Paper Boat Logic (n.) The belief that you don't need a million-dollar hull to own the water. It’s about the spirit of the vessel, not the price tag. If it floats, it's a ship.
9. The Right-ish Side (adj.) Known to the "Brigade" as Starboard. We use it to describe the direction of the sunset or the nearest cooler.
10. Current (n.) The force that tells everyone to go one way. We prefer to go the other way.
Because you aren't trying to win the America’s Cup. Probably.
Most nautical brands are built for the 1% of sailors who are currently mid-ocean, fighting for their lives against a 50-foot wave. We think those guys are heroes. We also think they’re probably very cold.
Railmeat Apparel is built for the rest of us.
"If you’re looking for a $900 technical smock that can survive a trip to the moon, go buy a Helly. If you’re looking to rethink the rigging and have a better time on the water, you’re home."
