Every so often I need to remind myself that sailing is forever bound to one of the strongest, most unpredictable forces of nature and that yes, it causes trouble most of the time. A rocking boat, waves, getting blown across the marina when the motor stalls – all of these things don’t happen to me when I’m on my couch or lawn chair on the porch. Ceiling fans spin and there’s not a ripple on the surface of my margarita, I have music on the radio, food in the fridge and a comfortable bathroom. I’m kinda bored. Am I going to drive down to the marina, climb on the boat, break a sweat and hope everything isn’t corroded?
DAMN SURE.
This post isn’t your Opraesque “Let’s grow as people” fluff. It’s more of a “let’s get that dock bound boat out on water”. After a little work on Nola yesterday, I took a short walk around the marina docks and looked at other people’s motionless sailing dreams. Seems like most of them haven’t budged in months – maybe years. I’m guilty too – sometimes a few months wiz by without Nola seeing the mouth of the channel. Projects, visitors, family – it all adds up to lost weekends on the water. Not to say these things are bad, it’s just that they displace sailing. I need to make time.
Here’s the motivational rant. Schedule a time and take your boat out. Cast off the dock lines and go. Start small, just go out for a couple hours. I find that a short easy trip always leads to bigger ones. Take a few drinks, a bag of chips and see where the wind takes you. Remember why you have that sailboat, why you pay the slip and license fees and ENJOY it. I truly, truly believe that you do grow as a person (damn, I said it) after you have accomplished something that you would not normally do. My crew and I have camped on some islands in bad weather, not wanting to call off the trip thinking that it “might not be as bad as they say”. Ug – we spent a weekend on a hunk of rock in the intracoastal that was really tough to take. Cold, wind, rain and getting up at 2:00 a.m. to move the boat to the other side of the island when the howling wind switched directions. At the time everyone was toughing it out, but wishing they were home. I thought for sure I would never be able to coax these guys out for another hair-brained trip, but a week later we were planning the next one. That windy-island weekend has become one of our greatest triumphs and lives on every time there’s a few beers around.
I think the more severe an Out of Zone experience is, the more rewarding it is – way afterwards. Two years ago we (Yes! The same guys, they’re either drunk or nuts, some of both I suspect) chartered a bareboat 38 Island Packet from Port Charlotte to The Dry Tortugas. Again, crappy, crappy weather forecast but the boat was paid for and vacation days were taken. We went. The first 24 hours on the water put us in the midst of 35-40 knot Northwest winds. There were 4 of us and two were down seasick. Me and my seagoing brother-in-law steered the boat the full 24 hours switching off every two or three. It was near impossible to sleep with the horrendous following sea throwing the boat port to starboard in almost one lurch. Everything on board rattled, clunked and banged. I don’t claim to be a seasoned offshore sailor, just somebody who’s up for anything. I thought for sure I bit off more than we could chew on this one and it could get hairy. My biggest fear was one of the seasick guys would get too dehydrated, but he managed to keep some gatorade in him, cling to his bunk and mutter a few expletives. When we finally dropped anchor at Ft. Jefferson I was completely exhausted physically and emotionally. As I flopped down on my bunk, I swore out loud that I would sell all my sailboats and never do anything like this again – and at the time I was serious, strange how the brain works. The trip back was not as bad, but it had it’s moments. Another approaching front (from the other direction) had us on the run for home. We made it to Charlotte Harbor just before it hit and all I could do was thank the gods that we weren’t out in it. I thought “is it always freaking like this?!?” I must not be cutout to be a cruiser. Less than two days later I was back to my sail-nut self and couldn’t stop talking about the big adventure. It was like childbirth (my knowledge on that is not first hand), the pain of the trip had been blocked out and only the good remained.
I think of that trip all the time. It’s a major feather in my life achievement cap and the memories will be with me forever. The day my brother-in-law called and said “I quit my job, let’s go sailing!” was monumental and made me understand why we live for OOZE. Life is a lot more fun with a 30+ knot wind at your back and a rolling sea. It’s even better when you’re with the crew in your favorite pub, rum in hand, living it all over again.
