I know, I know. I should have written days ago, when the salt was still crusty on my face and my hands still frozen into curled pink claws. You can read all about Saturday's near-hurricane force winds below. It's a little challenging to keep up with documenting it all. If there's one thing I'm learning, it's that sailors spend every spare moment cataloguing their lives. It's important stuff. It's not just about
technicalities; this is a spiritual journey, and it demands documentation. If I am to be a sailor, I need to fully embrace all parts of my vocation. Feelings, dreams, to-dos, accomplishments... it's all waiting to be written down alongside positions, locations, and shopping lists. Sailors are meticulous. Sailors are prolific. Sailors are just like me. Maybe that's why this whole sailing thing seems both wildly unorthodox and seamlessly fitting all at once. I've found My People.
Saturday was thrilling. It was a two hour roller coaster ride. The
carnie holding the ropes was
Ben, who laughed like a madman the whole time. His partner in crime was
Fisher, a true man o' the sea if ever there was one. A few shots of rum to stay our nerves and we were off. Forty knot winds gusting to 50, rail in the water at a 45 degree angle, and me wrapping my tiny cold hands around anything that would keep me aboard. Two hours went by in a heartbeat.
I am SO encouraged by the friends we are making along the way. Everyone who learns we have just bought a boat smiles giddily like I've just announced Santa Claus is in the next room. Everyone is so helpful, so friendly, so NICE to us. I think it's because we all understand (even those of us who haven't fully realized it yet) that we've all just sunk lots of our hard earned money into something that has the potential to both kill us and bring us the greatest satisfaction we have ever known. Everyone, and I mean
EVERYone, who has sailed and has found out about our boat gets this LOOK. I can't quite explain it. It's like we are all part of this secret society and they are thrilled that we've just joined. Sailors seem to
know something the rest of us don't.
I keep trying to compare this
camaraderie to the
camaraderie I see amongst folks attracted to other "adventurous" lifestyles... I think about my back-country skiing friends, or friends who mountain bike, or rock climb, or kayak... we don't talk much about what those short bouts of adrenaline and communion with nature do to their
psyches. I can only imagine that their experiences bring them closer to
understanding profound things about the power of nature, her indifference to one's survival, and the thrill of accomplishing when all signs are pointing to "ridiculous way to die". There seems to be something different about sailing folks. The mountain climbers and
kayakers I know are gravely aware of their risks and face them with seriousness and calculation. I think sailors do too... but they seem to do it with a splash of whimsy and romance. They seem to understand disaster is part of the package. I don't sense that adventure sport folks consider failure an option. Sailors know it comes with the territory. They almost embrace it. They know their dreams are laden with folly, their goals a bit hazy and surely riddled with detours, but they chase them anyway. There is a certain lightheartedness in the people I've met. It is this lightheartedness, plus their love of a good drink and good story, that keeps me believing I have chosen my folly well.