“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who sailed into it.” Haruki Murakami
To be totally honest, the first year and a half of our sailing career came with its share of challenges. While we thought our boat was well prepared and that we were well prepared for venturing out to sea, we had no idea how little we really knew. When I think back, I can list many more difficult days than smooth ones. We had more things break, and more problems arise than I ever thought possible. Then, on our very first ocean crossing from the east coast to the US Virgin Islands, we got caught in terrible weather and had to return back from where we started. We sustained a lot of damage. From that day on the thought of doing another long ocean passage filled me with fear.
I have to admit that each of our subsequent smaller passages between the US, Bermuda, and the Virgin Islands did not go as smoothly as I would have liked. There were many days with rough weather, strong winds, heavy seas, and as each of those storms approached, I had flashbacks of our first trip and became fearful and anxious. I didn’t know how to shake that feeling and get my confidence back. I wondered if I was capable of ever being comfortable on a long ocean crossing.
Our first season, we spent the winter in the Bahamas getting our feet wet and familiar with our boat. This year, we spent several months in the American and British Virgin Islands. We island hopped, had one thing after another break, go wrong, and numerous repairs to make. It seemed an endless cycle of nothing but work and repairs. I even lost my desire to blog because I had more negative things to say than positive. Such as it was, I knew the time was coming when we would be heading back to Bermuda and staging for our 1,800-mile passage to Europe. While I was excited to be finally heading across the globe, the thought of being at sea for 20 days made me fearful. During the six-day passage to Bermuda, I cried as we faced terrible weather, we pounded into heavy wind and waves, then our engine shut down and we had to be towed the last few miles into port. For me, it was a traumatic experience all around.
When it came to leaving Bermuda for the “big hop”, my biggest fear was the weather. I tried to put my concerns and worries behind and place my trust in my captain and our boat. We left Bermuda on a Wednesday for the Azores. There was not a breath of air that morning when we awoke. Several boats were also departing on that day and there was a queue to get through customs. We didn’t get our affairs in order and didn’t get checked out until after 12 noon. We were sure we were going to be off to a slow start with very little wind. That was the current weather prediction. As soon as we passed the ring of reefs around the island, the winds picked up into the teens. It was twice the breeze predicted, but it made for great sailing. From that day forward, there was no accuracy to any of the weather files we received and the wind was 2 to 3 times stronger than predicted for our first week of sailing.
Much to my dismay, the wind continued to gain strength. Winds howling relentlessly, waves pounding our boat, I questioned my ability to handle this trip. Again, I had anxiety, couldn’t believe how wrong the weather predictions were, and I asked myself if people who crossed oceans on sailboats were either masochists or certifiably insane. An entire week and beyond the weather was mostly brutal. The nice days were far and few between. I had been told by several people that this crossing would be a piece of cake. I thought of every one of them and wanted to go back and stamp “LIAR” on each of their foreheads.
I was reaching the point of being utterly miserable when something finally broke. I guess you have two options when faced with a wall. You can give up and look up never knowing what’s on the other side, or you can do what it takes to climb it. My brain made an unconscious decision that day that I was tired of looking up at the obstacles in front of me. I was going to surmount them. Suddenly, I had a peaceful feeling about our trip. The winds and waves were still cranking, our boat creaking, pounding and rocking, but like a switch being flipped, I was no longer afraid. I felt an acceptance, a calmness, a peacefulness, that I had never had during a crossing.
I’m not sure what precipitated this change in me. Maybe it was enough exposure to rough conditions that I finally realized, “Hey, we are fine. Our boat can handle wind and waves. Dan is more than capable of getting us through any weather. Things may be uncomfortable at times, but we have never been in any danger.” Mind you, I would be trepidatious facing a tropical storm or hurricane, but with today’s advanced warning, we should be able to avoid those. All the squalls, fronts, and nasty little pockets of weather are just part of the process. We finally have our boat ready and enough time out at sea that I can start enjoying the adventure of it all. And because of that revelation, I can now enjoy the journey instead of just the destinations. For those who believed in me, when I didn’t believe in myself, I want to say, “Thank You” for your faith. It was too long in coming.
We have been out to sea for 12 days and have another 500 miles to our destination, Flores, Azores. As one day floats into the next, I don’t even care about the weather reports. If it’s calm and breezy fine, if it’s rough, fine, it’s all good. I have different ways of handling the variations in weather. Calm days I cook and fish and lay in the sunshine. Rough days, I curl up in my comfy bed, stacked with pillows around me, and read for hours on end. I find it challenging to try and prepare food, as half the time I have to chase it around the cabin before I can get it to stay on the plates. When I toss my cookies, it really means they are literally flying around the cabin and I am on my hands and knees retrieving them from under the table.
As far as boredom, there really isn’t any. There is a smooth routine in our daily process of taking our watches, napping when we can, eating meals, and being amazed at the beauty all around us. We sometimes see a lone bird flying behind our boat. We wonder in awe how this bird found our boat when its hundreds of miles from any land. We are thrilled when a school of dolphins come for a visit and play in our bow wake. We watch the sunsets, the sunrises, the patterns of clouds and the swell of the waves. The knowledge of sailing across an ocean that our ancestors crossed for hundreds of years before us, is mind-boggling. Here we feel we are such adventurers and yet people have sailed over these very same coordinates with much less technology and in much less comfort than we have today.
Lastly, I think I finally get it. We are so fortunate that when we wake up every day we are taking on the challenges we have chosen. We are not on the clock working for someone else. We make our own schedule, pick where we want to be and when we want to get there, masters of our own domain. We work hard at this lifestyle but we are working for ourselves. We have given up the comforts of a house, and stability but we have tasted freedom. We have adventures before us, some will be good, some not so good, but as we travel into the unknown it is on our terms. We will be traveling to places most people only read about. We will be seeing sights that most people only look at in pictures. We know that we are taking a path less traveled and that at the end of most days we will be sore and tired, but no one can ever accuse us of not living life to the fullest.
In just a few days, we will be arriving in the port of Flores in the Azores on June 21st. It will be our 33rd wedding anniversary. How incredible is it that our dream of sailing around the world began the weekend we met? After 30 years, and all that has transpired, we will be arriving after our first major ocean crossing on our anniversary. We have had many miracles over the last year and a half of this new sailing lifestyle. We have had many signs that we are being guided and watched over as we take on this adventure. I’m thrilled that I have come to a place where I can trust in this process, not be fearful, just thankful for the opportunity. It is my hope that each new horizon we explore will be as captivating as I have imagined, and that through words and pictures we can share our experiences.
Crossing an ocean has changed me. I sailed through storms and came through changed. I learned that instead of being afraid, I need to adjust my sails. I left one side of the world as one person and I will be arriving at a new continent with a different perspective on life. I feel fortunate that through trial and by conquering my fears, I have reinvented myself. I may develop new fears, but for the time being, I’m happy that I have adapted and can seize this opportunity to grow as a person. May the adventures continue and may you live vicariously as we explore this beautiful planet. Europe! Here we come… a few pics from our voyage.
Dan and Alison
S/V Equus