I signed up for a passage with the famous John Kretschmer to sail 1,000 nautical miles and look for heavy weather. I need to face my fears of storms so I can be level headed and an asset to Dan when we finally do embark. I am facing my fears. But when I sent the email to get information about the passage, I told John, “I don’t really have many assets when it comes to sailing, I am just a farm girl.” Right after I sent the email, I went out to spend quality time with myself, dragging the ring with tractor. I started up the clunky diesel engine and pulled the drag across the craggy surface, smoothing it nicely with my metal drag and had time to think. I really need to give myself more credit. Being “just a farm girl” means I have a whole lot of practical life experience. I should not sell myself short.
Let’s take the ability to train a horse for example. Believe it or not, horses and boats are very similar. In a way, they are both living entities. John K. always writes in his books about having the ability to know your boat, what she is capable of, how she sails the best. Maintain her, listen to her, take care of her and she will take care of you. Horses are very much the same. Take care of them and they take care of you. If you know your horse inside and out, you have that feeling that anything is possible. And whether riding a horse or sitting behind the helm of a sailboat, it is all about feel. Both have distinctive ways of moving that if you listen to, and remain in harmony with, you get the ultimate performance from. Horses and boats are sensitive, reactive, powerful, and have the ability to move forward with great speed. Understand and working with that power, whether wind or hoof driven, is the same basic concept. When I ride a horse it is truly amazing to find that perfect place of balance, pressure on the reins, legs and seat totally melting in timing with the horse’s strides…. I could picture myself on a boat, sails trimmed, healing at the perfect angle and the hum of the helm beneath my hands as we find the sailing sweet spot. It is just another living entity responding to touch, balance and harmony.
People who live on a farm never rest. There are lives calling you at all hours of the day and night. Crisis situations arrive, involving life or death that must be faced with calm, clear, decisive actions. With the dawn of every new day, the responsibilities remain constant and must be attended to even if you are tired or sick, and there are no holidays. You can never ignore hunches or feeling that something is not right because if you do, something will surely go wrong. You build up your little black box daily, filled with paybacks, when you take the time to check the latch on that gate, place that pitchfork back where it belongs, and get out of bed in the middle of night to check on that animal that seemed slightly out of sorts at feeding time. Sailing, I am told, is much the same lifestyle. The sea is always out there, presenting new challenges and obstacles. One must be ever present in watching, going with the gut instincts, and being meticulous about checking and rechecking that everything is in order. One ignored instinct can lead to disaster.
Unlike most of our fellow Americans who can spend an entire day on a couch without a pang of regret, or who can spend an entire weekend relaxing because they have nothing pressing to do, being just a farm girl has never afforded me that luxury. My life is filled with the constant pressure to attend to ever-present needs and has trained me well in the feeling of being watchful and responsible. There are no shortcuts, very few vacations, and quality of life is based on dependability, perseverance and a lot of physical labor. So if I had it to do all over again, I would write that email to John Kretschmer and tell him:
Dear John,
I am prepared to take my first ocean passage with you. I am a farm girl. I can handle a crisis with clear and quick thinking. I am observant, proactive, and always go the extra mile to make sure things are done right. I will rise easily in the middle of the night to take my shifts, and be ready to face all my responsibilities with the dawning of each new day. I understand the need to watch, listen and pay attention to hunches, rather than ignore them and hope for the best. I do not tire of constant pressure to handle responsibility and thrive on the opportunity to keep my mind and body engaged. While I may have fears about the unknown components of a vast ocean, I have in my repertoire the ability to adapt and face those fears with determination. I will persevere until I know and understand our vessel and will treat her with respect, finding harmony and balance with her every movement.
Sincerely,
Alison
