It has been a while since I have had the opportunity to write a blog post about sailing. Summer is the heat of battle for me in the equestrian vaulting world. One would think that having a boat and sailing is the farthest thing from my mind, when I spend 10 hours a day outside lounging horses and coaching vaulters. In truth, however, it is during these times that my craving for future sailing adventures are at their height.
Most of the people who know Dan and I, know us in the context of our land lives. We have horses, play polo, ride, manage our farm, and boats and oceans are not even mentioned in the course of our normal routines. Most of our friends and relatives who contemplate the adventure we are choosing to embark upon, have the same thought process. One, you two are going to go crazy being alone together that long, and two, you are going to miss all this. For most people, I would agree. The solitude of being alone together would end many relationships, and most people who have led fairly normal lives could not contemplate living aboard a boat. While Dan and I are not disillusioned about the difficulties we will face, we do have strong convictions that this is our destiny and the rewards of our adventures will far outweigh the negative moments.
While we have not had extended times out at sea together, the longer voyages we have had, bode well for our sailing compatibility. The first trial by fire, was our two week honeymoon aboard a 40ft. Hunter in the Virgin Islands. At this point in our lives, we only had a long distant relationship to judge our suitability for one another and had never spent two weeks together, alone, period. The entire two weeks in the Islands, that particular June, met us with 30 knots of relentless winds for the duration of our honeymoon voyage. The wind was so strong, that each night, we threatened to drag anchor and spent sleepless shifts watching and waiting for signs that our boat was shifting from her evening perch. The challenges were great and through the heavy winds, rough seas and even a sudden and violent storm, our wits remained, our communication was fluid and our trust in one another did not waiver.
Through the past 27 years of marriage, we have had several voyages aboard the Dove, one of them being a 10 day passage through the inland waterway from New Bern, NC to Bowley’s Quarters in MD. It was during this passage that we tested the process of spending lengthy hours alone, on a boat, in a solitary environment. What most people don’t realize, is that being on the boat is not like being trapped in an apartment together. It may be about the same size on the inside, but when sitting in the cockpit of that boat, you feel as if you have the freedom of the entire universe at your fingertips.
We spent hours traveling at slow speeds up the narrow waterway, not encountering another boat or human being for days at a time. We couldn’t put the sails up, did not have the ocean waves playing alongside us, or the endless view of an ocean horizon teasing us forward, but every moment was still magical. We sat for hours, talking, or not talking. It really didn’t matter. We shared thoughts, had thoughts of our own, but there was never a listlessness or a remote feeling of boredom. Every sight, every sound, every breath of life around us, hiding from under the murky water, peeking from beneath a log or a protruding tree limb, piqued our curiosity and intrigue. There was an absolute feeling of peace and serenity in the quieter moments, and shared excitement in anything unique that popped up along the journey. We took delight in the rising and setting of the sun, the feel of the air, the ripples of the water and every aspect of living and breathing aboard our boat.
The serenity of the waterways was just one aspect of the journey. We also crossed large bodies of water where the seas became quite angry and we were buffeted by large waves, heavy wind, and the challenge of stormy conditions. While creature comforts were put behind us and the chill of the air and the constant battle to keep the boat sailing in heavy air became our focus, there was a thrill for both of us in this challenge, as well. There were difficult moments, ones in which our skills were challenged and there were even fearful thoughts creeping into our minds. But after enduring the rough weather, watching the clouds vanish, the seas unfurl and the gentler winds settling against our stern, the feeling of accomplishment was amazing.
After almost 8 hours of one such gale, the boat cruising on the remnants of the retiring storm, we looked in awe around us. The sun was setting and beginning to cast its colors on the slowing settling waves, and there was not one boat or sign of human life as far as our eyesight could stretch. We were approaching land and our evening harbor and the arrival of Captain’s Hour was gratefully met with kinder conditions. We snuggled against the cockpit cushions and raised our glasses to a good fight, tired but feeling very accomplished. Suddenly, the quiet sound of the water rushing against our hull was shattered by an intense blowing sound followed by a loud splash. This sound was replicated from every side of the boat. We jumped to our feet and steadied ourselves against the lifelines, searching for the source of the unexpected sound. We were greeted by a pod of dolphins, jumping, playing, broaching in vast numbers around our boat. We looked at each other, laughed, and hugged in the precious moment that we had been greeted by friends from the sea. They watched our trials, felt our fear, knew that we were new to their world, and were there to tell us, “job well done.” They danced and played in our wake as we traveled nearer to our destination. We watched in fascination, totally enraptured by the scene around us. Then, as silently as they arrived, the dolphins slipped away with the flick of their tales and final splash. Dan and I do believe in miracles and know that there are no coincidences. We take each special moment such as this, as signs, that we are meant to be part of that world.
We both agree that the diversity of sailing in all conditions is what makes the sailing life so appealing to us. We can appreciate the quiet moments, and we look forward to the challenges. It is unfathomable to us, others can’t image the diversity and unlimited potential that blue water cruising represents. Boredom, feeling trapped or cooped up, are not fears for us. Each moment, represents an opportunity for serenity, beauty, exposure to a vast universe, and an unbelievable feeling of freedom and adventure. And while we bide our time, continuing life with our friends, loved ones and animals, we cherish each moment. When the transition finally occurs from land to boat, we will look back with fond memories of all that we have done. We are grateful and blessed for all that we have been able to experience, but there will be no hesitation in proceeding with our next adventure. It is our hope that those who can’t imagine the new shift in our lives will come and visit our home on the sea, so that we may open their eyes and allow them to experience our next little piece of heaven.
