For at least a year and a half I have been thinking about sailing. There are two main reasons for this. Firstly, Darwin, surrounded by an ocean with limited swimming availability, encourages fantasies about getting on top of the water, as a compromise for not being able to get in it. Secondly, I have spoken with a handful of admirable, adventurous women who have sailed and lived to tell tales that make me want a piece of the action.
Sailing appeals to my romantic aesthetic. Sailing appeals to my desire for challenging situations. My dreams of sailing include my assumption that the strong desire to be on the water will be the antidote for my proven physical ailment (seasickness) once on the water.
Yesterday I had the opportunity to sail with my Juneau friend Rick. Here is an excerpt from my journal last night:
'Sailing today. I thought I was going to die. I almost cried when Rick asked if I was OK.
I had no points of reference for how safe stuff was and what was normal (heel, wind, cold, guts, closeness to rocks). It's so loose out there. No rules. Just your wits to save you. Not enough fuel to get anywhere - and the story of the gas tank unscrewed with (maybe) a plank of wood to protect the hull from the sharp corner of the heavy gas tank, loose in the hull as the boat heeled from side to side. I was really scared. I'm glad I'm alive.
'I didn't cry. And I helped where i could. And I didn't get in the way. I didn't have fun, but I didn't lie about it either. I may have lost my sense of humou and that is a shame, but I didn't treat anyone badly, or cop out, or ask to go home. I dealt with it.
'Do i have a strong mind? I don't know about that. I doubted, yes. But everything was relying on two people who had displayed lax safety standards. I felt unempowered to help or assist. I think I did OK but I feel disappointed in myself. For not enjoying the adventure. By wishing every second that it was all over. By being so moved by the fear that i couldn't even rebound into hyperactivity once I was safe - like a dented tin-can I just stayed humourless and a little distanced from the two men who had initiated the voyage that made me afraid. Like they'd done something to me. There's a part of me that thinks them irresponsible. I could have been a lot warmer, had more clothes on, generally been more prepared. But that's the opposite of their style.'
What does this say for my future of sailing home from America? Well, that I will dress warmer.
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