The first two legs of our cruising life could not have been more different. On the first 5 days, it was so rough that I only managed to brush my teeth twice during the entire passage; then from Bermuda to Dominica I was able to brush every day! Honestly, there was a bit of trepidation on my part as we left the safe St. George’s harbor. Weather forecasts are usually only accurate for 2-3 days. This next leg would be 200 miles longer than our previous one. What might the days bring? I was expecting physical challenges, what I what I didn’t anticipate were my own personal challenges. As Bermuda faded in our view we were sailing and it was lovely!
When night came the sky filled with such a vast amount of stars that it was difficult even to find familiar constellations. There was a clear ray of moonlight over the water that was surprising given that la Luna was only a quarter full. Far from the interference of man-made light the moon seems to shine twice as bright. I am fortunate that when I am tired, I can sleep just about anywhere – and the cockpit seat – hard-surfaced and too short for my length – worked just fine. I drifted off to sleep with my spirit soaring in the heavens above.
Once my initial queasiness went away, in 1 -2 days, I was able to cook and read and fully enjoy the experience. Dan and I have passed many an hour reading to one another, first as we took long car rides and now as we make extended passages. On Dan’s recommendation we devoured the novel Northern Borders by Frank Mosher that chronicles the lives of a rugged New England family. Peering into the intricacies of these people’s stories sent me into a reflection of my own family and the loss I have experienced over the past 5 years by the death of both of my parents. Next we launched into Whom the Sea Has Taken by William Willis – the tale of a single man who at 70, after having worked hard his entire life sailed a raft from Peru across the Pacific to Australia. The complexities of these two themes sent me into a dramatic state of self-examination. Or perhaps it was the gentle rocking of the sea that insisted that I go deeper into myself. I felt naked and newly born without a known identity.
What does it mean to be a cruiser? My old familiar descriptors are gone. Daughter, homeowner, member of a congregation, drumming circle participant, part of the community; even my role as mother is redefined. Work hard, play hard and do unto others as you would want them to do to you… And so that is what I have done all the years of my life… “Where do you live, what do you do?” My answers seem vague… What am I supposed to be doing? Is it OK to take some time to wander through life, looking, paying attention, and learning? Sadness came over me and I shed many a tear in the ocean breeze. Uncertainty caused me to want to have the answers. I do not have the answers now. Can I live with that? After I processed these emotions by myself I talked to Dan. He listens; he hears. We talked about what it means to each of us to be traveling and taking the time to be “undefined”. We are committed to support each other while we learn about our own inner self. Choosing to live this life without a prescription is a much harder way to be. When I was younger I wondered if people chose religions with rigid doctrines so they could ascribe to what was taught. It is far more difficult to gather ones own data and evaluate it. I remain excited about this journey we are on. This inquisition is not about my happiness but rather about my value as a human being. I realize I need to evaluate as this evolves. I intend to observe my interactions with others and assess my self-honesty and assess how that affects those I come in contact with.
When night came the sky filled with such a vast amount of stars that it was difficult even to find familiar constellations. There was a clear ray of moonlight over the water that was surprising given that la Luna was only a quarter full. Far from the interference of man-made light the moon seems to shine twice as bright. I am fortunate that when I am tired, I can sleep just about anywhere – and the cockpit seat – hard-surfaced and too short for my length – worked just fine. I drifted off to sleep with my spirit soaring in the heavens above.
Once my initial queasiness went away, in 1 -2 days, I was able to cook and read and fully enjoy the experience. Dan and I have passed many an hour reading to one another, first as we took long car rides and now as we make extended passages. On Dan’s recommendation we devoured the novel Northern Borders by Frank Mosher that chronicles the lives of a rugged New England family. Peering into the intricacies of these people’s stories sent me into a reflection of my own family and the loss I have experienced over the past 5 years by the death of both of my parents. Next we launched into Whom the Sea Has Taken by William Willis – the tale of a single man who at 70, after having worked hard his entire life sailed a raft from Peru across the Pacific to Australia. The complexities of these two themes sent me into a dramatic state of self-examination. Or perhaps it was the gentle rocking of the sea that insisted that I go deeper into myself. I felt naked and newly born without a known identity.
What does it mean to be a cruiser? My old familiar descriptors are gone. Daughter, homeowner, member of a congregation, drumming circle participant, part of the community; even my role as mother is redefined. Work hard, play hard and do unto others as you would want them to do to you… And so that is what I have done all the years of my life… “Where do you live, what do you do?” My answers seem vague… What am I supposed to be doing? Is it OK to take some time to wander through life, looking, paying attention, and learning? Sadness came over me and I shed many a tear in the ocean breeze. Uncertainty caused me to want to have the answers. I do not have the answers now. Can I live with that? After I processed these emotions by myself I talked to Dan. He listens; he hears. We talked about what it means to each of us to be traveling and taking the time to be “undefined”. We are committed to support each other while we learn about our own inner self. Choosing to live this life without a prescription is a much harder way to be. When I was younger I wondered if people chose religions with rigid doctrines so they could ascribe to what was taught. It is far more difficult to gather ones own data and evaluate it. I remain excited about this journey we are on. This inquisition is not about my happiness but rather about my value as a human being. I realize I need to evaluate as this evolves. I intend to observe my interactions with others and assess my self-honesty and assess how that affects those I come in contact with.
There is a symbolic lesson in the way the sea moves you along with the wind and the current and the roll of the sea. This past 820 nm not only brought me to the Dominican Republic, it brought me to a new awareness.
