Even on a calm day with only three to six knots of wind, Cape Scott gave us a learning experience we will not soon forgot. This video shows some reflections on the day of our rounding, but such a powerful experience warrants some deeper reflection and sharing. I find I can’t paint a picture of the day the way I would like – the way the fog enveloped everything, the way the anxiety of what lay ahead wrenched our stomachs, the way the waves built and built, then became swells, then became confused from all directions, then became soft swell from behind us, the way unsecured things came crashing off of shelves and cabinets and doors banged open. But instead of painting a full picture, I can reflect a little on what we learned.
I learned that I am not immune to the inevitable mal de mer. I also learned – as Tom put my queasy head and hands on the helm – that steering, dodging logs, and focusing on the rise and fall of the bow is my cure for seasickness. I learned how to steer in bigger seas than I’ve ever experienced, both with the swell in front and from the stern. I learned what ocean swell feels like. I learned what no sight of land feels like. I learned what stepping foot onto solid land feels like after a hard day.
Together we all learned that the kids can handle more than we thought. We learned that even the cat had trouble regaining her balance after a rough day. We learned where every piece of unsecured gear was. We learned that huge logs can appear over a swell in a millisecond, threatening the integrity of your precious propeller. We learned that the ocean here is littered with sea otters! We laughed at our naivete on our first sea otter sighting the day before, turning the boat around to get pictures, not realizing that we would see them every four or five minutes throughout the whole Cape Scott trip. We learned that sea otters can look a lot like logs, that waves can look like boats, and that tired eyes can play horrible tricks on a brain in the fog. We learned that our boat is strong and can handle the ocean.
Above all, we learned that we can work as a team. That we can and need to communicate with each other about how we feel and what we need at any given moment. It will not be the last time we will need to draw on that lesson. Cape Scott gave us much to learn, much to reflect on, and the confidence to recognize what we still have yet to learn and plan how to do it.
Wow! I’m proud of you and I’m breathing a sigh of relief. I’m reminded of a saying we used to share with some sailing friends, “adventures are rarely fun when you’re having them, but they grow in the telling”.
Yes, exactly, Lynn! It was not a fun day, but looking back on it, it will be an experience that will have changed us. And pushing ourselves out of our comfort zone certainly added to our learning.
I learned I need to take deep breaths and trust my daughter and son in law. I learned they still have a lot to learn, and so do I. I learned what I already knew – they are very capable adults who are as well prepared as they could be for something new and dangerous and exhilarating. I learned that I’m still nervous about them taking MY grandchildren off into the wild blue yonder. I learned I have to let go. Congratulations on a job well done.
WOW! And, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
I’ve reached an age where the only thrills I can tolerate are vicarious ones! Your blog is filling the bill to a T!
Of course, I’m tickled everything worked out so that even the ticks in the L column became ticks in the W column by the time all was said and done. You are proving to be a resourceful, resilient team (kids and kitty included!)
You are sailing the channels of the heroes, myths, and legends of yore where the most courageous adventurers put themselves in the maw of the challenge, scared the f*ck outa themselves, and went back for more. Every second of success came packed with a dozen lessons. Luck had something to do with it, but learning and adapting did, too.
I hope the kids are chatting into a recorder (or you are taking notes) of their observations, questions, responses, and favorite things. They will have an heirloom that they will be able to revisit when they are adults, an heirloom they can share with their own children.
I’m in the high desert of New Mexico, but I can smell, taste, and feel the salt spray from here!
Be well and keep these posts comin’, please.
p.s. Bonnie–I wish there were a way to allay your fears, but to tell the truth, I feel my heart skip a beat every time I see there is another post from your daughter. I know better than to be glib with reassurance for you, but I truly do have a sense there is a book or movie in this whole deal. I would like an invitation to the champagne toasts when the journey is complete.
Thanks for the words of encouragement, Vicki! I’m glad to hear you can taste the salt spray from New Mexico. We certainly can here. Everything is full of salt. We are trying to document what we can of our observations, though I think that will get easier as the kids write and draw more and as I learn to delineate more time for it. I have started at least to jot down observations that are just lists and am accepting that not everything written down has to be in complete sentences. It’s a start! Thanks for your encouragement. It does help me, as I sometimes question whether it is worth it to find the time for the documentation. It IS worth it, as it will be the heirloom I hope we can pass down.