Getting Close

We’re two days away from launching and if things go according to plan, just a day over a week from sailing away. The days are hectic, running down lists of last minute things, the mind racing ahead trying to pierce the impenetrable shield of foreseeing the many things that might be happening out there. One thing is crystal clear during those days of extreme intensity: Our mind is floating over a foundation of fear. How much would I love to follow the well trodden paths of looking away, actively trying to ignore the strange feeling that is twisting my guts into ever tighter turns. I cannot. I’m fascinated by the fact that I’m finally able to see that all our treasured knowledge, all we are able to understand with the blunt instrument of our thinking has one sole purpose in the practical world. It is put there with the precise intention to hide and cover that wall of fear, the absolute vulnerability towards things to come, the total lack of control we have over our lives. Once we have made the effort to boldly go beyond what convention dictates, that is. To follow convention in turn will always reward us with the sweet sensation that everything can be calculated within the boundaries of controlled behavior.

The early morning hours are where it’s most intense. All trust in the technology of the vessel has vanished. The mind uses the relentlessly pounding sea to take apart bit by bit each crucial feat of engineering, every intent of mitigation is immediately curtailed to let the worst case scenario deepen until the breathing sounds hollow in the lungs, the heartbeat hastens, the stomach cramps up, the ego is in danger of losing its sanity for good. What is the purpose of this, my curiosity feverishly asks. There must be a reason that life permits and fosters such emotional contortions, such miserable mind games, such cruel self-dissection, such masochistic honesty. The good thing is that if you hang in there and play this Russian Roulette long enough it will come to an end, there is a ton of practical stuff to do out there after all and all this fear exists only before you step out into the void. The echo of it though manages to linger on pretty much throughout the day.

The stores are on board. Over 70 gallons of water tucked away in all the nooks and crannies of the irregular shapes inside the hulls. The relationships are tense, showing their true substance, the gap between those who go and those who stay widens, for a short while we’re unaware that we’re all one of the same, the movement is totally random and relative.

The rudder is fixed, seems to be working in the dry, only the wet will tell. The port outboard motor stuttered quickly when I jerked the starter cord, a good sign, but by no means a guarantee that it will really work when we need it to leave through the harbor channel, with the wind straight on the nose. But there is the vision of the jagged mountain peaks of Nuku Hiva, Hiva Oa and Bora Bora pulling against all imaginable odds from out there beyond the horizon, so friends, we will be signing off soon. This might be the last post for a while, unless I figure out a way to drop a couple lines from the tiny screen of the cell phone browser, while we wiggle down the Big Islands peaceful leeward coast, preparing mentally and shipshape wise for sticking our bows out past South Point into the roaring swell of the trade winds funneling around the worlds biggest volcano. See you soon!

5 Responses to “Getting Close”

  1. Neil Says:

    Fair winds to you both, Aluna will look after you. I’m with you in spirit as I work to follow in your wake.

  2. Chris Says:

    Best wishes from one of your longtime lurkers in UK – it would appear that the only way is up!

  3. david Says:

    om na ma shivaya y tambien vaya con las diosas

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