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Like you, the idea of voyaging under sail infected me at an early age. I don’t think I took it seriously. It was a fantasy. People who actually did push-off were wild-eyed adventures or rich jet-setters. The reality of voyaging crept up on me slowly after years of day sailing, racing, and weekend cruises. One day I was idly going over family finances and it dawned on me that we might just have enough money go cruising. I worked a spreadsheet, looking at bills, rent, and cash-on-hand. It wasn’t something I’d anticipated or planned. It was just an amusing idea that I brought to the family dinner table one evening. Over tuna casserole I spun out the fantasy for my wife and son. To my amazement they nodded an approval. That was all there was to it! The decision was made and at that moment, it seemed that all the forces of our lives were turned to the tasks of finding a boat and setting our affairs in order for departure.

For some reason, the idea of pushing-off did not strike us as momentous. We just started moving forward, one step at a time, ticking off the items on our list. What did strike me as momentous was the reaction of people around us. Friends, family, and colleagues, were agog. My son, then eleven, came home from school one day, shaken. He told me that his friends laughed at him, betting him that he would never actually do it. Some people railed at us that we were crazy and insufferably irresponsible to even consider such a thing. “How dare you do that to your 11-year old”, scolded one woman, “he’ll be damaged for life”. One family member piously promised “prayer vigils”; to protect us I suppose, from storms, pirates, and sea monsters. A few people were more supportive, saying in tremulous voices, “Well isn’t that just wonderful”, wondering what secret windfall had lifted us free of the troubles and woes of the world.

Despite the reactions of others, our decision worked on us like an elixir. John Steinbeck wrote in Travels with Charlie, “You don’t take a trip, a trip takes you”. In the past life had been mostly something that happened to us. The few choices we had made had been rather small and inconsequential. An adventurous vacation ended in a few weeks, and then we returned to our house, our beds, our television, and our everyday habits. Now we were embarked upon a voyage that was gathering strength and speed. I felt us approaching escape velocity. G-forces pushed our faces against our skulls. Soon we’d break free and be launched to–err, um, ah… Well we hadn’t figured that part out yet.

I hit the Pause button to consider these events.

Right out of the starting gate the voyaging thing had started messing with my brain. In the normal world there had been few opportunities to make profoundly life-affecting choices. Either out of fear or for lack of opportunity I’d spent most of my life reacting to what the world dished out. I’d never really taken the helm. The moment you make the decision to put to sea in a small boat, you’ve tasted the satisfaction of self-determination. From that point forward you’re doing it every minute of every day. It’s your ship. You decide were to go. You steer. Take that away once you’ve experienced it and you start feeling cranky.

(To be continued)

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