I WAS ONCE introduced to a
man who sailed a Wayfarer 16-foot dinghy among the islands of the Salish Sea,
here in the Pacific Northwest. He was very modest when he learned I’d crossed
oceans. “I only take little voyages, and never out of sight of land,” he said.
I assured him that small,
gentle voyages can generate as much joy and satisfaction as long adventurous
ones.
The man or woman who
gingerly sails a dinghy along a friendly shore is no less worthy of our respect
than the sailor who braves the open ocean.
We all have our own areas
of anxiety and doubt in our own abilities, and when we conquer our fears it is
just as much a triumph to cross the bay as it is for someone of sterner nature
to cross an ocean.
And yet, human nature
being what it is, we tend to judge other sailors by the size of their boats and
how far they’ve traveled: their most distant ports, and the length of their
voyages.
Now it is true that
sailors who cross oceans in small boats perform impressive feats of seamanship
because they sail the same seas as big commercial ships that have large crews
specializing in the various skills needed to move people and cargoes across
oceans. Sailboat sailors are their own cooks and navigators. They are their own
engineers and riggers. They handle the sails and anchors and electrical
circuits. And they face exactly the same hazards as large ships, including the
storms, the rocks, and even pirates.
Yet, at the same time, to
take a small boat across a body of water of any size is no small feat. To each
his own goals and ambitions. We all set our own limits, and who can gainsay our
individual achievements? What we all seek deep down is a feeling of ability, of
achievement, of confidence. And sailing a small boat on a small voyage often
does generate the confidence we need to deal with the greater troubles the
world constantly throws at us.
Seamanship is as much a
set of the mind as anything else. And small, simple boats can afford pleasure
and gratification out of all proportion to their cost. We are the only ones fit
to judge our seamanship. We challenge ourselves, we feel fear, and sometimes we
get more fear than we bargained for, but we learn and we gain confidence, and
are not as frightened quite as much the next time. And there always is a next
time for those who challenge themselves.
Today’s
Thought
Keep
your fears to yourself, but share your courage.
— R. L. Stevenson
Tailpiece
The greatest area of unemployment in the world today is
the region just north of the ear.
2 comments:
One doesn't have to cross oceans to go "cruising." Cruising is a state of mind. There are things to see and explore as near at hand as there are on foreign shores.
Wonderful article (and comment from Richard). I'll remember this the next time I feel like my little accomplishments as a new sailor are still achievements nonetheless. And yes, "cruising" is a state of mind: not just ponying up to a dock or bar, but exploring and being curious.
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