The feelings so far…
The sailing has begun. We have been preparing for almost a year, and here we are. For the last three weeks we have been assisting the captain in reacquainting himself with his boat. It has been in Panama, “on the-hard,” or dry-docked, for the last 8 months, so there was a lot of cleaning and servicing to be done. And after all the grunt work, the Lord permitted a weather window to stretch the sails a bit and begin to find our sea legs again. I am writing this on the back of the boat in the San Blas Islands, an archipelago composed of nearly 350 islands off Panama’s Caribbean Coast (and finishing it in a nice marina at the entrance of the Panama Canal).
In these first few weeks, there have already been some emotional tests. Most of which I believe stem from two things. One is that we are on someone else’s boat. Two, this is ALL very new to us; sure Dusty’s acted as a mate on smaller sloops day sailing in the Keys with the scouts, but this boat, it’s design and versatility is entirely different; therefore, a steep learning curve is daily met with a lack of confidence. We are out of our element (me entirely so). There is an amount of learning involved, to an extent which I have never beforehand experienced. And I have been in some crazy new places and learning scenarios. Normally, there are at least a few solid familiar things which can act as a foundation when someone is in a new learning environment– maybe that is returning home each night, maybe a similar classroom, food, habits, people, etc.? We have none of these. It is all new, unfamiliar and under someone else’s terms. We knew there would be some of these challenges coming in after video messaging with our captain in the months leading up to now being here, but reality and what you have imagined would be your reality are two different things.
Our captain, like most I am sure, has developed a very specific way for doing everything on board (and in life, more generally). This is not a bad thing, in fact he knows his stuff; he is a very competent captain. But, almost always, there are multiple ways to arrive to the same solution. And something I have found over the years is that most people are not good at guiding or watching others go through their own learning process. This is amplified by the fact that our learning process is happening on someone else’s precious and very expensive boat, where there is limited room for error. Compounded, each of these elements can lead to stress points.
Overall, we have been able to praise the Lord at the end of the day that our captain is a relatively open communicator and let’s things roll off pretty easily. He has expressed a desire that all things be put on the table as issues arise so that things don’t fester. We appreciate this very much. However, learning a brand new person’s communication style and when to approach things is still very difficult. We are on a nice, sizable boat where everybody is granted the luxury of a spacious cabin. But it becomes small when brand new personalities are all coming together to live and work for half a year. We are learning how to navigate, in every possible way, right now.
The intention of this post is not to be a Debby Downer by any means, but to express the true feelings as they come. To express and process through everything is going to be an entirely different process than normal as well. Emotionally, things are on edge. There are ups and downs. No matter how far we travel and how beautiful the islands and waters are, finances and our future’s uncertainties still make us loose a little sleep at night and are the base of some long conversations. Surely a lot of people will see this as a vacation, and when one hears of the places we are going, it is hard to argue otherwise. But we see this as something more, something priceless in a different way. Because the thing is, if we knew in hindsight that after this grand voyage… the “vacation” aspect trumped the learning, the knowledge, the confident and competence aspects of becoming captains… we would’ve pursued a different route to meet this goal. I guess what I’m trying to say is, this is the biggest step we’ve ever taken as a united front—leap really—and it’s one we took hoping it will set us up for our future: to work on and drive boats for a living.
Some of our questions right now: Will we learn everything we hoped to when first talking through our expectations before coming into this trip? Will our Captain, under his supervision, let us “take control” in order to learn once we are more comfortable on the boat? Will some of the personality stress points become something we shake off, learn to expect and deal with, or in fact take a stand gracefully “bring them to the table?” Will we run out of money with more and more unexpected expenses popping up? What comes after this for work/living? Will our only foundational points being our familiarity with each other, and knowing God is good in every situation be enough to carry us through this huge learning opportunity?
In all of this it is so easy to doubt. It is so easy to become discouraged. It is too easy to only see our resources and forget that the Lord is our anchor and safe harbor. He is fighting for us. He has our best interests in mind and will surprise us like He always has in providing through unique pathways. We are just already very prepared to see it. From the outside this can all look like really unwarranted complaining. “Oh, there go Erin and Dusty living it up in the sun on a nice boat seeing beautiful things every day…” But as always, it is hard to have a full perspective of someone else’s challenges from the outside. We recognize how blessed we are to be here. But we are now learning what the challenges are going to be for the next half year. Now…
The places so far…
It took 8.5 hours to sail from Linton Bay Marina to our first anchorage within the Eastern Lemmon Cays of the San Blas Islands, having to motor-sail the whole way as the wind and waves were too much to strictly sail. Between the motor on the large genoa sail up, we made progress at 8 knots. Some waves approached 12 feet, but all rollers, so no issue. Rocky seas to say the least.
We nestled into a protected anchorage in between Banedup and Nuinudup, the latter of which we were able to dinghy over to and explore! What beauty. For our Sea Base friends out there, we found some sea beans!! Two sailor’s hearts, one mermaid’s purse and a skinny hamburger bean. So cool! Once we beached, Dusty’s nose immediately took to the sand like a dog to a trail and we walked the whole rim of the palm-abundant island. Once a beaner, always a beaner… (We came away with 34 beans in total over the course of all the islands we scoured 😉
Simple huts constructed by the local Guna people are scattered across the islands as you sail by. They have beautiful carved palm tree trunks as canoes. When we first motored in, even before we set anchor, two local Guna men paddled up and were selling crab. Unfortunately, our Captain is allergic to seafood so we had to decline, go figure…
Over eight days we stayed in four different anchorages. Each grouping of islands was different and held different beauties. It has been great to learn the basics of this boat. After the San Blas we feel confident with setting and retrieving the anchor. We are more familiar with the 13 different lines and clutches at the helm station, their purposes and when to do what with them—for the most part. We grasp the difference between true and apparent wind. We are learning our Captain’s quirks. Cooking with the kitchen rocking and rolling underneath you IS possible—again, for the most part. Little bit by little bit things are coming along.
After leaving the San Blas we stayed one more night back in Linton Bay Marina, then took off to the north the next morning to arrive in Shelter Bay Marina by early afternoon. Here we will finalize everything before we cross the Panama Canal. When we arrived we wanted to fuel up. We were in line behind a large, private motor yacht, which was busy filling up with 7,000 gallons… Yes, that’s three zeros. The guys filling it said it cost the owner $20,000, but what’s money when you’re driving a three deck yacht over 100’ long? Shelter Bay Marina is a rich marina, especially compared to Linton Bay. We feel a lot out of place so far. We are sure that will continue as it takes pretty bank accounts to join the ARC as the captain of a vessel. Good practice for not being jealous of what other people have.
The next really big challenge: buying the provisions for the next 7 months in a store I have never been to which is 30 minutes away from the marina. Will they have the ingredients in the shopping list which it took us three months to perfect? Will we be able to get it all back to the marina without paying an arm and a leg? If they don’t have a few key ingredients, will I be able to adjust the whole menu on the fly? Will the other crew conquer with the meal plan I pulled a few hairs out solidifying? I. am. Intimidated. It is Saturday, we begin buying food Monday or Tuesday. Anyways…
This is the gist of it thus far. Lots of you have already come to mind throughout this adventure, whether it’d be from a bottle of wine the Captain solely brought with him from Spain, finding beans on the beach, seeing young spotted eagle rays feeding at night behind the boat or coming across a unique personalities like Buddy, a FL Keys fishing Captain, that reminds us of friends or family back home.
The Adventure Continues... 