The Zen of Traveling Thousands of Miles at 7 mph
Traveling via sailboat is
slow. When the wind, waves, current and
weather are in our favor our speed is about 6-9 knots (that’s approximately
7-10 miles per hour). If any one of the
above-mentioned factors are not ideal, i.e. too much wind, too little wind,
wind in the wrong direction, current against us, sea swells on our beam,
breaking waves, etc. then the speed reduces to as slow as 3-4 knots. Overall, our average speed is about 6
knots. And that is mostly with the
engine running and a few sails. Without
the engine, there are times when the boat would be moving backwards. Factoring in weather predictions and our
travel goals, those of us who love to sail are often making decisions about
when and if we can raise the sails and cut the engine, how that will affect our
ETA, and whether or not we care about our ETA.
One day a few weeks ago as we
departed Pelican, AK, we were faced with one of those decision points. The wind was almost behind us, and if we
headed just a wee bit off course, we had a lovely broad reach and made about
5-6 knots over water, under sail with no engine. But, with the current against us in Liapinski
Straight, we were only making about 2-3 knots over land. We looked at each other, at the full sails and
semi-open sky, and grinned, deciding to push back our arrival at the anchorage
an hour or so in order to enjoy the quiet peace of sailing this leg of our
journey. The slow easy lapping of water
on the hull, the beauty of Alaskan waters and mountains and sealife, make it an
easy decision. Carmen got the sailing
bug during this leg as she became our winch handler. She loved cranking on the winch handle to
pull in our jib. We have been waiting to
see if she would ever find the sailing passion that the rest of us have, and
got a glimpse of it that day. She said,
“I don’t like pulling in the sails with the winches, I LOVE IT!!!”
About three days before that,
however, as we made our three-day crossing of the Gulf of Alaska at this pace, the
world was not so rosy and my attitude not so accepting of this slow and easy
pace.
It was 2:00am and I was on the night
shift. We had spent the day and night
before getting tossed about in uncomfortable 8+ foot swells on our starboard
beam, with not enough wind to level us out or so much wind we heeled over like
mad, and all kinds of crazy currents slowing us down. I was sleep deprived and angry and totally
stuck in my head. I couldn’t stop
thinking about how intolerable it would be if I had to drive 4 miles per hour
to the grocery store five miles away, and here I was going hundreds of miles
offshore, for three days, at that pace!
As I reached the end of my rope of sanity, I ran belowdecks and shook
Bruce awake. Crying, I declared that the
ETA box on our navigation screen had changed from 4:00pm tomorrow to 3:00am the
morning of the next day! “We will never
be off this ocean, Bruce!!!” I shouted
as I pounded my fists into his chest.
Always the voice of reason, Bruce
suggested that I stop looking at that ETA box, he said that the weather and
wind and currents would change and it would all even out. “Be patient, Jen, it will get better.” I was reminded of our personal motto, “The
only thing constant is change.”
Well, I was in no mood to wane
philosophic, so I stomped around the cabin a bit before crawling into a sleeping bag in the main settee and trying
hopelessly to sleep. Nauseous and full
of despair, I curled up beside Carmen and tried to breathe.
A few hours later when I awoke from
a dead sleep, I could feel and hear the boat making progress. Indeed, things had changed. The wind had shifted enough to help us and we
clipped along at a nice 5-7 knots. Back
on track. Sigh . . . Once again, Bruce was right. The ETA box said 4:30pm again.
As seen only from the open sea, sunset...... |
Cockpit time during the crossing |
Richard sleeping during the crossing |
When we aren’t doing a long
overnight crossing in treacherous waters, I really don’t mind the pace. In fact, I don’t even notice the
slowness. The hours go by with the gentle
lapping of water along the hull, we make and eat delicious food, watch
wildlife, take naps, plot our course for the evening or next day, read aloud,
laugh and snuggle.
Typically, we see whales or
porpoises, countless types of sea birds, otters, waterfalls, mountains and
glaciers. I am constantly amazed the
light. Clouds lit from below, from
above, from the side; fog whisping between mountain peaks; warm horizontal
sunlight making everything glow; light reflecting on tiny ripples in the water;
rainbows; alpenglow; sunsets. I take
hundreds of photos.
Somehow, the hours and the day
mostly pass by effortlessly. The boxes I
lugged along of “things to do” - knitting, beading, drawing, painting, games,
etc. sit untouched. So far we haven’t
needed them. Six weeks into our journey
and they haven’t even been opened.
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Full moon rising...early in the night before my little panic attack! |
I do not wish to travel
faster. I love our pace and honestly
wonder if 60mph in a car might feel like some sort of scary carnival ride the
next time I find myself on a highway.
For now, I’ll take the slow way of the tortoise, the way of the S/V
Northern Passage. It is good for
us. Bruce’s worry wrinkles have disappeared,
we have each lost weight and have a ruddy, fresh-air look about us. The kids are happy and reading like fiends,
excited at every sighting of a whale or porpoise no matter how many times they
have already seen them. I get it, I get
what the author of that children’s fable was saying. I am reminded of Simon and Garfunkle, “Slow
down, you move too fast, you got to make the morning last just kicking down the
cobble stones, looking for fun and feeling groovey. La la la la la la la feelin’ groovey.”
I love that song - Feeling Groovy! So true. As semi-retired people, Nate and I often find ourselves rushing and wondering,why? (mostly me - Natie seems to not have a problem with "slow.") Probably because of habit - patterns set years ago during those hectic (but wonderfully fulfilling) work years teaching, coaching, counseling, parenting etc.
ReplyDeleteI love reading about your adventure and am so happy both children are "feeling groovy" too. See you soon.
Mom/grandma