Black River

In our usual way as 50-somethings-I-don’t-sleep-like-I-used-tos, Irena and I woke at dawn yesterday and had coffee in the cockpit. As we waited for the java to work its magic, we talked over our greater plans. By 7am we were quite awake. “Heck, why now just pull the anchor, and set sail this instant!” Moments later, Eitan was roused in the v-berth by the sound of anchor chain in the hawser, just feet from his head. When the anchor cleared the bottom,

Irena swung the bow off the 20 knot breeze blowing through the anchorage. We raced downwind and out to sea between the two reefs defining the Baie’s outer reaches.

Safe in deep water, we sailed south under genoa alone. To port and to windward the trades swept down the island mountains, filled with the fragrance of forest and sugar cane. It made us hungry for porridge and brown sugar. In the sky, the morning’s brilliant young sun shone traded places with mountain top rain showers, pouring their last drops on us when they could reach us just a ¼ mile from shore. On the land, browns traded places with greens, mountains with coastal plains. On the water, the trade winds fanned, pumping 25 to 35 knots.

As we sped past the coastal hamlets of Flic ‘n Flac, Tamerin and Black River, I watched the shore side houses, thinking, “How odd, here we are at sea looking back at you, as you are on land looking out at us” At sea, on Conversations, we marveled at the landscape to port. On land, in their homes, people I imaged people looked out to sea, marvelling at its beauty and immensity. It is as if we each strain at our own edge, it is as if we both long for something that is not ours, for what is just beyond our reach. It seemed to me in the moment to echo the human condition.

By noon we had sailed 25 NM down the western lee coast of Mauritius, from Grand Baie in the north to Riviera Noir Baie in the south and re-anchored. We had entered the harbour in another rain shower and set the hook in 3 meters of water. All is well.

Reflection

The perspective we enjoy when standing on land looking out to sea, (or viewing the land from sea) reminds me of the perspective time gives us on our lives. With time, we see from a distance, what we could not see up close. Things in our lives make sense from this distance, when all was confusion at the time. But this is all in the context of looking backwards. What if we look forward into our lives when we stand on the shore looking to sea: What can we see then about our future?

Roz Savage, of whom I wrote in my last blog, spoke of a seminal experience in her life, an experience responsible in fact for her departure from her former life as financial consultant, to her life as an ocean rower. (www.rozsavage.com) Roz told us of how she sat down one day and wrote two obituaries. One obituary reflected her life as she wanted it to be; the other obituary reflected her life as she was then living it. The two diverged significantly. It took some time to realize, but she credits this exercise with being the inspiration for her choice to create her new life. Incidentally, now after having rowed across three oceans – The Atlantic, the Pacific and the Indian Ocean – she says she is finished with rowing. What is next for her she does not know, but, I would bet whatever it is, she won’t have to re-write her life dream obituary – only the details of the ‘how’ will change.

Roz’s dream life obituary was her standing on land looking out to sea. She was standing in ‘grand perspective’, viewing her life in the future, from afar, asking and answering: What do I want my life to achieve? It is significant that she was looking ahead in her life, and not behind. We may become overly concerned with understanding our past, with forgiving ourselves for it (guilt) and with allowing ‘what we did limit what we can do’. This is reinforced by our cultural common sense. Uncommon sense says, on the other hand, it doesn’t matter what has been, the future is ours to choose.

There is another piece of Roz’s story that relates to Sail7Cs. Roz says, once she decided to live a life in accord with her revised obituary, “rowing found her”. She had no previous knowledge or interest in ocean rowing. Roz’s is a good example of living the Sail7Cs’ ideas of “COURSE”. She decided at a deep level what she wanted her life to achieve, (wrote her outcome - obituary/vision) even before she knew how it would be achieved and then let life deliver the way forward (rowing “found me”). And as for what is now next, she has no idea what, but she has confidence it will make itself known to her in due COURSE (if you will pardon the pun!)

There is another great question begged by Roz’s story: How is it possible to make that deep “decision” to go for it, even before we know how to achieve it? It’s not enough to create the vision, at some deep level we must also decide to commit to it then step back and let life present the opportunity. How do we do this super human thing?