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On Loneliness and Solitude (part 2)
Today on the boat, my loneliness is sublime. The weather is warm, the beach is empty and a flurry of watercrafts buzz around me as the party preparations are underway. When I set off yesterday, it was more in defiance than ambition, as my heart is broken and open. I let my guard down and was taken in by a siren song and this weekend is for adventuring and little bit of licking my wounds. I’ve found that love, and her mistress grief, propel me into the universe and off the dock most often. As a student of love I somehow became a student of grief and loneliness. The boat is…
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What could go wrong?
Things fail, crack, break, and rot on even great boats but jeez is it hard to avoid a grandiose attitude about your own boat. When I started reading sea stories and watching sailing videos, I had this voice in my mind that went something like, “Oh yeah, but that probably won’t happen to me” or “Yeah, but that could probably have been prevented” or “I’ll have this better boat where things like that won’t happen” and then, “well, once I get everything fixed then things like this won’t happen anymore.” Exceptionalism is as American as apple pie but it really didn’t serve me well to hang on to the idea…
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Why a Dana 24?
I wanted something small enough that I could singlehand but comfortable enough that I could anchor out on the weekends and judge if you will, a bathroom was and still is, important to me. This put me squarely in pocket-cruiser territory and I was rooting for a Norsea 27. I looked at several in varying degrees of decline before I came across the Dana. A friend, sailing instructor, and fellow Dana owner went through her with a fine toothed comb and declared that while I didn’t have to get her, I wasn’t going to find anything in better condition. The engine died on three separate sea trials. I had never…
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How a girl gets a boat
Like many east coast kids, I was shipped off to camp for a few weeks every summer. I tried all the things – archery, swimming, arts and crafts, soccer, etc. but when that little bathtub was pushed off the dock and I found myself completely self contained and out of any harasser’s reach, my mind was blown. It was like tasting a new flavor. I was on my own. My god, my own space. I don’t have a lot of memories from that time, but it made enough of an impression that I signed up for a sailing clinic that fall. I was the only girl and so housed separately…
