After purchasing a sail boat 2 years ago, I’ve been on a mission to improve my off-shore sailing capabilities. Doing so in tandem with one’s spouse is like taking a test with a crib sheet. You know someone will always listen to your woes and/or come to your rescue.

So, I set out to be a crew member on the svSpirit on her return trip from Bermuda to Long Island, NY following the Newport-Bermuda race. The captain, Kris, knew I had limited experience and wasn’t expecting much. My challenge was to set aside any feelings of insecurity and show these men my determination to make a positive contribution to the voyage. Later, I would learn how life aboard Spirit would test my limits while boosting my confidence exponentially. If there is a zeitgeist of sailing it lives aboard the svSpirit.

I arrived in Bermuda on Friday with an expected departure date of Sunday. This gave me a chance to get to know the crew, the vessel, swim, dance and party. These traditional bonding experiences paled in comparison to the unity forged on the open sea.

First day out the captain caught a fish – a mahi mahi. I was asked to cook this priceless meal. I’d never eaten a fish much less cooked one. In the back of my mind were all the “stupid Sue” tapes I’d accumulated over the years waiting to derail me. Quicker than you can say zip drive every program I ever viewed involving a frying pan flashed before my mind. What would Rachel Ray do? I had written one simple “lesson plan” for myself: no excuses, no complaints, stay positive. With just an alcohol stove and minimal spices I simmered the fish in the pan along with melted butter with lemon zest, onion, salt and pepper. It was pronounced “very good.” And know what? – I’m pretty good too! Before I could say “yeah me”, I felt my temperature rising and my knees getting shaky. Quickly, I embraced the life line while tossing my fish back into the sea. The creatures of the deep did not look kindly upon this fact. One thing’s for sure, the sea doesn’t give you much time to wax poetic before bringing you back down to reality. There is absolutely no graceful way to lose your lunch. Sadly, no more fish were caught on this voyage. Even the occasional flying fish who visited the boat avoided me. They only appeared when I was not on watch.

Just before sunset that first day, the winds began to build and we reefed the sail. When the captain said, point her into the wind – the boat responded effortlessly to my touch and the skipper realized perhaps he had a crew member with more skills than anticipated. The stars seemed to say “welcome back” on night watch. This was to be only my second sail upon the ocean. This voyage would also teach me new respect for the ocean’s power.

The rest of the voyage would be marked by storms – at least five in total. The second storm was the worst. The engine was not running due to a battery issue (which due to the ingenuity of the skipper proved to be a temporary problem). When summoned at 2:00 a.m. for duty I thought I was just coming on night watch when I popped my head outside. The skipper barked out an order to put on my safety gear. On deck the wind was blowing hard – at least 35 – 40 mph. My job was to hold the boat into the wind while Kris and Eric reefed the main. It took every last bit of energy I had in me but, come hell or high water (and I think I was experiencing both) failure was not an option. It seemed like it took a long time but I’m sure it was mere minutes before we were underway again. My adrenaline was pumping at this point and I was anxious to stay on deck and assist. My pride was hurt when asked to go below. Then, the reality of the situation hit me. A third man on deck was not needed. And, the skipper and first mate, Eric, would tire and need relief. They went into protection mode and stayed on deck to 6:00 am. When they finally allowed me to relieve them I returned the favor – I let them sleep until past noon.

When Kris and Eric woke up rested it hit them who had been steering for several hours. The rain had stopped but the winds had not diminished. Yet, wonder of wonders, we were on course. This simple fact brought new respect for me. The skipper was wise and experienced but he still needed a crew. Adversity had expanded everyone’s trust in each other. Then, we realized how hungry everyone was. Eric made cup of noodles – they never tasted better!
It had been a difficult start to the day. My arms were tired but my spirit felt invincible. I had experienced my first ocean storm, met my fears, and conquered them.

Throughout the remaining days the crew gathered in the cockpit during the mid-day hours. I don’t know why but I find watching the waves mesmerizing. The vast horizon seems to open the mind. Kris and Eric came to America from Poland. Kris’s work with Solidarity caused his exile from Poland. He was keenly aware of America as the seat of democracy. When they learned I taught History and Government the discussions turned to comparative politics. I had visited Poland in 1974. But, truth-be-told we were all there to have fun and sail. What I enjoyed most were his stories of his adventures building boats and racing sailing dinghies back in the day in Poland.

Other discussions were of a more personal nature. The open horizon seems to allow people to bare their soul. Trust took on a more personal meaning as crew members shared their stories. Life is not always kind. But, alone on a 38 foot sailboat sharing distant problems allowed our little crew to identify themselves, drop our worries and just be. Here we were three people in a boat as unique and different as could be. One single, one twice divorced, and one married 32 years. I think that just about covers the full range of traditional relationships.

Later in the voyage, an unknown short in the electrical system had drained our battery. We were without an engine or power in the Gulf Stream. The problem was correctable but for the moment, with light winds, we were doing negative V.M.G. at one point. Unseen problems can either draw the crew together or splinter the group into opinionated nay-sayers. svSpirit worked her charms. Our crew focused on solving the problem. The skipper, Kris, used a flexcell solar panel attached directly to the starting battery to restore the necessary voltage to start the engine. The solution took about 3 ½ days with storms. Which meant we had plenty of time to appreciate the warm waves of the Gulf Stream splashing over the boat. Then, just after a brief storm we were becalmed. During a hot, slow moment about 100 dolphins appeared out of nowhere. They hung around for quite a while – a squad of Neptune’s cheerleaders come to encourage us along the way. Awesome!

On the 5th day we were motoring through calm seas and fishing – no fish (they don’t forget do they?) Everyone was happy to be close to our destination and enjoying calm waters. Then Kris spotted a family of whales. I didn’t see the baby jump but I did see the fluke of the parent whale just off the bow. They are such massive, graceful creatures which you just don’t get to see on the Chesapeake Bay. Ocean sailing has its rewards!

Approaching NY while engulfed in yet another storm, Eric, saw a white flare while at the helm. Skipper, Kris, called the Coast Guard. This sighting was confirmed over the radio by svSwift. Later, Eric saw the lights of a helicopter sent to investigate the scene. It was a solemn moment. Despite mishaps, we survived the storms and were less than 100 miles from port. Someone else was not as lucky.

The last leg of the trip past Fire Island light into Long Island sound was slow. The winds had died. The diesel supply had been expended so it was to be a slow sail into port. But, it was a wondrous conclusion to our adventure together. I had never seen Long Island from the water and was thoroughly transfixed by the slowing emerging panorama of sights on shore. We anchored briefly to allow the winds to build and enjoyed our last meal aboard svSprit – our restaurant by the sea.

After a full day of sailing we approached the fuel dock we had been directed to by Kris’s friend, Bill. Cell phones – got to love them! The fuel dock, the Bayshore Marina, was inside a cut shared by high speed ferries. We were doing about 1 knot. I saw a puff ahead about 500 feet and asked the captain permission to put the boat on wing and wing. It was time for this Chesapeake Bay sailor to show this captain what many summer hours in light winds had taught me. With the puff we got up to 2.4 knots – enough to slip through the cut before the next ferry made its’ appearance. The skipper took the helm and we docked for fuel – my first land in almost 7 days. The wonders of a flush toilet are not to be underestimated!

Back at port, the crew was invited to a beach party on Jones Beach with a local band. After 7 days at sea dancing was the way to celebrate! Later the crew was invited to an after party for the band at a magnificent home on Long Island. The music was grand and the company spontaneous and talented. Our hosts were a beautiful couple who seemed to have stepped out of the pages of Vogue magazine. They could not have been more gracious.

While at the beach I could see the harbor light we’d passed many hours before aboard svSpirit. At the party, there were boats docked in the canal adjacent to the home of our hosts. Despite a hot shower, cooked food, clean clothes and elegant surroundings, a little piece of me wasn’t ready to leave the adventure of sailing behind.

Would I crew alone again? Yes! It made me rely and build on my own skills. It allowed me to gain the trust of new, more experienced sailors and learn from them. What‘s really cool is how total strangers who love sailing can bond quickly and get the job done while having fun. Eric told me later that the skipper, Kris, wasn’t expecting much and was surprised. I did not know what to expect and was amazed.

What new adventure awaits me? Where will it be?