Sailboats are leaving. Sailboats are coming back from under the stones. Sailors showing off like ants after winter… coming out from the wooden shells. The pier vibrates with a electric tension… they are getting ready.
The air says something is going to happen,
hold your breath
before jump again into the water
close open you eyes
the instant just before…
Raising sails, is time to spread four-leave clovers, smell the wind, inspect the clouds, ask to the fish… wait for the sign of the bird. Palm trees are vanishing under the waves.
It’s time to go. Are you coming?
Como aboard, release the bow line, put your suit, and cover yourself with salt.
I just decline an invitation to go to Fiji as crew on a sailboat (an Altimar, Catamaran). Sailors are showing up from under the less expected places in New Zealand. I’ve running into them all the week along in very random ways: they are calling, emailing after months without notice… and even in the supermarket of this little town I am living now.
A surprising e-mail from someone that knows someone that knows me (not surprising on the sailing scene though): “We are anchored in a side of Miss Goodnight and we need crew to wo Fiji”. – I said No.
I go to the supermarket : The Hungarian couple recognize me, they anchored their boat further north … what a surprise! getting ready for Vanuatu..
Tom is going to New Caledonia, my friend Zuleika on her pretty boat says Vanuatu. Ian says I go till Japan… Miss Goodnigth goes to Tonga, Queen Margarit to Fiji… an others already left to Alaska.
I will wave them from the dock and trough them flowers. I will write about boats, and keep their adventures from here. Maybe I catch up with them later, may not. And actually I am happy for that. To not know exactly when I will be back aboard, and also know that sailboats will be always there.
Because I don’t want to frozen in any stage of my life. To locked up in any concept of myself, I can’t say “I’m only this, and put a definition.
I am not a traveler: I just have traveled.
I am not only a nurse: I studied nursing as a profession.
I am not only a sailor: I just have sailed.
There is openness to say this has been part of my life but I don’t identify with any of the characters (Yet the “seeker” is the most subtle). I enjoy them all, I can embrace them or just walk away from them.
I’ll release your line bowls my friends, this time from the dock. For me is not season just yet. Life as giving me a house on the mountains where I’ll see pass the winter between fog and river. I’ll fish and count sheep for sleep in the cold while everybody is running away to the warm islands. This is what is expressed in this moment and I also embrace it with joy… I’ll figure out later how to warm up my feet.
…One ship drives east and another west
with the self same winds that blow.
‘Tis the set of the sails and not the gales
which decides the way to go.
Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate
as we wander along through life
‘Tis the set of the soul that decides the goal
and not the calm or strife.
…*Ella Wheeler Wilcox