Swimming in Open Sea D11 19/05/21

I knew the conditions were bad but I didn’t expect the first day to be so eventful. I did the one thing you must absolutely never do when sailing in open sea, jump off the boat, but we’ll get to that.

I’ve never had sea sickness and Thomas says it’s only a problem if you think about it (the messages I received reminding me didn’t help forget, you know who you are). Throughout the first several hours I went from feeling swayed by the waves, to suddenly stirred. A small foreign feeling started creeping up my throat, threatening to breakout. I felt better when journaling and laying on my bed, but it’s not until our first dinner that it fully disappeared. I’d go on to say, as the waves were at their worst during the night, I felt exhilarated by the feeling of comfort I felt in my bed.

At 5:45 am I replaced Thomas in surveying the deck while the others got some sleep. In French we call it a “Quart”, each spends 3 hours alone on the deck. I went back to sleep at 10 am, when I woke up around noon I was told something got caught in our engin’s propulsion and we’d have to investigate. There was a calm intensity, as there often is at sea, it was my moment to prove my worth to the captain and crew. The sky had cleared and sea calmed a bit, so I volunteered to jump in the water to look for the problem. Within seconds I could see a huge plastic bag wrapped around the propulsion. After a short session of HIIT to warm myself up I jumped in the water. It seems brave but I was bitching in the water due to the cold; I calmed my breathing and got to cutting. Thankfully we weren’t too delayed, given we’re on the clock to get to the Cap Finister before Thursday noon.

There’s something about the feeling of being at the mercy of nature that feels real. The great blue is so big and mysterious I’ve always had a respect that edged on fear. But as Kela Futi’s song says “Water Has No Enemy”. Our first two nights are drastically different, the first had heavy winds whistling melodies as they passed, with the sight of heavy rain’s impact on water. Tonight is calm, almost silent, as we slowly follow a path the moon seems to have carved for us, the waves can be huge but gentle. There are so many stars I can barely recognize the constellations I memorized on land.

As I write this at 3 am, there are dolphins playing around us in the dark, a cargo ship I can’t see who’ll cross our path, and i’m freaking out about a string of 20 or so stars moving in a straight line, disappearing one by one as they fly over us. And I have no Google to find a rational explanation other than UFOs, did I mention I’m the only witness.

Much Love,

DT