“Oh yeah! If I were single I wouldn’t be here. When my daughter’s in college I’m on a sailboat all over.”
Do you remember the song by Christopher Cross, Sailing? When I was in middle school it was my theme song. At the time I’m not sure I even really paid much attention to the words. But the idea of escape must have registered in my pubescent brain like an anchor in a storm.
Since then the thought of sailing anywhere has been sadly replaced by the reality that I get easily seasick. It didn’t used to be that way. Pre having a child I could go through the murkiest water and keep my sailors feet. During one momentous trip across the Channel in England it seemed like the entire boat, other than my husband and me, were throwing up all over the place. Somehow, though, we made the two+ hour (usually it would only be about 1 1/2 hours) crossing without losing our lunch as well.
Fast forward six years and it would be me in misery as I suffered through a multi-hour whale watching tour/party in Mexico. I was near hysteria at the point where the crowd with us began dancing the Macarena and encouraging the
boat to stay out a little longer. I was told by the captain that if I swam for a moment I would feel better. Probably he was simply sick of my whining. Unfortunately, he didn’t warn me of the jellyfish. I was back in the boat within
minutes, jellyfish stings across my back.
Since that memorable trip I have been understandably hesitant to get back on a boat. I am wary of even short social trips by speedboat on our local lake. Still… the idea of a sailboat, skimming across the water, sails stiff in the wind, holds a unique place in my imagination. Through the power of dreams I do not feel the nausea, but only that glorious sense of escape.
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