Showing posts with label Gratitude Dance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gratitude Dance. Show all posts

Saturday, March 12, 2011

ODE TO FRIENDSHIP

Emerald Bay, Exumas 23º46.7N | 76º5.11W


Sea Gal at anchor.*
One of the great treasures of cruising is the friendships formed along the way. I've pondered why on water it appears so much easier to form lasting relationships, and I have a few theories, well, four actually.
  1. Strong Characters. Cruising couples have rock solid alliances between two strong, engaged, wise and, almost without fail, witty characters. The reality of living together in a tiny space and undergoing the discomforts, travails and elations of sailing are insupportable without the ability to weather anything thrown at you while sustaining rather than turning on each other, and the utter necessity of finding the humor in all of it. Weak, humorless relationships will eventually, inevitably break.
  2. Open Hearts. Cruising can be a lonely proposition. By design we have to leave behind family and friends, and no longer ensconced in our posse, like college freshmen, we are far from home and more open to embracing new friends.
  3. Time to Spare. When you move at a top speed of 6 mph, life passes at a beautiful protracted pace that to me seems more grounded in reality than the "real world" frenzy fabricated by flocking humans. Out here we have time to value each other, to listen, to laugh, to tell jokes, to lend a hand.
  4. Kindred Spirits. Cruisers are a tiny fraction of the human race. We have abandoned careers, cars, houses, bucked every system we can think of, hitched our wagons to bucking waves, and shaken up the very bones of life. Every day we face new challenges, push our own limits and, frankly, put our lives in our own, and our partner's, hands. It makes sense that the pool of commonality already runs deep. So does the likelihood of meeting strong characters.
That's why we rented a car today, on the strength of a two-day relationship with new friends.

Four months ago at Cruisers Thanksgiving in St. Mary's, Georgia, we fell under the spell of a British couple aboard Sea Gal. Barney and Di are just plain inspirational. They have set out a circumnavigation plan that is as quirky and imaginative as they are, a plan that might be considered fanciful if they weren't pulling it off. Not blessed with a pension, a trust fund or a huge bank account, they work for as long as it takes to build up a decent cruising kitty and then cruise on a thin penny, getting every possible ounce of distance from their stockpile. In fact, Barney and Di are the only people I ever saw actually sailing, not motorsailing, down the ICW to save on fuel.

The circumnavigation plan is to sell Sea Gal after sailing the Caribbean and then purchase another boat in the Pacific Northwest to continue their unorthodox, intermittent slog around the globe.

As Cara Mia and Jessie Marie have headed slowly south together, we have kept in touch with the even slower Sea Gal, trying to triangulate with them to the same spot at the same time, not an easy proposition.

When we arrived here at Emerald Bay Marina, we had email from Diana announcing that Sea Gal was anchored only five miles south of us waiting for the next weather window to head north again, a window looming in the next 48 hours.

We debated amongst ourselves, Karen and Dale on Jessie Marie, and us, not about whether we would see Barney and Di, but how. Five miles is such a pittance on land, but by sea, out one dangerous cut and into another one, it was not merely a jump-and-go proposition. Our solution? Rent a car.

It takes two: one to drive, one to remind the driver to stay on the left side of the road!
Communication between moving vessels is not simple when you're out of VHF range. Even our cell phones were from three different countries and apparently speaking three different languages. Instead we relied on the most modern of methods: Facebook.

Fail.

We communicated back and forth fine until the most important missive: our concrete plan to drive to see them. Barney and Di were unable to get a web connection from their anchorage, so they were unaware that we were on our way.

No worries. They told us earlier where they were anchored.

Well, one worry. They were anchored. We were arriving by car. No dinghy. No radio.

After a few missteps, we spotted their boat too far offshore to call out to -- maybe. We stood on shore yelling, whistling, catcalling, waving, jumping, all four of us.

Yoo hoo! Sea Gal!!! I'm pretty sure that catamaran had us pegged as nutcases.
Finally, we saw movement onboard, Barney and Di throwing their dinghy in the water. They came bolting across the long stretch of water to the dock where we were dancing the gratitude dance.

Dancing the Gratitude Dance.

Gratitude indeed.

An open arms welcome.

*All photos in the entry were taken by Chip.

**My column about this day and cruiser friendships in Classic Yacht magazine in March 2013.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

THE GRATITUDE DANCE

Sampson Cay, Exumas 24º12.5N | 76º28.5W
Jessie Marie, a beautiful sight.
Jessie Marie, Jessie Marie, this is Cara Mia.

This lonely missive has been broadcast twice a day for the last two weeks, not unlike the message earthlings transmit into the ether, in case someone's out there listening. And just like that alien appeal, I've gotten silence in return.

Since leaving Miami on January 18, our only contact with Dale & Karen on Jessie Marie has been by email, a medium sketchy and elusive in the Bahamas. With both of our boats on the move and trading messages every three days or so, it has been a frustrating game of hide and seek -- or maybe seek and seek. The VHF reaches, at its most generous, less than 20 miles. We have a Single Side Band on board but as yet have only figured out how to receive. Little does it matter in this case. Jessie Marie has an SSB that only receives.

In this modern world of constant instant communication, we have been unable to reach each other.

But two days ago, I had just talked to Casey on the VHF when I heard Karen's sweet voice on the radio.

I practically shouted into the microphone, "Jessie Marie, Jessie Marie, this is Cara Mia. Go to 6-8."

Thus followed a lot of happy screaming and catching up, with, I'm sure, the entire Big Majors anchorage listening, relieved and bemused that we finally found each other. (We heard later reports from these flies on our wall.)

Karen reported that the converse lonely announcement had been transmitting north of us as well: "Cara Mia, Cara Mia, this is Jessie Marie," again to utter silence.

Finally within radio range, Jessie and her crew were less than 20 miles north at Warderick Wells. We set a radio date every morning @ 8 until we can find each other again.

This morning, we moped around feeling alone without Casey and Remi aboard, facing a day of chores ahead to get Cara Mia back in order after two weeks of heavy action.

Cockpit laundromat.
At 8, Chip answered Jessie Marie's hail.

"We're at Sampson Cay. It's really nice here. Good burgers at the restaurant," Chip reported, never subtle in his enticements.

After a few minutes of chitchat, Karen said, "Well, we're headed your way."

"Where are you going?" Chip asked, expecting to hear Cambridge or Compass Cay.

"You're way. We're headed to Sampson."

And sure enough, just after noon, Jessie Marie came into view, a beautiful sight. If you look closely at that photo above, you'll see Karen doing the The Gratitude Dance, an answer to our dual happy dance on the elevated stern seats (sorry, no photos of this).

2011: Still the Year of Happy Surprises.


Sampson Cay, Exumas 24º12.5N | 76º28.5W

Cara Mia and Jessie Marie, together again.
Catching up on all the miles between Miami and Sampson Cay.