Nature, Love, and Safety

When I was a child, I had the fortune to go to sleep-away girl scout camp on a scholarship, and that’s where I felt love and safety for the first time in my little life. It was in the middle of a coastal forest on the West Coast, and we slept in tents or open-structured buildings with all of Mother Earth’s creatures for company. There were always trees around us, holding us in their calming presence. So many strong, loving women, taught us to sing together in one voice. The song I remember best is always in my head when I walk in the forest, and I heard it there today:

“Green trees around us,
blue skies, above.
Friends all around us,
in a world filled with love.”

Mr. Rogers said — and I believe — that love is a verb, an active word, like struggle. I see much struggle, but also much love, in our world right now, and I am glad for it. I would rather have and build that kind of love.

I found a safe, quiet, peaceful place to nurture my soul today. I hope you found space for that, too. xx

p.s. The mountain had a message at the top for us! Scroll to the last photo, and take heart.

Cast Off the Docklines and Believe

After so many weeks staying put in one place and working hard, it feels so good and so right that Windfola is moving again. Tomorrow we are planning a big shakedown sail, and if all goes smoothly, we’ll depart the next day to cruise down the east coast of the North Island of New Zealand.

Sitting here by the light of Windfola’s oil lamp, rocking gently on our mooring, I’ve been remembering the beauty of long days at sea with incredible sunsets like this one. It was memories like this, coupled with a poem by Pat Schneider, that kept me going through the last few weeks of labor. To those of you who, like me, are working with a focused discipline... don’t forget the equal importance of just casting off the docklines and believing.

YOUR BOAT, YOUR WORDS

Your boat, they will tell you,
cannot leave the harbor
without discipline.

But they will neglect to mention
that discipline has a vanishing point,
an invisible horizon where belief takes over.

They will not whisper to you the secret
that they themselves have not fully understood: that
belief is the only wind with breath enough
to take you past the deadly calms, the stopped motion
toward that place you have imagined,
the existence of which you cannot prove
except by going there.

- Pat Schneider

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Day 6 of 25, singlehanding from CA to The Marquesas, French Polynesia

Interview (!!!) with Out The Gate Sailing Podcast!

Ummm, so... the Out The Gate Sailing podcast just dropped a new episode, and it’s Part One of a two-part interview with YOURS TRULY!! It’s not only my favorite sailing podcast, but it’s made back home in the Bay Area by Ben Shaw, who is a wonderful interviewer and huge supporter of women sailors. I’m so honored by the opportunity... and I feel like 2020 just keeps on giving us rainbows!! (By the way, have you ever seen a rainbow at sunset?? I hadn’t before this one!)

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Take a listen to hear a bit about my sailing origins, why I’m so passionate about shining a light for the foster care community, and how you can become a supporter for these kids, in ways large or small.

Check it out, and support Out The Gate Sailing by subscribing on your favorite podcast platform. Thank you so much!!

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photo taken as I arrived at sunset to Palmerston Island, on 5 Nov. 2019.

to the sea again

Sea people are special. We have a shared understanding, without words, of hearing the siren’s call of the ocean, and the longing it roots in one’s heart. Nothing will ease it but going.

A friend shared this with me yesterday. It’s as though this guy a hundred years ago was writing the words my heart has been speaking.

Sea Fever, by John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; 

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

thank you, Donald 🙏💕

Daring

Yesterday I stumbled across a perfectly appropriate Rumi quote.

"Run from what's comfortable.
Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious."