A little heartbreak........and a lot of excitement!

I have been absent from this blog, and even my precious boat for some time now. Life events and responsibilities have been pulling me away. There is not a moment that goes by, however, that I don’t miss the open sea or the blessing of writing about my adventures out there, and my heart is always pulled towards the horizon of both things.

Making the decision to abort my plans to race in the Singlehanded Transpac again in 2018, was one that wrenched my heart in a huge way. I felt so called to do it, and to recruit more women to do the same, as well as to document all of our experiences as a vehicle to inspire more women to embark upon amazing adventures such as this. My personal prayer and goal was to have a record number of women race in 2018 (a meager 4 would have done the trick) to make a start at bringing more parity to the race roster and the finish line in Hanalei.

I just found out tonight that there are now three women registered for the race this year. I knew about my friend Carliane (through whom I have been living vicariously in all of her race preparations), but learning of two other women was a happy surprise to me. If I am honest though, my heart broke a little when I heard, because I want to be there so badly. Also, if I (or any other woman) were registered, we would have our record year.

As I have written about a lot in this and my art blog, this has been a year of letting go for me. It has been a year of redefining so many things. Part of letting go has been about releasing what is not meant for me, to make space for what I need. The only thing I can do now as I nurse my aching heart, is to trust that my original decision is the right one, and that this is not my time. I am called to once again let go and allow what is meant to be to unfold gracefully.

I bow down to and celebrate each of the women and men who have registered in this year’s race, for that act alone is brave and powerful. I am grateful that the number of women on the roster of this historic race is increasing, and I hope to be able to interview each one before they cross the start line in June. No matter what, I am with you each in spirit, and will do my best to be there to cheer you all on at the start, and hopefully hug you in Hanalei at the finish of one of the most amazing things you will ever do!

The Importance of Embracing The Ups and Downs

I am feeling very raw today. As my life changes course and I adjust my sails to heed a calling I cannot ignore, I feel more and more vulnerable. As one of my favorite teachers, Brene’ Brown says, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.” As much as I know this deep in my bones, I am writhing with the discomfort of it…yet even in that discomfort, I trust the deep truth of it.

As I approach 50, I am feeling the need to shed some layers. I am tired from a lifetime of presenting a polished and “acceptable” version of myself to keep the peace in my life. I am learning that the most important thing I can do right now is to trust myself and be true to what I feel. I cannot help but relate this to my journey across the Pacific. I was called on to trust myself every moment of every day out there, even when it didn’t feel comfortable or easy to do. I had to trust in my foundation as a sailor and as a human. I had to know that when all was said and done, the truth and strength that lay within that act of trust was enough….that I was enough. I learned out there that I did not have to audition for “the part” (the part of being all things to all people) anymore, and that being the whole raw unadulterated version of myself was more than enough. This was a huge realization for me, because despite all of the things I have accomplished in my life, I have never felt like I was enough. I always thought (still think sometimes) that I had to do more and be more, just to be accepted and deemed as worthy by those around me. I know that this is not a unique plight, but the reverberations of how this revelation affects me personally are shaking me deeply right now.

I am still working on allowing all that I learned on my journey at sea percolate so that I can assimilate it into my daily life. This integration is often painful, however as I come face to face with very old and stubborn habits that are alive and well in my land life. One of those habits is allowing my trust in myself to waiver when I sense doubt in another. My knee jerk reaction is to abandon my own ship in order to keep the peace with another (to quell the horrible feeling of their displeasure). I can see now that when I do this, I am betraying myself, and that is the ultimate betrayal.

So today, I am crawling back up onto my ship and taking the helm with purpose. I am calling on the strength and deep self-trust I felt at sea to remind me of who I really am. I am calling on the oneness I felt with spirit as I plummeted across the Pacific to remind me that all is well, and as it should be. I am calling on the healing powers of nature and Mother Ocean to remind me of the infinite goodness in myself and the world. Being alone at sea reminded me of the order of things, and that that order just IS. There is no need to audition, there is no need to jump ship, but rather to simply be mindful of my own ship and the manner in which I sail her so that she is at one with the flow of the sea.

Ps….I have been posting some videos lately on my Facebook and Instagram feeds about the ups and downs of my journey (I have added a couple below). I have gotten some strong reactions from people who felt that they needed to worry about me because it looked so hard and uncomfortable.. Please don’t worry! For me there is so much strength in sharing the down times, for they are fertilizer for healing and growth, and I would never trade any of them for anything! It is in that spirit that I share this part of my emotional journey with all of you. For me, it’s all the same. This is WHY I sail!

Beware of F Bombs!!!!! :-) A raw and real moment at sea!! Its all a part of the process. I embrace it all!

New Adventures Await! 2018 Singlehanded Transpac, Here We Come!

I am sitting here at dawn, watching the sun slowly illuminate the Golden Gate Bridge. In the gentle light, I can see a tanker swiftly making its way under the bridge and heading out to sea. I still cannot believe that Haunani and I crossed that same threshold and into the great unknown just 8 months ago. My journey feels so far away and surreal, and most times I have to remind myself that it really happened. Thankfully this week I have gotten to connect with some of my fellow racers to finally be able to share bits of our experiences, which has helped with that reminder. Though I do not know any of them well, just being in their presence, and knowing that we all shared (albeit separately) such a profound experience is grounding for me.

Our little gaggle of sailors in Tiburon

As I drove into the Bay Area for my first visit since I departed the dock in Tiburon with all of those brave souls, I was reminded of so many milestones and moments. Memories flooded my being as I saw the little marina that housed Haunani and me for 2 weeks before the race, and the yacht club where I met everyone for the first time, and the dock from where we all cast off, and finally the Golden Gate Bridge, which will always be a symbol for me of the beginning of my great journey home to myself.  As I experience all of these remembrances throughout my visit, I have consistently had a feeling of disbelief, like I need to pinch myself to remind myself that all of it really happened. I wonder when this sensation of incredulity will dissolve and (hopefully) morph into a deep knowing that lives in my bones.

I find myself wishing I were able to more vividly recall sensations and daily memories of my voyage. My video footage helps, but the actual memories seem to morph into one another. It leaves me craving more, and wanting to feel it all over again. I want to be surrounded by the magic of the watery disk again, I want to feel the expanse of the huge and powerful sea surrounding me and urging me on, I want to witness the private showing of weeks of magical sunrises and sunsets.

Every time I see the horizon over the Pacific, she calls to me. Her allure is irresistible, so much so that I have surrendered and have decided to enter the 2018 Singlehanded Transpac with my new love, Cassiopeia, and do it all over again. Please stay tuned. I am working on a very exciting project as a way to honor and feature the women of the Singlehanded Transpac, and the race itself. I am so excited and inspired…..and yes, just a little bit INSANE!

"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds... where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you beyond the next turning of the canyon walls."

- Benediction: Edward Abbey

Haunani, The Brave Catalina 34 That Could

As much as I am comfortable with my own feelings and vulnerability, my knee jerk reaction when I am hurting is to play it tough and put on a brave face, to the point of ridiculously minimizing my own experience. I share just enough to demonstrate appropriate sadness, and stuff the rest out of deep fear of being deemed “too much”. The more deeply I feel something, the more I do this…..usually until I cannot hold it all in anymore and the only thing left for me to do is crumple into a heap and feel it all.

Yesterday I was in a heap. I received an email from a lovely person who said “ I am sorry to hear about the loss of Haunani, the brave C34 that could”…..well that did it, and I am so grateful, because I needed to stop and honor how I was truly feeling. I felt the reality of my loss come crashing down when I read those words. From the heap that was me (a puddle of tears, smudged mascara and snot really), the floodgates opened in earnest, and everything poured out. It all shook through me. I felt everything I had been pushing aside for the last 3 months and not fully allowing myself to embody: The emotional and financial stress of my dear dog being sick, my deep sadness over the loss of a very significant love in my life, and of course the grief of losing my beloved Haunani. Then there was the anger…the anger that someone did something so stupid and careless which in turn created a dark cloud over the most amazing experience of my life, is vibrating through my being as I write this.  As I allow all of these feelings, I can hear the familiar voice in my head trying to minimize it or talk myself out of the validity of my experience. Well, I am not going to do that anymore, because this is all very real for me, and would I advise something so callous to a beloved friend? No. Never.

I have never seen a dead human body, but I imagine when one does, that you can tell that the soul is no longer in residence. I have certainly seen that in animals that have passed. The other day, when I went to see my Haunani on the hard, I had that sensation. I know that this sounds dramatic, and that many people will not understand, but I felt like her soul was no longer there. Now, I KNOW she is just a boat, and supposedly an inanimate object…..but let me tell you, that girl had soul. My friends tell me that it is because of me that she had soul, but I am more inclined to believe that it was a mutual creation.

These few weeks since her sad return have been very challenging for me. I have had to be very “official” in my dealings with the shipping company as well as with the boat yard and other professionals on the scene. I have had to have conversations with people about her state that have been so matter of fact that I felt like I was betraying her very essence...not to mention my own heart. And all the while, I have been fighting off waves of soul shaking grief that can bring me to my knees. When I think of how I felt as Haunani intrepidly carried me across the wild Pacific, it is hard to believe that she will never sail again. My heart is truly broken.

As I navigate the challenging waters of her deconstruction, I am choosing to focus on her greatness, and the grace and strength with which she carried me and all that I am through so much. She came into my life three years ago, and not only provided deep solace for me as I healed a broken heart, but she turned me into an offshore sailor. She consistently reminded me of who I really am. The only way I can make this loss make any sense is to honor the meaning that our relationship brought to my life. To honor that there is a time and a season for all loves, and perhaps ours was only meant to last for three years. Maybe she sacrificed herself to deliver me. Whatever the deep meaning behind our bond, I will be forever grateful for Haunani, the brave Catalina 34 that could. 

all photos by Chris Woods

Sleeping Schedules And Alarm PTSD

I was sitting peacefully on my couch this morning flanked by sleepy dogs and enjoying the musical stylings of Ben Webster as they sublimely graced the airwaves of my home. A perfect cup of coffee was within arm’s reach as I settled in to do my morning writing. I said a little prayer thanking every deity and angel I could think of for the blessing of this moment, this space and this peace. That’s when it happened….THE DREADED ALARM!! It was loud and it was shocking and quickly shook me out of my blissful haze. In that moment on my couch, I was viscerally teleported to any one of my 17 nights in the middle of the Pacific aboard Haunani. It was a surreal auditory memory that in all seriousness still had my heart beating out of my chest several minutes later. The alarm is called “crystals”, and as peaceful as that sounds, trust me, it is not! Crystals has become my official sailing through the night wake up alarm. I originally chose it for its shocking quality and surefire guarantee to roust me from a deep sleep (granted, it would probably not work for everyone but I am a very sensitive and light sleeper). On land I steer clear of the use of it, because the sound of it sends me immediately into high alert, and in my daily life, that is of course, totally unnecessary. High alert so that I can remember to give my dog his heart medications would surely end up giving ME the heart attack! Anyway, I have no idea how that particular alarm ended up as my daily dog med alarm today, but it did, and once I settled down from the shock of it, I started reminiscing about what my nights were like out there trying to sleep as we plummeted through the inky blackness.

My usual bedtime, or more accurately, the beginning of a series of naps, was usually around 8pm. One last check to make sure Haunani could hold her own, then I would set my alarm for an hour or a little more, and try to sleep until my alarm would wake me. My first thought when the dreaded crystals would mockingly commence its shrill tune was often, “where am I?”, then “ok OK OK ……..JEEEEEEZUS!!!!!” (sorry if this offends anyone, but I do say this a fair amount despite my mad love for the sage prophet). Anyway, you get the idea. Its wet, its rocky, I’m tired beyond any kind of tired I have ever experienced, its dark, its surreal, eyes don’t work right, displays are blurry, nothing is where I put it, my written log has fallen into a puddle of water (aka: my cabin sole), and that’s blurry too (“where are my EFFING glasses NOW”??). I could go on and on, but I’m sure you get the idea. Waking up this way is jarring to say the least, but I must say that the heart pounding serves a purpose. It provides just enough juice to do the rounds….chart plotter, am I going the right way? Yes, thank GOD! Check. Any ships in view via AIS? No. Check. Wind: how much, from where, and does that work with how I left my sails? Yep. Check. Companionway horizon scan: any lights, or anything at ALL? No? Check. Sails: are they still trimmed well and doing their thing without under, or mostly in our case, over powering the boat? Yes. Check. Deck and rigging: is all well up there? Anything out of the ordinary? Nope. Phew! Check! Battery monitor. Are my batteries holding enough of a charge in the night? Thanks to my amazing hydro-generator and even though I lost a bank early on, yes! Check. Bilge. Is the disconcerting sloshing of water low enough not to slosh out or do I need to haul my ass on deck to manually pump it out? (Had lots of water coming in and the automatic pump went out early on). Nope, thank GOD! Check. Last but not least, the log. By the red glow of my headlamp I would diligently and exhaustedly scratch the following: lat/long, heading, speed, wind information (true wind speed and angle), barometer reading, and finally, my favorite box: miles to go. Unless something was amiss and needed tending, that was it, then, permission granted to (often literally) fall back into my bunk for another hour or so of precious sleep. Then, repeat......like 8 MORE TIMES!

I dreaded the sleep deprivation thing for months and months leading up to my trip. I had heard and read harrowing tales of everything from being rendered weak and useless to having hallucinations as a result. It terrified me because I am possessively attached to my eight hours! I often joke that if you want to get any secrets out of me, mess with my sleep. People close to me know that despite my gentle disposition, sleep deprivation can unearth a beast that is rivaled only by my L.O.P. (Loss Of Personality), a serious disorder (mostly affecting those around me) that comes from being hungry. Despite my trepidation about it, I must admit, that I was very pleasantly surprised by the ease with which I managed my sleeping schedule and the resulting exhaustion. (A caveat here: except for the last three nights, I was able to take my “naps” all night long every night, so I am well aware that I had that part easy!). As much as I did not like waking up all night, I got oddly used to the schedule, and learned to capitalize on those precious sips of sleep! That being said, I don’t think I need to put myself in that situation again anytime soon. I am cherishing my bed and the luxury of full night sleeps like never before. Now if I could just eradicate that pesky crystals from my phone!