Little guys

I've been so distracted. The sun's been out, there's more time on the water, I have projects to finish that don't revolve around a shop or photographing it for the internet. It's so easy for me to forget to do things for myself instead of only to share with others. M will be home mid-March, the anticipation is killing me. The first few days of January feel like they were a year ago, yet I haven't accomplished much of anything while he's been away. Ah well. There is only room ahead to improve.

Got some news that one of the people I admire most in the sailing world, Nick Jaffe, is having some breakthroughs with a documentary he made about singlehanding from Europe all the way home to Australia. I doubt many of the people reading this are after sailing tidbits (though if you are, please speak up!), but there's something really special about Nick Jaffe that isn't what you "typically" see in this realm of sport and lifestyle. First and foremost, he isn't a rich white middle aged guy with a super-yacht. He's my age, he wasn't some decorated sailor of the year, he didn't even have insurance on his boat when he set sail on his adventure. He wasn't cocky, he wasn't trying to win anyone over. He was going to sail home because he wanted to. So he did.

Constellation in English Harbour, Antigua.


Sighting Australia after 2 years, 3 months sailing from Europe.

In sailing, from my perspective, all the glossy tropical magazines, popular websites full of models in bikinis in unrealistic settings, Puma Racing videos, Americas Cup commercials - they all give off a very sleek, untouchable vibe that dominates this community. Sure, it is a massive percentage of sailing the world over. But behind all the glittery business and million dollar catamarans, are all the little guys. The people who sail because their home is the sea, or they're desiring adventure, maybe they're searching for something and the waves are calling them in. Maybe they're doing it simply because they love it. Maybe it's all of those things. But it's not always pretty. Sometimes it's fucking terrifying, it can be lonely and isolated, it's wet, it smells, and let's not forget that sailing is hard work. You versus Nature.

So that's why I like Nick, because he's a little guy, like me. Except I'm just a baby sailor. I like when he made his journey, and decided to make a documentary out of it, he didn't flutter around as if he were cruising in luxury, he didn't exude any pompous tendencies. He showed his truth, alone in the middle of nowhere. Some of his videos are funny, and they all possess a beautiful quality about them. A few of them made me cry for various reasons, some of which don't deserve words.

When I think about wanting to sail around the world, the emotion that crosses my mind most, other than longing, is fear. What if I get hurt? What if my symptoms get worse and I can't move my limbs? What if some rogue wave sinks us? How on earth is the girl who is afraid of the dark going to cope in the blackness of night on the open sea?
I could make a list that would stretch for miles, full of "what-if"s. But I don't, because I don't know, and nobody can. So instead, the sense of longing is overwhelming. Longing can mean so many positive things. When will I see my first whale? What will it look like the first morning I'm offshore while the sun rises? There must be at least a dozen ways to make quinoa more interesting? How many gorgeous photographs will I get to take?

The reality of all these things is what stands out in my eyes as making Nick a truly inspiring sailor. Someone who is brave enough to try and humble enough to be in awe. The documentary he and Jack Rath have put together, Between Home, is bound to be awesome, and it deserves the acclaim after working on it for a long time. Even if you're not interested in sailing or the sea, there is a tremendous amount that can be learned about love from a young guy alone in the middle of the ocean. I'm so excited.