Supplement to YouTube Episode 1 -Sailing to Baja, Mexico - Finally!

Sailing to Santispac

So much of our journey is hard to put into a short video. 

As much as we enjoy sharing our sailing adventures via YouTube, there is a lot missing from these tales! 

Our adventures are also an internal process of discovery. Owning a boat, sailing, living a nomadic/cruiser lifestyle is an avenue for me to explore who I am. The totality of being human in all its messiness, glory and tedium. 

There is so much I want to share about the journey beyond the surface events of 'what happened' when we go for a sail. The sailing life is the structure that I can move within to know myself. 

My thoughts, my triumphs and challenges, my intentions, are glossed over in the videos so that a small story can be shared-a window into our experiences. 

I find value in sharing these videos, but they lack for me a deeper level of awareness that I wish to share with those that have an interest in listening. 

For this reason I am beginning a blog, as a supplement to my videos. 

I will begin with this past sailing season in Mexico as it was quite eventful. 

Shay and I were excited to have a couple months to sail after working for a few years on Holoholo, our 38' DownEast sailboat. 

It is always an exciting and nerve wracking day when you throw off the lines from the dock and head out alone to sea. 

All the hard work, the dreams and expectations, the concerns about projects left unfinished, all swirling around my mind. What weather will we encounter? Did we remember everything? What if something breaks? Of course something will break! 

I wonder what it will be?

All the nerves and hopes are then shaken out with the sails. The wind catches, the engine is turned off, the boat heels over and we are off! No time for anything other than being present with the boat and the sea, as Holoholo must be attended to as we harness the wind to sail across the Sea of Cortez. 

Time passes, and we settle in to a rhythm of working the boat, listening to the wind, watching the waves, the instruments and adjusting our bodies to a life in motion as we attempt to cross the sea.

We adjust constantly to the motion, the change in wind and sea state, it is a dance between us all to navigate our way safely.

But it is not always poetic. 

It can be hard-on our bodies, our sleep, our stomachs, our confidence. It takes internal strength to be a sailor. To battle your own fears and to do the thing anyway. 

To cross a small sea, to explore despite the dangers, to glean all the wonder and joy from the daring escapade as possible. 

And so we set out in March of 2023 to cross the sea and cruise Baja as our enjoyment sees fit. To finally take the time to play aboard Holoholo, or do nothing at all. Just be with the sea and sky- our playmates in this adventure. 

The sail across to Santispac was a dream of a sail. No need for the engine until the last few hours. We enjoy clear skies and a full moon lighting our way. Other than being very tired we arrive happy the next afternoon and drop anchor in a remote bay.

This accomplishment, the feeling of finally having arrived to the first leg of the dream feels surreal. We did it! 

Holoholo is still afloat, nothing broke, and so we sleep deeply for a long time. 

I spend the next days staring at the sea. It's too cold to swim but I am content to sit against the cockpit and watch the ocean and the pelicans swooping in for fish. I am satisfied in this moment, knowing we accomplished this goal. 

We figured out all that needed figuring in order for us to be sitting here in a bay in Mexico on our boat scheming about where we will go next. 

I feel a rare moment of success, and a humble pride, that we came to this magical moment. We are cruisers. Not just dock rats forever fixing our old boat. 

I can now admit to myself how nerve wracking this has been for me. How my hands shook while griping the boat wheel as I steered us toward the entrance of the channel. 

How I took big, gulping breaths to calm myself when a strange noise in the middle of the night shook my confidence. For a moment I wondered what would happen if we were taking on water. Allowing myself just a couple seconds of "what if" scenarios, but ultimately reminding myself that I know this boat intimately having repaired practically every system with Shay. I must trust that I will figure out a solution to most any issue. 

Trusting myself, this seems to be the theme as of late. 

That I can figure it out, if something broke, if there was an emergency, that I could rise to the challenge. After all, this is what we have been doing since we came to Mexico 6 years ago. Tackling one thing after another, after another, until we are so deep into fixing that we realize that solutions are not talent, they are willingness and creativity. 

"I can do this," I tell myself under my breath. This is my mantra whenever fear tickles at my throat.

Despite the fear and doubt, our tenacity and willingness to adventure wins the day, and here I sit against the cockpit, watching the sea, content within the dream.

I cannot control what lies ahead, or what breaks. So I surrender to the moment, present with the possibilities, loosening the desire for control just a wee bit more. Learning to lean into the unknown.