Dad, I'm going away.

My father is 86. He re-married 5 years after my mother’s death in 1998. But after a heart attack and a stroke he lives in a Retirement Home outside of Fresno, California. After his stroke his speaking is nearly impossible to understand over the phone. In person it is easier. But his mind has been clear. His new wife visits often and communicates his health and messages to me.

I knew that an important action before leaving was to make a trip to California. It is within reason to understand that something may happen when I am at sea, I might not be able to get home and he might not be around when I return. So I am going to say goodbye just in case.
I was looking forward to some heart to hearts but when I arrived he was very ill. An infection had affected his brain and all he did was quote Bible verses and pray out loud. I tried not to let my disappointment show and for 3 days I spent most of my time at the Home. Finally on the last day, right before my flight he had improved a bit.

“Dad, do you know I am going away?” I said scooting as close as I could to his wheel chair.
He nodded yes.
“I will be sailing for a long time and might not be able to see you again, do you understand what I’m saying?” I continued.
“Yes,” he said. “You be careful.”
“I will. The captain is very good, very safe,” I answered.
“I love you very much,” he finished and hung his head down.

I had heard I love you many times that weekend, and if I could have had just ONE when I was in high school, it may have changed a lot. But now my 6 foot, ultra conservative, hardy, eccentric father is a frail old man confined to a wheel chair. However, out of the entire weekend, it was the moment I had hoped for. I knew he understood and we had said our goodbyes.

There is goodbye and there is see you later. I’m afraid this was goodbye.

Emails from Italy

Dear Captain, I had a terrible day at the company. Tomorrow is poised to be worse. Tell me it’s real out there. Tell me that I will escape all this with something to look towards. I KNOW it will be hard work at times…sailing always is. I know it will be a huge adjustment to live in 4 feet of personal space but I cannot take it here much longer. I think I might jump off a cliff. Edee

November 19, 2009
Dear Edee,
Hang in there! I promise it will get better. In the past six months we’ve seen the green flash, whales breaching, an active volcano spouting steam, the ruins of Pompeii…I could go on.
There’s a whole world out here, Edee, bigger and better than the little ones we have to live in most of the time. Soon enough, you’ll be out here in it. Okay? So stay tough, and let me know how you’re doing. The Captain

SY Juno; the maiden voyage ie: Voyage of the dammed

In 2008 the Captain emailed to say they had decided on a boat purchase and do I want to help crew it from Virginia to Florida? I thought it would be a good experience for me to travel both the Intracoastal and the open ocean off the coast of the Carolina's.

Except, it was November.

Being a warm water girl, I had not experienced cold sailing. I flew to Virginia and got to the marina late. Even in the dark, I loved SS Juno, a 44" Alden Cutter. Three of us left Virginia the next morning...the weather was in the 40's.

The Intracoastal was a pure joy. Our only worries were finding anchorage before dark and the optical illusions that the bridges give you going under them. (Oh yeah, and somehow ending up backwards in the Lock...was it MY fault the guy couldn't catch a line?!)

Little did I know it would be the Voyage of the dammed.

Researching a boat to buy is different than really knowing her. Being an unfamiliar boat to the Captain, he spent days prepping best he could and knew that the European past owner had done ocean crossings. But once we hit open ocean, everything that could go wrong did.

Starting with the other crew member spending the next 48 hours pucking.

NOAA had called for 3 to 6 feet with perfect winds. God had other plans. The waves turned 8 to 10 with a 10 foot swell that first night. The wind turned to be worse case scenario and 50 knot winds gusted for added excitement. First to go was the Weather Vain, an automatic pilot device for heavy weather. This meant taking 100 percent of the helm and the weight of every wave. I was too ramped to sleep so I took the first rotation: Midnight to 3am. I refused to look behind me again after seeing the moonlight light up a wave looming overhead. Even though I had 5 layers of clothing on top and 4 on bottom including my foul weather gear, by 3am I was absolutely freezing and exhausted. Finally, after singing every camp song I could remember from childhood at the top of my lungs, I just started to sob. Seasick crew mate Mathew awoke with courage enough to run thru the galley and to the fore cabin and wake the Captain. Once we changed shifts, safe in the galley, I peeled off my cloths and realized the real culprit. My brand new foul weather gear had failed; I was soaked to the bone with the freezing water.

When I returned, I had to make a list just to process all that had happened. Here it is:

Leave Virginia in the 40's
Mosquito's
Shower breaks
Weather Vane breaks
Takes on water, bilge every hour
Drop lock nut in water---that was me
End up backwards in the Lock---blamed on me
Dingy motors (2) do not work.
Brown water comes out of facets
Complete fog off Charleston
Found out LATER we were reading the radar wrong
Lightning
Tanker anchored 25 miles out
Motor Stops; help change fuel filter, bleed lines, get diesel only to discover we really just ran out of gas on the port side. (didn't I suggest that?)
Winds N/W. Our direction: N/W= bad combination for making progress
Rouge wave hits Shirish on watch; rips canvas and swamps deck.
Engine Blower Breaks
Propane emergency alarm keeps going off to read: Exposives! Danger!
Wind Generators not ready to be used
Storm hits nearing destination---can't see Chanel markers.
Marina cancelled our reservation
Moored the boat in a gale with a rapid current
My car is in sight with warm clean cloths but I can't get to it until morning.
Arrive in Florida to freak weather: Temperature in the 40's!
AND NO RUM.

A year later, Juno is a tip top sailing machine already in Italy. But for anyone who thinks sailing is only a vacation, you have not been on a passage. I thought long and hard about the maiden voyage before I made my decision to join them. Skyping from Italy one day, The Captain assured me the NOTHING like what happened to us on that first trip had happened again. I'll take my chances.

Emails from Italy

Dear Edee,
My wife has told me a little of shutting down  your Daytona life, but not all. You are absolutely welcome here, and we’re looking forward to having you. You are great crew, and a dear friend. We will have memorable adventures.
We are here in Italy for the winter, through at least mid-March possibly early April. Then it’s across to Greece, around to the Greek isles until about mid-June, and then slowly start working our way back west: Sicily, Lipari Islands, Sardinia, Balearic Islands (you will LOVE these), then go to the Cape Verde Islands. From there, the crossing to Barbados should be about 12 days. We will spend that winter in the Caribbean, and then Spring in the Bahamas as we work our way back toward the States…by early summer 2011. …the Captain

Standing on the Edge of a Cliff

I made a promise to my sister long before I knew my life was going to take a twist. I promised I would join her if she did her first Half Marathon. It is my eighth Half and now it’s coming up in Kansas City this weekend. Ironically, as my life is changing, hers is doing the same. After 30 years in Finance, and being laid off by Sprint eight months ago she has decided to go to nursing school. And after 21 years of marriage and putting up with his multiple affairs, she has decided to end the marriage. We are both standing on the edge of a cliff ready to jump. I have not told my job, she has not told her husband. But for now, that’s on hold. For this weekend we run, walk, move towards a finish line 13.1 miles away.

Small problem as I fly to KC…the regular Flu Shot I had yesterday is effecting me and I am breaking out in Hives. I have a shot every year so I don’t understand what’s happening. By the time I arrive in KC, I drag my sister into the bathroom showing her my torso. By the expression on her face I knew it was bad. I am having a severe reaction to the flu shot. With a call to my doctor, I get the meds but the itching is insatiable. For 48 hours I itch. Then by a miracle, the night before the Marathon I sleep all night. So by 5am, I decide; "I can do this”. I’m as afraid of the 40 degree temperature that morning as I am the itching! I carry some extra Benadryl and we head to the start line. As the miles pass, the fog is clearing in my mind. Changing my life is what I need to do, it’s the direction I need to take. I finish and watch proudly as my sister gets her first finishers medal.

Now both of us head toward vastly different life changes. Ready to jump off that cliff and head towards new finish lines.

Compromise

The Company was given my ultimatum in September. Today I got their answer, they didn’t accept it but counter offered. It felt a sign. Because I was asking for a short term fix compared to my long term sacrifice, the small difference in the counter offer felt insulting. Drawing a line in the sand can be very tricky. Then telling myself if it goes one way it is a “sign”. Like flipping a coin to determine which way to drive; North or South. I did that once and ended up talking my way onto a Cruise Ship and ending up in the Bahamas. But you do things like that at 24. Now was I looking at a sign or looking for a sign? A justification that a tide of change had hit my heart and the idea of Sailing and seeing the World was starting to feel more right then than wrong.
I agreed with the counter offer.
I knew it was a temporary fix and decided it would give me more time to work on making my business profitable or more time to justify a change. SIDE NOTE: with time, this tiny 5% difference in commission would be the deciding factor. And the Company’s final decision maker, some big wig who doesn’t even know me, set my life on a brand new course.

Plan B, just a negotiation technique?

I’m in the stairwell on the 7th floor of my building. The only private place I could find on short notice. I am leaving in a few minutes to drive to Orlando to give the Company an altermatim. I need to close my business on Oct. 1 unless something is done to help stop the financial bleeding. But I have studied negotiations, I am in a very bad spot: I have all my eggs in the same basket and could look desperate. I need an option and I need it fast. Something that I can have in the back of my mind, for my future, if I close my business. Like a “Plan B.” So I call my friend. I have sailed with her and her husband, many times and I know he had planned and executed a 2 year plan to sail the Mediterranean and Caribbean homeschooling their 2 boys while she pursued her career and flew to Ports meeting them along the way. The boat was 5 months into the trip. Surprisingly she answers her cell having been caught between her many meetings. Between sobs, I explain that I need a backup plan in case I need to quit my job. I ask “Could I crew for the rest of the trip?” The answer came quick, “Can we fly you there next week?” she responds excitedly.

And now, I’m ready for my meeting.