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My dear wife Edie has bravely engaged my ambitions on three different
occasions. The first was when we retired
and moved to La Paz originally. Although
we have always had a boat of some description throughout our life together,
starting out with small powerboats that we raised the kids with, and moving to
sailboats in 1991, Edie suffered from sea and motion sickness, and it was all
by grit and determination that she was able to tolerate and indeed enjoy our
water borne excursions. She was always a
good sport, a brave sole, a willing companion, and a dedicated mother, making
sure that her fears and feeling of being seasick would not interfere with the
good times that were enjoyed by the family.
But when I wanted to buy my second sailboat, she told me that she would
not object to me buying it, but please don’t ask her to sail with me. We agreed and for several years I held true
to that promise, but as we began to approach our retirement years and my dream
of cruising became a looming reality, she decided that she wanted to try again
to like sailing. We very carefully chose
good weather days, and we took our Irwin 37, STRAYDOGS, out on several occasions
for day sails down the coast of Florida, and she did not suffer from
seasickness nor was it scary for her, we had a wonderful time. She developed the theory that if she took it
a step at a time, that she could overcome her problems, and become the first
mate that she so wanted to be, and when we retired and went to Mexico, this was
the position that we were taking. But
two things happened that changed that position, one was that Edie missed the
family, her friends, and life back in the states, and she also was driven by a
need to do something special with her life, that she did not feel that she had
yet accomplished. Tagging along with me
as my first mate, especially when most of what we were doing was working on the
boat, was not a fulfilling life for anyone, so when Edie brought up the
possibility of returning to the states, I supported her fully, and we set her
up in an apartment in Cary, N.C. After
several months back in the states something happened that may have been some
amount of a surprise: we missed either other so very much. In February of 2012 we decided that she
should fly down to Mexico, and we would go on a sailing trip, and Edie would
just face her fears and together we would defeat them. It turned out to be a terrible experience in
that the weather turned bad, the seas were angry, and our attempted trip to
Mazatlan ended with both of us beat up and dejected, thinking that this is
impossible. Edie had been so seasick,
and so miserable and questioned her
abilities to cope and her strength to persevere. On two different occasions she was thrown
down by the action of the boat, and it was a wonder that she was not injured. But as sick as she was, she came up laughing
about it.* I’ll let her tell you the
funny part about being thrown down. It
is pretty funny, but she may not want you to know about it. The one thing that Edie felt she accomplished
by this trip was addressing her fears.
We had been faced with seas up to 12 feet, winds that topped out at over
32 miles per hour, and a boat that was not operating properly. Although she was sick to almost death’s door,
she sort of got over the feeling fear** that had for so long consumed her
thinking about sailing. As bad as the
trip was, this was actually a positive step forward. But after that trip, Edie returned to the
states, leaving both of us in doubt of what to do next.
Then we became aware of a medicine called Stugeron. It’s a
medicine that was developed by the British for use by their air force pilots,
and is not available for sale in the United States. We had never heard of it but several of our
friends in Mexico had told us about it.
According to reports, you only have to take the medicine when you feel
sick, not necessarily before you get sick, as we always had to do with other medications. The
medicine did not have to be taken as a preventative for sea sickness, but could
be used as a treatment. There were no
side effects, and no after effects.
Sounds too good to be true. Even
our doctor in Mexico strongly endorsed its use.
Our being apart was taking a toll on each of us and in the
month of June, 2012 Edie and Buddi returned to Mexico again, armed with new
information on a sea sick remedy, as well as a massive amount of determination
on Edie’s part. This time we planned a
voyage of major magnitude. We planned to
be out for a month, and we would go to Loreta, a historic, beautiful and
charming little town about 300 miles north of La Paz. We had good weather, bad weather, a
hurricane, great sailing, magnificent scenery, great diving, great hiking and
exploring, and great companionship with two other boats that we buddied up
with. We even did an overnight passage on the way back to La Paz in order
that Edie would finally see a sky so unpolluted with artificial ambient light
that all the stars could be seen, the milky way could be seen, and the glories
that I had told her about could be witnessed.
She even did a watch of her own, where I slept and she was in charge of
the boat. Not once through the entire
trip was she sea sick, not even during the hurricane.
But things were not all right. Edie felt an overwhelming fear almost the
entire time that she was out.*** When the
sea was disturbed she had doubts about the boat, and suffered a constant
nagging that almost consumed her. She
tried with great concentration to control that uneasy, uncertain feeling, but
it seemed to dominate her subconscious thought.
And she suddenly came to the conclusion that these feelings would
compromise her ability to conduct the duties that she would naturally have in
passage making. And after a long period
of dealing with these issues, with the season approaching fast that would
require me to either start my cruise, or to put it off for another year, Edie
decided that she and Buddi would again return to the states.
This decision was probably the most generous, loving,
considerate, self sacrificing and dignified decision that I have ever been
witness to. Edie would not allow in any
way, her inability to cope with the demands of sailing to interfere with my
plans, which had been my dream for many years.
This returning to the states was her gift to me, that would allow me to
continue with preparations and planning for a major cruise, that would probably
top off my sailing career, and the adventuresome part of my life. My gracious thanks to you Edie, I wonder
how many other people that I have every known in my entire lifetime would have
been so thoughtful and giving.****
*Funny story: with Milagro pitching violently from side to side I found I needed to go below to use the head. As it was very cold I was wearing several layers covered by foul weather gear with suspenders. It took quite a while to peel down to the essentials and as I was sitting on the throne and reaching for a bottle of blood pressure medication a huge wave hit Milagro; I was unceremoniously dumped off the throne into the galley along with some 80 small pills. There I sat, three pairs of pants around my ankles, trying to pick up little white pills that were everywhere! Yes I was bruised and battered but what could I do but laugh. I was just grateful that no one was taking pictures!
**Truth is, I was probably too sick to feel anything other than...well, sick.
***Actually, that's not so. True, there were times, when seas were rough, when I was very apprehensive. But most of the time I was thoroughly enjoying myself and quite relaxed. On the other hand when the fear overtook me it was all encompassing.
****I could do no less for my Captain. My dearest wish is that he has the voyage of his dreams, then returns to share his journey with me.
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