Cruising World - May 2016

26

may 2016

cruisingworld.com

ON WATCH

There’d be no papers. It wouldn’t be a

legal adoption. We could be accused of

theft, kidnapping or even worse.

The father and son hugged. The fi sh-

erman stroked the boy’s dark hair and

whispered to him as they drifted astern.

I felt awful. I felt like puking. When had

I turned so heartless? So selfi sh? So cold?

“Cranking up,” I whispered to Carolyn

as our Perkins M92B roared to life.

“Anchor’s coming up,” Carolyn replied

as she dashed forward.

Carolyn and I have since discussed

this emotionally draining, oh-so-sad inci-

dent many times, carefully attempting

to parse the fi sherman’s intent and the

dif erence between abandoning a child

and attempting to give one a better life.

I am, at my core, a family man, just as

my father was. The high point in life for

Carolyn and me wasn’t sailing around the

world; it was raising our daughter, Roma

Orion, aboard. We think she turned out

well. In any event, she has an MBA from

Brandeis, a six-fi gure job and a wonder-

ful husband. Best of all, she shares our

granddaughter, Sokù Orion, with us.

We’re truly blessed.

We raised our daughter to be ef ec-

tive, to accomplish her goals and, above

all else, to be tenacious. However, I didn’t

specifi cally raise her to be a sailor or

writer. I wanted a daughter, not a clone.

And I knew that if we encouraged her

to think for herself, someday she’d think

dif erently from us. And she does. And I

love her all the more for it, which is just

another way of saying I really have no idea

why my daughter wanted to adopt her sec-

ond child. But once I realized fi ve years

ago how vitally important it was to her, I

shoved aside my personal misgivings and

fully supported her as best I could. Legally

adopting a child takes many years, dozens

of reams of paper, and a couple of green-

backs as well.

So, ironically, there Carolyn and I were,

sailing toward bustling Singapore to act as

a waterborne support team to a growing

family, when we ran into the fi sherman.

Odd timing, no?

Adoption, we would learn, is a curious

process. At one point we were all peering

down at a bureaucratic preference form

that asked about things like race and

gender. It really makes you think, makes

you search deep inside. Roma checked

of the box “under 3 years of age,” and

that was that.

Obviously, totally healthy babies are

at a premium. When Roma went to pick

up 20-month-old Tessa Maria, she also

brought home a huge metal contraption.

Tessa couldn’t walk or talk, though she

was at an age when many kids can’t stop

doing either. She required a brace, and

braces are heavy. They sink. PFDs can’t

cope. Such a disability isn’t, how do I put

it, boat-friendly.

Oh, well.

Tessa’s 4-and-a-half-year-old sister,

Sokù, was already quite a sailor. She’d

lived aboard for brief periods and sailed

with us in Turkey, the Balearic Islands and

the Caribbean. She once even transited

the dreaded Anegada Passage on our way

to St. Maarten to buy our present home,

Ganesh, our Wauquiez Amphitrite 43.

Alas, Tessa Maria might be a totally dif-

ferent story.

Frankly, the whole adoption thing

struck me as the biggest crapshoot imag-

inable. Why roll those dice?

Then came the day Roma pulled up in

a dinghy on the port side of Ganesh and

handed tiny Tessa to me over the lifelines.

All my worries about

bonding and babies and

braces and boats

disappeared in the puff

of that joyous smile.

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