LAKE CONSTANCE PILOT CUTTER
blanketed by a thick, misty haze. Droplets of rain began
to land on the deck, and the steady Force 4 promptly
rose to a Force 6 or 7. Flying Cloud went from sailing
along effortlessly to being dangerously overpowered. I
lashed down one of the genoas, and within 15 minutes,
conditions were back to normal again.
Squalls became a daily occurrence, as did dolphin
visits and flying fish landing on the deck. I saw whales,
and I caught fish. Sargasso weed came and went,
breaking up the seemingly endless expanse of sea.
After about two weeks alone, my perception of the
world began to change in a way it had never done
before. By leaving society I had also left all the daily
stresses that are applied to us unknowingly, and found
this new, uncomplicated lifestyle. The absence of this
mental pressure brought about a prolonged feeling of
euphoria, the purest form of joy I have ever known.
The Atlantic transformed my vague discontent with
western civilisation into confusion. The lives of so many
of my friends and acquaintances made absolutely no
sense to me. Why live a life governed by money and
burdened with stress, when you could have an existence
this satisfying? There was a strong temptation to be done
with civilisation entirely. By casting it away and making
your own way in the world, you realise how full life can
be without it, but also how much we depend on it.PAINFUL EXPERIENCE
This realisation came to me one morning when priming
my paraffin stove. I’ve had a few painful experiences in
my 21 years – but having half a litre of methylated spirit
blow up unexpectedly on my barely clothed body is by
far the most excruciating. So I did the obvious, yet the
counterintuitive thing – I flung my flaming body over the
guardrail into the warm, equatorial Atlantic. I held onto
the stanchion and I climbed back in and the first aid kit
came out. I cursed myself for making such a trivial, yet
serious, mistake several days away from anyone who
could help. All I could do was to patch myself up and
limp into Grenada.
Like a rollercoaster ride, long distance sailing on small
boats is distinguished by heavenly highs and dismal lows.
In a split second my enchanting experience collapsed into
a gruelling ordeal. Twenty days out of Mindelo and eight
months out of Falmouth, I set foot on Grenada. It was as
if I had arrived in a pampered new world. No longer did
I have to take my own medical care into my own hands- there were experts for that. There was fresh food and
cold drinks, clean sheets and dry beds. Grenada was a
sensory overload – rich, colourful and exotic.
The fire had burnt me badly, on my chest and arms,
but also a few patches on my face. For the first time in my
life, I actually needed medical care: I had to spend some
time out of the sun. I was also penniless and
acknowledged the sign to return to overcast Cornwall to
recuperate. I secured Flying Cloud somewhere safe, and
left, not with a feeling of frustration by the change in
circumstance, but with a feeling of elation at all that I
had gained in the past eight months: memories, friends,
skills knowledge and, above all, happiness. I knew I’d be
back to Flying Cloud soon for the next chapter of her
adventure. After genuinely experiencing the real world,
I decided that a normal life on land wasn’t for me.