Encanto is returning…….Home?
After almost 5 years and some 10,000+ nautical miles, S/V Encanto is returning to SF.

Many people along the way have asked us….”What has been your favorite place?” Instinct would tell me to say: Machu Pichu, Teotectulan, Tikal, Antigua, Fakarava, or The Galapagos Archipelago.

In reality, it is none of these. All  being favorite places, but rather Encanto. I have had the amazing fortune to bond with my family in a way that no other avenue would have ever allowed.

Daily I have watched with wonder and joy as Gabe and Sam have discovered not only different societies and peoples, but themselves. To her horror I made Gabe swim with Whale Sharks in the sea of Cortez. Afterword, she said to me, “I am glad you made me do it, they are beautiful creatures, but I doubt I will ever do it again.” She had discovered her physical limit. She also learned the joy found in the experience of pushing herself beyond her normal boundaries. Later, with much trepidation and no prodding from me; she joined us on a pass dive at the entrance to the Tuamotu atoll, Fakarava. She swam in the midst of reef sharks. She made me proud. A year later, Anya’s hand though, is still recovering. On the other hand, in Salvador, she eagerly gave comfort to a badly disfigured young boy, thinking nothing of it, other than the comfort she provided. Sam on the other hand is still trying to find her physical limit. With joy and no hesitation, she dove and swam after the Whale Sharks and explored the reefs of Fakarava. At Toau, she dove after Manta Rays. Judy’s heart is still palpitating after I called her up on deck to see Sam sitting on the first spreader, some 25 feet off the deck with no harness, with the grin of a Cheshire cat. She had shimmied up the main halyard, the rope we use to haul up the main sail. I suspect her hesitation will be with the boyz, although she has now come to enjoy the symmetry of a well defined Polynesian “six pack.”

I marvel at Judy, her capacity to find options for any issue. For her, no problem is without solution. The most creative person I know. The times when she is seasick I am in agony (not at all as much as she) thinking I have brought her out into this environment. If it is a long passage, she is herself again in 4-5 days. It is her love of travel, new friends and cuisines that drive her forward; definitely not the sailing. She too is like a small child when we are visited by dolphins at the bow. I so love her passion for life and people.

As a family we have developed bonds that I doubt would be there had we continued the expected path. We have all developed respect for each other’s strengths and differences. At the same time we lend encouragement to overcome our weaknesses.

Home. An interesting concept. For Judy and I, home has always been where the hat hung, and now it will once again be in the San Francisco Bay Area. I wish the place could be up to our standards. We have had the good fortune to see large parts of the world, and fortunately not through the lens of 5 star hotels and resorts. All four of us have changed. Home has been the world we’ve seen and lived in, the old home needs to catch up. We are returning during a time of great promise or curse. Time will tell. It’s election time; hope and dreams, against laissez faire. Fear is still ruling politics and the lives of people. Never have I seen so many half empty glasses, their owners looking for blame and scapegoats. I fear the future will be decided not by rational thought, but rather the fear of the perceived unknown.

When we departed the Galapagos for the Marquesis, a voyage of 20 to 30 days, our crew noted it was partly cloudy. I corrected her, it was mostly sunny. It is all about attitude. As the saying goes, the difference between an ordeal and adventure is attitude. I haven’t always been this sunny, it is a relatively new phenomenon. Its part, “you don’t always get what you want, but you get what you need” and opportunity. Some time ago, after a client meeting where our favorite proposals were rejected, a young designer said to me: “now we get to do something completely different.” I was instantly blinded. I still am. I can do anything. Judy and I have. We will continue to do so. It’s change. It’s the dependable constant.  It’s new. Not always better, so discard it. Try something else. Risk. Create. THINK. Solve. Move on.

I fear the society we are returning to has become so adverse to risk, adventure (they do look fine together at the prom) and creative problem solving, it is stagnate. Very complex problems are all now being solved in the same manner. Salvation is at the end of a big stick. Ban it. If it can’t be solved in a 30 second TV spot, it has no solution. The long view is this afternoon’s presentation about yesterday.

To “leave no child behind,” students are learning by rote, not by process. The ability to question and wonder is lost. The answer now is always 42. Big stick. As a very conservative friend once said, ”I can only hope the Country is lucky enough to end up like England.” Dinnertime conversations on Encanto have been like none that Judy and I can remember as children. Gabe and Sam probe, parry, reflect, and probe again. Over any subject. We hold no limits.

I am hopeful. There are creative people out there. Dreamers. Stuff from which solutions are given life. They need room. Space. Health. Different perspectives from minds different from comfort. Places from where new ideas come, or alterations of old. Not fear. We all need to feel a little uncomfortable from time to time. It makes us think. Respond. Solve. Hopefully by rational thought. There are Dylan tunes that were relevant some 30 years ago. They are once again. They always have been, we just haven’t been paying attention. Distracted by greed. By Me. By what I have, what shows that: I Have Arrived.

But to where? I have the right zip code. The trophy wife. Kids in the “right schools.” A friend here in American Samoa has said, “I have a great house in Puerto Rico, another in Thailand, and two failed marriages. I suspect I might do things differently next time.” Too late to learn? Never. There is always hope. Ask any old Londoner or Maquis. They not only survived, but flourished. Under dreadful odds. Dreadful conditions. Heroes.

Where are they now? Maybe they can be found on the playing fields, silver screen, cds, between the pages of a book, or, next door. It’s hard to tell from the hype, the screaming, the reality shows (safer to view from a lazy boy than to live) or self important talking heads. I just learned I have a new one. He died in 1992, but I grew up with him on the evening news. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was a thoughtful, perceptive, courageous and intelligent man. All without being in the military, but reported of it in the ‘40’s. He did what he could, with the tools he had, to the best ability he could muster, all while maintaining integrity. A patriot. A true American. He probed, reflected and spoke out. Who can ever ask for more?

I am truly perplexed at what the notion of being a patriot has become. Do we as Americans feel that the only way to be patriotic is to wave a big flag and a big stick? I am alarmed that by questioning what seems to be a popular decision is thought to be unpatriotic. Certainly, within the past decade, people in important places, of many walks of life, were made to decide in a manner which belied their true convictions because of not wanting to take the risk of swimming a rip tide. Of being perceived unpatriotic. “If you aren’t with me, you’re against me.” A democracy needs the dissenting voice. It needs to be heard. With hope, it can lead to creative, otherwise unthought-of solutions. However, one must be willing to take the time. To probe. Reflect. Think.

As Americans, are we trying to show our superiority in the manner of a big stick? Have we become so arrogant that we have no cares as to how we are perceived? Do we not take the advice of others because the advice did not issue from our own lips? Do we not care for the needs of others, if the needs run counter to our own beliefs? Have we lost the patience to teach the belligerent toddler to walk?

Or, is it a complex. A need to demonstrate our perceived superiority. Another grasp at the brass ring. Or, a last gasp before fresh cream rises to the surface?
 
Time. To savor. To spend. To waste. To save. It is a concept to be used as we feel fit to do so. No one is right, no one is wrong. In many of the places we have been, it is difficult at best to do things in a manner they would be done in the States, Europe, Japan, or any number of other “developed” countries. I’ve seen people try. They tend to become unhappy and bitter. Impatient. In the places we have been, the people are interested in what we are doing. Where we came from. How do we like it here? It takes time. Questions are asked. Questions answered. Photographs are made. Email addresses exchanged. Invitations extended. New friends. Only one item on the “list” is accomplished that day, but it feels good. The smiles are a bit broader. The understanding runs a bit deeper. Often language can make transactions “difficult.” Patience. Creativity. There are ways around it. Often times an understanding stranger jumps in and helps. Sometimes they do, sometimes not. But always, the smiles become broader. The understanding deeper. Cultures have learned to blend their time differently from others, to their own needs. The ones that make the smiles a bit broader tend to be more agreeable to us.

Contrary to what some believe, this time spent has not been a vacation. It has been the most difficult, demanding thing I have ever done. And, the most rewarding. Meeting deadlines, managing teams and projects; yes, had their anxious moments. But not life threatening. Not the same sense of responsibility. Our planning, preparations, and skills have all minimized the risks to the point of having it feel there is no risk. But it’s there, always, just under the surface. The first few nights of any passage are spent playing the “what if” game. What if this line, shroud or stay parted? How about the rudder, the steering? What was that noise? Never heard it before. Get up, look around. When I finally get around to thinking of the partly submerged container, I usually get up for a glass of water and a peek at the chart. That one has no solution, its fate. Especially so at night. When moving around on deck, one is always aware which lines are fully loaded and what might happen if they parted. Steps are chosen carefully, tasks thought out in advance. I would hope Gene Kranz would be proud. The same is true at anchor. Is it set well? Sometimes it’s too deep to dive on and check. What is the bottom like? Has the anchor snagged something and will it only hold until the wind picks up or shifts? What if the chain wraps around a coral head, the wind shifts and there is now 15 miles of fetch, 4’ waves and the former haven of the coral reef once off our bow, is now a threatening demon, a boat length behind us? There are always solutions, but one needs to be paying attention, constantly. On one of our visits back to the States we spent an enjoyable night out with friends. Returning to their home in the wind and rain, I remarked, “Look; the house is just where we left it.” They looked at me with uncomprehending eyes.

There are no safety nets “out here.” Usually there are no tow trucks or repair shops. One must survive on wit, preparation and skill. There are so many cruising boats out here now, at worst there is usually the comforting voice on the SSB. Sometimes there is willing help nearby. It may take several days for it to arrive, but the help is given freely and with no expectations. This community of cruisers, by far, is the closest nit, most diverse, kindest, thoughtful (for the most part) community I have lived in. I will miss it.

I have been amazed at how many cruisers we have met that hated their previous life or jobs. They say they will never go back. Interestingly, many of those look to be just as unhappy “out here.” Then there are those, similar to us that really enjoyed their work, but wanted to take a break, and do something else. A different challenge - see some part of the world on their own terms. Some, like us, fell into jobs “out here,” not because we needed, but because again, is something different, a new experience. A way to see into a culture from another viewpoint. However, the new money always helps.

Upon hearing we were returning to the States a surprising number for fellow cruisers responded with, “that’s too bad, we don’t envy you in the least.” I don’t understand that at all. We have all shared amazing experiences and bonded during the tough times. We understand risk and adventure. What is not to like about rekindling old friendships, pen at the ready to write a new stanza on a fresh sheet of paper. New problems to be solved, old ones to be attacked from a fresh perspective. It’s going to be exhilarating; it’s going to be difficult. There will be love, sadness, the passing of family, perhaps even friends. Never boring.

It is going to be fun.

Back