Short, steep, isolated waves caused by local winds—giving a small boat an uncomfortable action.
I’m sitting here on my couch, an exhausted mess from the chaos of May. Between everything I mentioned in my last post—the birthdays, the house, the boats, the renewal—and just the everyday responsibilities like work and food shopping, this girl is spent.
I mean hair standing up, two mismatched socks, eating off a paper plate so I don’t have to wash a dish, spent. I was holding a good stride through the madness… until I did what every cocky sailor has done at the end of a race: I threw in one last tack to finish strong—and it just about capsized me.
I went to NYC for a meeting and decided to stay the night to celebrate our anniversary and relax. Rookie move. Why? Because if you’ve ever experienced the best of the City, you know the city that never sleeps doesn’t let you sleep either. Or walk slowly.
For a girl who loves her time anchored quietly, this lifestyle was total sensory overload. Instead of a distant lighthouse or the occasional echo of a bell, there were blaring horns. Instead of gliding across calm water to the gentle whoosh of sails, it was a sprint across busy streets, dodging people.
But that’s city life. Vibrant. Always in motion. A symphony of sounds, from voices to car horns. Even grabbing a bite to eat is overwhelming with so many choices.
What I realized, slumped down in my train seat on the way back home, was this…
Boating may offer quiet—but it can still bring chaos. Ocean swells replace crowds. Submerged rocks and debris are your traffic jams. The strangers you meet in port are from all walks of life, just like the city. It’s just that, when you’re used to water instead of pavement, it all feels overwhelming. I imagine it’d be the same if a lifelong city dweller was plunked on a boat. The quiet would be what rattled them.
So I’ll end with this little pearl of wisdom that came to me after a day or so of decompression: While it’s nice to have our own slice of nirvana—our safe and comfortable places—we have to step outside our comfort zones, explore new places, and embrace new experiences.
Now, I’m going to wrap this up. I’ll be Googling recipes to recreate the amazing meal I had in NYC (to be shared soon in Ports of Call), and pouring a nice glass of red wine while I marvel at how it’s the end of May—and I’ve still got the heat and fireplace going.
Fingers crossed the next post comes to you from a boat.
