and folk frequently ask me why we’re doing this. “Why are you sailing around the world?” This is a loaded question and not so easy to answer without taking a ton of time and even then I always answer it differently- which means I probably haven’t figured it out myself. It is not unlike “what is the meaning of life?” or “what do you want to be when you grow up?” (I actually can answer the former. As Joseph Campbell said- “there is no meaning. Life only has meaning by what we bring to it.” Agreed. The latter I can’t answer because I don’t want to grow up). So…why do I want to sail around the world?

First of all, actually sailing AROUND the world has little appeal. If we get around so be it. But like climbing a mountain (Why? Because it’s there…) I think it is more important to enjoy the journey than to obtain the goal. That’s all fine and good and sounds pretty intelligent, but then it’s also a bit of hooey. Everyone wants to enjoy the journey, but there’s a heck of a lot of routine to daily life no matter where you’re living that can be pretty tough to get excited about. OK, so there isn’t a lot of routine when it comes to sailing, but its not all margaritas and surf out here either. So the journey gets its place on the list, but we need more.

How about adventure? Yes, that’s it- for the adventure. Now we’re standing on a bit firmer ground, but then again going from one adventure to another can be incredibly fun, even rewarding, but as a credence to live by? Not sure. As Helen Keller said, “life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.” Agreed. But there’s still something missing. There is a list a mile long of mountain climbers who’ve led incredibly adventurous lives until their untimely death- often leaving behind families that I bet wish they would have toned it down a bit. I used to have a macho outlook on living a life of adventure, saying such mature things as, “well, if I die doing this I’ll die doing something I love.” It wasn’t long ago that I was kayaking a very steep, previously un-run and heinous river in Mexico living by that very credo when I was pinned in a waterfall without air for a very long time. At some point long after I should have been dead I cut a deal with that little inner voice that regularly called me an idiot for getting myself into these situations. The deal was- if I somehow got out of this and was allowed to live I’d go forward in life appreciating it a good deal more. Which meant two things: 1) I would have to stay alive, and 2) find things other than adrenaline to appreciate.

How about culture? I say that all the time. “We’re out here to explore other cultures.” That sounds good too, but the reality of visiting 3rd world countries in a luxury sailboat presents not a few barriers to really experiencing how the locals live and living with them. That’s like driving through Yellowstone and seeing a Grizzly through a plate glass automobile window and saying “we’ve done Yellowstone.” Not exactly the full experience. How can the locals in any other way perceive us than white and rich when we sail into their village? They can’t. White and rich has not necessarily had grand results for any indigenous culture in the world. There’s a lot more to explore in that political bomb of a sentence, but let’s move on.

Luke, Gavin and Jody after our discussion- and a few too many beers!

Luke, a friend of ours who’s been sailing with us for the past 6 weeks in Fiji is contemplating sailing around South America and in so doing rounding the infamous Cape Horn. This is not an endeavor to be taken lightly, so we’ve been discussing the various aspects of insanity one needs to tackle before heading off into the wild- the potentially very wild. Luke is currently faced with what he views as two options: 1) return to a very lucrative but unrewarding (his words) job as a stock trader or, 2) sail around the Horn. As in all life’s choices, one weighs the plusses and minuses through a combination of previous experience and the input of trusted peers and hopefully the right decision is made. In Luke’s case, I did what I could to cloud the water by saying this: “traveling is the most selfish thing we can do with our time. You aren’t contributing to a community. You aren’t contributing to a cause other than your own. It’s easy and indulgent and it serves very little else than our own ego.” Luke looked at me in shock, expecting to hear all the reasons why he should go, not a diatribe of what most of the world dreams of doing with their spare time. He then wisely asked me the question I haven’t been able to answer in the previous 4 paragraphs. “Well then why do you do it?”

I mumbled something about exploration, adventure, culture, challenge. All true, all part of the “journey”. And all wrote answers that come easily because they’re what people expect to hear. And therefore crap. But I’ve had a few days to think about it and I now have the answer that’s taken me the better part of 5 years and pages of writing in journals to figure out. Because this is the most dynamic way to live I know and I’m a neophyte at living it. Every time I look at a weather synopsis I’m stunned at how little I still know. Each time we sail I see something new in the rigging and sails that affects how fast we move. With every spoken word to my crew I realize the weaknesses in my teaching and the weaknesses in myself. I’m not sailing to master the ocean, for she is untamable and mastering anything is preposterous, but while there remains this much to learn I am thrilled to give it a try.

This week back home in Seattle my sister burst her appendix and my mom got bashed up badly on her bike while we were on the other side of the world drinking kava and playing volleyball with a bunch of villagers in the northern Lau group. We had a terrific time and I was oblivious to the pain being suffered by two of my favorite people on the planet and two people I love very much. My place was clearly not in Fiji, but with my family. It’s easy to get used to being so out of touch out here, easy to get complacent about answering those tough questions. Easy to parade opinions about the world’s affairs and our place in it and how laughable it is to live a stable life on land, going to work every day week after week month after month year after year and never really live. But that’s because that’s the community we’re in and that’s the conversation du jour. Easy to ruminate like Plato when in fact you’re espousing all the wisdom of a Potato.

Musket Cove, Fiji. August 2004