So, I'm a solo sailor. If you don't know what that is, it's basically a small community of people who sail boats on their own "solo" and yeah that's basically the gist of it.
I know a few others who do this and we communicate regularly when we're in port. There's some great youtubers who do it and document their journeys if you're interested.
I'm fairly new to the hobby and recently I just completed my longest sail yet. I did the two week sail from San Fran to Hawaii. It's kind of a milestone for people of the hobby.
I had been prepping for months for this trip and finally conditions were ideal so I did it. For the most part everything was "smooth sailing" lol. No storms or sea tornadoes, nothing like that.
However, there is something disturbing about the sea at night. If you've never been out on the ocean it's hard to describe.
It's like a valley of rolling hills that spreads forever in every direction all around you. Your brain has a hard time comprehending the fast, endless amount of water before you.
And to think about how far it extends downward, that's just downright terrifying.
So, there I am. Fresh face. All excited to get my adventure underway. The first few days are the usual. Hangout on deck.
I try to maintain at least 15 knots to keep on track with my planned course schedule. Somehow, when you're out there time always seems to slow down.
Days feel twice as long and nights twice as long as that. To make matters worse the ocean knows you aren't supposed to be out there.
And I don't mean I'm breaking any type of law, I mean when you're out there you're defying the natural order.
The ocean knows you're a human and humans don't swim this far out and definitely not alone.
The sea, being aware of the disturbance, starts to call to you in the night. I try to stay below decks but the low howl becomes too much sometimes and draws me out.
You look out at that single ray of moonlight illuminating the ever expanding unclaimed territory before you and it takes every ounce of willpower not to talk clean off the deck and go join it
in its eternal blackness. The ocean knows you, the ocean calls to you. From one sailor to another, before you go out on your own make sure you have the mental fortitude to resist that call.
I wish this was some old fisherman's tale, but unfortunately it is very very very real. When it's just you out there the temptation to listen to the ocean calling is like gravity.
Its magnetic. Its a force that calls you to it. I don't know exactly where it comes from.
It may be the depths of the ocean or perhaps the accumulation of billions upon billions of gallons of water.
All I know is that I don't want to ever be so overcome with temptation that I learn of it origins shorty before I perish.