What Were We Thinking?
After sailing through the years, with its intrinsic amount of work, sleepless nights, storms that threatened to upend our boat, and frenetic moments, followed by uncountable hours of sheer boredom, we now only dreamt of sailing around Cape Horn; the Mecca for true sailors.
The lengthy days of preparations, seeing that every system in our ship worked and could sustain six months of sailing. The provisioning, the right charts, the insurance, the visas for every country we would sail to, the proper clothes, the proper shots, and the sleepless nights worrying about weather, currents, and possible hurricanes, hung on our minds like a trapeze artist dangling only by his fingers from his partner, swinging upside down.
The finances for such a trip would also include the cost of depreciation of a 40ft, fiberglass cutter, navigation and communication equipment, the extra refitting for such a trip with the adequate emergency raft and the food. At our age, there must be a better way.
Instead of the 40ft sailboat, we opted for a 400ft. liner called the MS Amsterdam from Holland America Lines. Instead of making endless checklists for supplies, and numerous trips to the market, we allowed ourselves to be treated royally by a staff of twelve Chefs, and no less than 800 very well dressed individuals that saw to every one of our whims. They served us gourmet meals while we sat in the luxurious dining room, picked up the dishes and washed them, while we sat watching a Las Vegas show, or danced to three orchestras, changed our bed and freshened our towels while we exercised in the huge gym or sat in one of the ample lounges reading.
While we slept, the ship
eased noiselessly into port. The only sheets we pulled, were the ones in the
comfortable king size bed. We raised no sails, we reefed none either, we did not
pump the bilge. We knew they had GPS, High Frequency Radio, radars for near or
far. They had weather reports constantly, bow and stern thrusters and azipods
on the stern and all the charts for every inch of sea covered. We did not shoot
the stars or take sights, yet someone with greater knowledge was taking care of
it. We plotted no courses, but managed to enter and leave port and intricate
bays and narrow fjords with ease. We did not ration water; instead we drank a lot of it mixed
with high content alcoholic beverages. We slept and did not stand watch.
For
some unique reason we did not heel, either to port or starboard. We went ashore
often and managed to take excursions to interesting places in countries like
Mexico, Costa Rica, Ecuador, Peru, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay and Brazil. We had time to
study the history and people in little known cities: Puerto Arena, Quayaquil,
Callao, Pisco, Coqimbo, Val Paraiso, etc. Most of the time, we sat staring at
the vast Pacific Ocean and trying to fathom the greatness and depth of the water
we were skimming over.
Best of all we did this in 40 days instead of 200. We dressed in elegant attire; never once used foul weather gear. We exercised with bicycles and treadmills which came in handy to overcome the syndrome of over indulgence.
We never worried about pirates, with the exception of the ship’s bar people who insisted in charging exorbitant prices for drinks. When someone announced: All hands on deck, they meant, lunch was ready. It would have been easier to say: All butts to the restaurant. We never worried about docking or going ashore and seeing that the ship was well anchored, secure and safe from petty thievery. Our dingy was big and had two engines.
Alright, you might say we missed the challenge, the solitude, the intermingling with nature, the nearness of God. You might be right, but at an age that threatens to come to a swift end (we all want to go to Heaven; but not today), we feel that once in a while we need to pamper ourselves. That there are very few springs left, that you do not have to prove to yourself that you are not soft, and more important: "All that you danced, who can take that away?" We recommend it, and Happy Sailing.