Confession: Despite the months & miles we’ve had on Brio, sometimes it’s still a little scary to go sailing. Not the actual sailing part, mind you — that part I’m okay with — but the get-off-the-dock, maneouver-out-of-the-tight-marina bits. Those get my blood pumping and heart racing like nothing else.
But Saturday dawned a picture-perfect sailing day… 10 knots of breeze, clear blue skies, a sparkly bay just *calling* our names… there was no way we couldn’t go. Docking be damned.
While the whole state of Maine seemed to have the same idea (literally don’t think I’ve ever seen SO many boats out sailing!!), one huge advantage for us is that Mainers seem to be afraid of anchoring. Or if not afraid, just not inclined towards it. So we had a glorious downwind sail and then dropped the hook a little ways up Casco Bay, just a mile or two from a mooring field with hundreds of boats tied up…. and had not a neighbour in sight. #heaven
This of course was the cue for a giant thunderstorm to come and POUR on us all night long and into Sunday… but that was a chance for Jon to try out his new foul weather gear, so it was okay too. There’s nothing quite like waking up to soft rain pattering on the hatch, the smell of coffee and bacon drifting over from the galley, a warm bed to cuddle up in, and just the guy you picked for life to share it with.
In fact, all was pretty much perfect until we got back to DiMillos. Then I performed one of my absolute worst docking jobs in recent memory, and literally drove Brio *smack* into a piling. Oops.
Not what I’d intended. Exactly what I’d been heart-pounding-worrying-about 😉
The great thing about screwing up docking though — or most things boat-related, for that matter — is that so long as you’re going kind of slow and can survive a little embarrassment, there’s really no harm done. A kind neighbour came running, Jon performed some he-man-manoeuvers, I drove the boat into the dock a few more times, and then it was all over and we were tied up and back in our slip. Done, complete, lesson learned.
But that fear of screwing up — the fear of doing a crap job of docking or departing, or navigating or sailing — that’s the same fear that could keep us glued to the dock. I think it’s probably the same fear that keeps dreamers stuck dreaming while others are out there doing.
So sometimes I just have to stuff the scared little girl in a corner, remind her that screwing up is a natural part of learning and living, and then hit a piling or two just to prove my point.