The Joy of Reaching Land – Sailing the Indian Ocean

We stopped at five islands as we sailed across the Indian Ocean – Ashmore Reef, Christmas Island, Cocos Keeling, Mauritius and Reunion – and after weeks of bobbing in the Indian Ocean, the excitement to be approaching land was always anticipated long before we arrived.

Birds were always the first sign we were nearing land. They left in the morning on fishing trips and returned to their nests in the evening. They represented the hot showers, fresh food (NOT fish!), and Wi-Fi we would soon enjoy. Ant would be drooling at the prospect of a cold beer while Wyn would have compiled a lengthy ‘to do’ list of necessary repairs. I would be struggling to focus on reading or writing, and instead endlessly checking the horizon, restless for that first glimpse of land.

We never mentioned it, but I’m sure we all looked forward to a few days away from crew-mates. No matter how well you get along, a boat is a cramped and intense environment. After five days it felt crowded, and by Day 15 I wanted to kill them. 24 hours a day, I lived within five metres of them. I had become familiar – too familiar - with someone peeing over the side of the boat while I finished dinner, with showering in full view of the world, and of balancing different music genres to maintain diplomacy.

Even more than privacy, I relished the thought that the ground would be stable. I had never appreciated how wonderful it is to cook a meal without the plates sliding around, the potatoes rolling onto the floor for the fourth time and the food sloshing out the pan and down the side of the oven. I remember cooking curry, holding the pan over the flame, tilting it with the rhythms of the sea.

It’s not just cooking. At sea the simplest tasks become chores of epic proportions for the individual, and a hilarious spectacle worthy of a TV show for the casual observer. I can almost hear the loud, over-exuberant American commentator and the enthusiastic canned laughter;

And here Josiah tries to sweep the floor. He has adopted a confident, wide-leg stance and grips the table firmly with his left hand. But oh, he didn’t see that wave coming, that’s unbalanced him. And here’s another wave, OOOOH, he trips over the bucket! He steps left to regain his balance but slams into the hand rail with his groin! That’s gotta hurt!!! Did you see his arms flail and release the broom which flew and whacked Anthony on his head. Look at them now, both sprawled in a heap on the floor. Hilarious! Did you see the look on their faces?! HAHAHA! You’ve gotta admire that performance and yet another beautiful wipeout!

Arriving on land I found my senses heightened, as though I was smelling, seeing, tasting, and hearing for the first time. Food tasted better than ever before. The smells were stronger.

And the girls more beautiful. While having dinner on the first evening in Mauritius, I asked Ant if he thought the waitress was the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He said I had just been at sea too long. I decided he was probably right, but I still exaggerated my laughter a little hoping I might catch her attention.

Before I sailed, I had imagined it to be quiet, like flying on the breath of the wind. But the sails flap, the ropes creak, the winds whooshes, and the water roars against the hull and explodes against the side. These noises are incessant and quickly become background noise which your mind ignores. It was only when we anchored in a harbour or moored on a marina, that I appreciated how noisy it had been, and the silence and stillness became overwhelming. If we heard any water at all, it was the peaceful whirrs of water lapping against the side like a trickling stream. I felt the pace of life slow down.

I enjoy going to sea. It is challenging. It is meditation. Some days it is relaxing, other days it is terrifying. But I enjoy going to sea most, because when I return to land, I have new eyes and senses to appreciate how beautiful land is.