The Expeditioner

Looking through an old pamphlet titled Marina Tiare Sailing Expeditions is what first caught my eye and just underneath —Come sail the South Pacific Chile or Antartica.

She sat near me perched in her seat (now in her seventies) as I curiously poured through some of the information. As I scanned over the pages, she quietly told me that she had years of sailing experience before she took the Marina Tiare sailing expedition, but that she had been hurt by someone at that time, and she thought the voyage would help her through the pain. As I listened to more of the details, it made me understand how much she must have wanted to heal, and gave herself the opportunity to explore the world around her. Twenty days of sailing across the Pacific Ocean. 

I looked back down at the aged brochure seeing a few sentences like— gaining offshore experience, practical coastal and celestial navigation. I turned the page reading over more about the captain - John Neal and his hands on ocean cruising experiences. Come Sail to some of the most unusual destinations on earth. Go to unusual places like Capehorn, the fjords of Chile, Pitcain and Easter Island.

I glanced at my aunt with a twinge of envy. This hadn't been just a trip —it had been an expedition. It hadn't been a vacation or a sailing excursion. She had taken the opportunity to be actively involved in all aspects of a modern ocean sail boat, including steering and standing watches, assisting in seal changes, anchoring, provisioning, meal preparation and cleaning.

Physical ability and health were also a key factor but you can't always predict what's going to happen. Certainly not broken ribs but just two weeks into the trip there was a bad storm and my aunt — although in good shape at the time had broken two ribs. It took a wave, a gust of wind for the accident to happen. Not very well anchored, she fell down and violently hit something on the deck. Violent chest pain. She told me Captain Neal was not too pleased with her accident, but fractured ribs are not major medical risk, and Motrin did the trick although she wrapped her ribs well, and spend some time avoiding shocks to say the least. After a few days, she informed me she was more able to participate in the ship's duties.

Roaming through the pictures further impressed upon me that a trip is one thing but a taking on voyage like that was just plain gutsy, and what's more is she went alone, not knowing any of the other crew members before she left home. 

"There's no training for crew or passengers, strictly speaking," she said quietly, "you discover people at sea." I thought about that statement plus the part where she cracked two ribs during a storm and how painful that must have been. It was clear to me an expedition is about working well together in a variety of dangerous situations— many of them strenuous and demanding through rugged conditions. I wondered as I looked at her expedition photos, if she had also healed herself from her past painful memories?

She had also kept the detailed weather logs which I found short and pleasant like; Later part of the day, very hot water and calm. No wind. Some wind. Saw dolphins. Firsts part a fresh breeze, later more moderate. Clear skies with stars. Storm approaching....

As talked to her more about the adventure, she was reluctant to many details about the old relationship, except to mention he had chosen another woman to marry even though he loved her. And that the woman he had chosen to marry, had been younger, and from a more affluent family. I nodded and sympathised with her and later reflected a little about rebounds. I could only think that maybe the cliche's are true that greatness is born outside of comfort zones, and maybe strength is thrust upon us when being strong is our only option. 

She put the book away and I reflected more about her expedition for a time. The purposes, the benefits, the reasons, and even some of the secrets. But most of all I simply felt a sense of wonder and admiration for her, and hoped I might take an expedition too someday. I have a bit of wanderlust myself and I've traveled to different parts of the USA, Canada, Mexico, parts of the Caribbean, Europe and more recently to Egypt. I had booked a trip to Bali a couple years ago as well, but had to cancel plans due to Covid. Bali had been my chance to check a few more continents off the list, but even so it made me think of expeditions and what they mean because I'm not the type to go on holiday to rest, I'm the type who goes on holiday to explore. I actually dream of dog sled trips up to the Ice Hotel in Sweden or climbing around ruins somewhere—not exactly vacations. In addition my protagonists are about women who bravely take on journeys into the unknown, so I've come to the conclusion that I'm an explorer at heart. Maybe it runs in the family because I have a cousin who recently embarked on a personal expedition on his motorcycle, traveling from Alaska to the southern tip of Chile. 

I recently picked up a book by Anne Dillard titled For The Time Being and inside the first few pages she writes: The legend of the Traveler appears in every civilisation, perpetually assuming new forms, affections, powers, and symbols. Through every age he walks in utter solitude toward penance and redemption. She also speaks of an explorer; His eyes were filled with intelligence and understanding. A man of self-effacing and irresistible distinction, as simple in his gestures as his manners. His smile near quite turned to laughter. Anxious to welcome, but like a rock of marble...

I'll conclude this by mentioning a famous poem called The Listeners by Walter de la Mare. Inside the poem he describes the actions of a Traveller who knocks at the door of a seemingly deserted home at night. If you've read it, it seems there are “ghosts” within the empty home who “listen” to the Traveller. He calls out a number of strange phrases that add to the mystery of the poem, and then finally leaves without an answer. The poem itself is unknowable, and De la Mare creates a deeply strange landscape and the traveler is forced to navigate this world on his own.

I sort of wonder where he goes from there, and would like to follow him further.But then again, expeditions might be less about destinations, and more about the wonders of the voyage itself. 

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