Assimilating Fear
It’s only seven miles from Kos to Turgutreis.
We left Kos, Greece for Turgutreis, Turkey on a Monday morning. The wind was moderate and we only had a one hour transit to the marina where we had arranged to check-in. This would be new to us as we had entered Greece with the help of a prearranged agent while our Turkish captain was still onboard. This time we were in charge.
As we approached Turkish waters things got a little intense. We were rolling about in very confused seas, about 20 minutes into the passage, when I was propelled out of complacency. We started hearing a brand new, extremely loud, crashing and banging noise. It was not a good sound. It seemed to occur as we dove in and out of the waves. Tom was at the helm, so I put on a life jacket (for the first time aboard Meraki), opened the back door, and managed to climb part way up the ladder to the roof and open the hatch. I held on for dear life, stood and watched and waited.
Checking that everything is in place, including the dinghy, is part of our daily checklist so we had already examined it. It seemed unlikely the dinghy was the cause of the resounding thunderous noise, but to my surprise, as we rolled off a wave, I saw the entire tender lurch backward, its motor hanging well beyond the edge of the roof! It looked to me like it might flip right over and careen into the sea behind us. By now the adrenaline was racing through me.
I scrambled back down and explained the situation to Tom whereby he slowed Meraki to an idle and we switched positions. Without the engines moving us along we were tossed about even more violently. While I tried, at the helm, to keep us pointing into the roaring wind, Tom donned his lifejacket and climbed onto the roof to lash down the dinghy. My heart began racing as I held, white knuckled, onto the wheel. That’s when my mind got away from me. What if Tom were thrown off the roof? Would I even know he was no longer onboard? Do I remember how to do a man-overboard drill? Could I do it alone? Would I even be able to see him in the crazy churning water? Should I call a Mayday? Do I remember the proper procedure for doing so? All of these terrifying thoughts swam through my mind….I tried to remain calm, do my job and wait.
I threw open the helm door in the hopes of hearing Tom moving around overhead. Before long I turned and saw his legs descending the ladder. Holy crap! A flood of relief surged through me. He had tied the bow of the dinghy to the mast and the horrible bashing quieted. We continued on, made it to Turkey, got ourselves checked-in, and tied up in the marina.
I have never been happier to see a marina!
Fear is a complex thing. How we sense and respond to it is different for everyone. To be honest, I’m not the person who loves horror films. I don’t sit rapt with attention. I’m the person who covers their eyes when scenes get too intense. It took a long time for the adrenaline to subside after that experience. I did some deep breathing and then took a nap. Even after I awoke I felt mentally exhausted. It was similar to that brain-fried feeling I used to get after long hours spent studying for final exams. I can’t remember when I last, if ever, felt that kind of major adrenaline rush. I also think the sheer fact of learning something new EVERY, SINGLE, DAY - which can be exhilarating and bring a sense of accomplishment, can also completely, and utterly wear a person out! I’m certain there is a cumulative effect. For me, that means I need a day of shore time, talking to friends and family, cooking, hanging out and relaxing.
As it turned out, stormy weather came in and we had to stay in the marina in Turgutreis for three days! Exactly what I needed. I recalibrated; walked to all the grocery stores in the area (a favorite pastime) and reprovisioned, cooked, did the laundry, went out for dinner, frequented Starbucks, began passage planning for the next destination, and repeated the “Safety and Rescue at Sea"‘ coursework!
A lot can happen in the course of an hour. Needless to say, I have thought A LOT about that experience since that day. I don’t like being unsure of myself, feeling I might fail. I tend to shy away from feeling vulnerable. The risk feels too high. Plus, fear can be paralyzing. It’s so easy to let my nerves get the best of me if I let my thoughts run wild. My mind moves into the future and it projects all the ways that I could screw up, do something stupid, get hurt or hurt someone else. I get ahead of myself, and this takes me out of the present moment. That is not something I can afford. I need to remain focused at all times while underway.
It is good that we are hardwired to respond to fear, whether real or perceived. So, while it can be annoying when I’m just trying to get through those shadowy movie scenes, the flight or fight response could literally be the difference between life and death in a truly dangerous situation. Fear is a very powerful emotion. It can increase my heart rate and blood pressure, accelerate my breathing, and it can also hyperfocus my attention.
The lesson is in learning to embrace and harness the fear. To reign in my thoughts when my mind starts running wild. To recognize that courage and fear go hand in hand. I don’t know that this life will get easier or more forgiving, but I trust that I will become more resilient. I chose this lifestyle and - I’M LOVING IT! So at the end of the day, while learning new things can be stressful and fear inducing, humbling and exhausting, the rewards - when I get through to the other side, far outweigh the risks.