“Queeg” – affectionate slang term for a ship’s captain.
“First Mate” – crew member necessary for skippers to practice shouting instructions to.
Hi Y’all,
This is GinaBalena, back to writing about our adventures in the Sea of Cortez after a long winter’s hibernation. I’ve spiced up the blog this year by adding humorous definitions from “A Sailor’s Dictionary” as well as pictures. We’re happy to be back on the open water again after four long months in the harbor at Santa Rosalia. We made a lot of boat repairs and new friends there and had a wonderful visit with our families during the Christmas holidays.
I’d like to celebrate the leap year by sharing a personal leap forward I made two weeks ago. A little background information first. For years I’ve struggled with a tendency to do too much busywork. Randy teases me about being a human DOING rather than a human BEING. I think it has to do with feeling unworthy unless I’m doing something useful. Well, I overcame the habit big time due in part to a conflict with Randy. Soul mates are great for that sort of thing! I’ve observed that it’s pretty common for male captains to yell at their first mates (be they male or female) during stressful situations and Randy is no exception. Anchoring, docking and dinghy landings ashore seem to morph him into Captain Queeg. He always gets his good humor back quickly, but I’m left feeling humiliated and angry for a long time.
In Conception Bay we had one of these incidents during a dinghy landing in tricky surf conditions. I couldn’t shake my resentment all day. Why do I take his yelling so personally? I decided something in me had to change (I’ve given up trying to change him!) We talked it over that night and it became clear we each had a different picture in our minds concerning our joint landing procedure. When we’re on our own we do it differently: I tend to hop off and pull the dinghy ashore, Randy likes to push it ashore using the oars as poles. Both ways work, they’re just different. A little light went off in my head and I realized there are many ways to accomplish the same task. One way is not better than another and ONE PERSON IS NOT BETTER THAN ANOTHER, just different. Years of feeling inferior because I didn’t think like a man evaporated in the light of this profound realization. Being in the same boat of course, means we need to coordinate our efforts and find ways of doing things that work for both of us. I find that coming from a place of equality makes all the difference in the world in our communications.
The next day I had an altered state sort of vision as I awoke from a nap. I saw what looked like a can of beans sending out brilliant rays of light. The little can was stacked among many similar cans which were not lit up. Energy poured into my left eye as I watched and I got tingles all over. As I became fully awake, I started to laugh at the humor of my inner wisdom. The message seemed to be that like the can of BEANS, I’ve become a fully actualized human BEING at last. I no longer have to DO anything to prove my worth. I’m fine just as I am and that beingness radiates from me like a light. (Either that or I’m full of beans!)
My bright new attitude was put to the acid test yesterday. A thirty foot trimaran broke free from it’s anchorage and was blown toward shore. Randy and I jumped in the dinghy and raced across El Burro Cove to help with the rescue operation. A neighbor of the absent owner had thrown one of the trimaran’s anchors overboard just in time to stop it from going ashore. We decided to bring over our spare anchor, drop it in deeper water and attempt to pull the trimaran farther offshore. The waves were steep and the dinghy hard to control, so Captain Queeg came out in full force as people gathered on shore to watch. The verbal onslaught went in one ear and out the other as I simply did the best I could to steer the dinghy’s bucking bow into the waves as Randy dropped the anchor off the stern. Our efforts stabilized the tri and later in the day a panga fisherman towed it back to it’s usual anchorage and returned our anchor. We learned this happens every year to the guano-covered boat. I was as pleased with my inner calm as I was with the outer success of our adventure. Like the picture of El Burro Cove at sunrise, when the inner waters are calm, the outer world is reflected with a beautiful clarity.
With love,
The Vagabundos
