When I was a child, I spent my summers on a sail boat. My parents got a boat when I was very little, and neither of them were sailors, but they loved the sea and they learned as they went along.
There were many times they learned hard lessons along the way, but eventually they both became seasoned salts and felt confident in their abilities to navigate the seas.
My father was a good captain and my mother was his first mate. She was expert at trimming the sails and maintaining the vessel, while my father’s forte was charting and steering our course.
Every summer, we would plan a 2-week cruise with other sailing families and away we would go on a beautiful summer adventure up the coast of New England.
One year, we encountered bad weather and had to stay at anchor for a few days. After two days in port, the captains got together and evaluated the weather report. They decided to take a chance, and set out in the evening to cross Long Island Sound in order to make up some distance on our trip.
Most of the captains lacked experience in night sailing, and my father was uncomfortable with the plan. Since the entire group was committed to going, he chose to continue on with them, instead of separating from the group, even though he had misgivings. Did I mention that my dad is an empath? It runs in the family.
We weighed anchor at dusk and set out into the channel. As soon as we set sail, in the dwindling light, the fog rolled in as thick as pea soup.
All the captains were in contact via radio, and they decided to continue on into the night, following the plan they had set.
In the fog, each vessel raises a radar reflector so larger vessels can detect the smaller ones in limited visibility. As we proceeded, we could hear loud fog horns warning of approaching ships.
Many sailors became scared and some went off course, even turning completely around in the fog. They got to a point where they did not know what to do, and called out on the radio for assistance.
At this point, my father asked my mother to take the helm and he pulled out his charts, a ruler and a pencil. He plotted a new course, to a small island in the middle of the sound, where there was shallow enough water for us to anchor and wait for dawn.
He drew the new line on the chart, noted the compass heading and turned on the depth sounder. This machine tells you how deep the water is below the vessel.
He asked me, at age 12, to call out the depths every minute. He asked my sister, at age 10, to match the depth on the chart to the depth on the sounder, and check them off along the plotted line on the map.
Even though we were two young and frightened children, he had faith in us and asked us to serve responsibly in the situation.
He got on the radio and told every vessel the compass heading and his plan. He asked the other captains to trust his judgement and proceed with the group, or turn back to return to our starting port.
He gave them each a choice, so they could follow their own guidance in this difficult situation. Some captains made the choice to turn back, but many joined the armada forward through the dark fog.
It seemed like time had turned to tar as we made our way forward through the night, but with each depth noted and confirmed, our confidence grew in the plan and in our father.
Eventually, the depths became shallower and then we heard a sweet sound. We could hear gulls calling in great numbers, and what appeared to be waves crashing on a bulkhead. We knew we were approaching the island.
We put down our anchor when the depth was shallow enough and made the boat fast. We all fell into an exhausted sleep, knowing we had made it to a safe spot, even though we were still far from port.
In the morning we woke to white fog and grey water in all directions. We could faintly make out the other boats in our group, and we could hear the gulls close by.
As we ate breakfast in our foul weather gear, the sun began to burn off the fog. We finally saw the tiny island at a close distance and we each thanked the heavens silently for getting us there safely.
Eventually the weather cleared into a crystal day, and we set sail for the next port on our trip. When we arrived, all the other captains thanked my dad for his quick thinking, and I could sense that they all held him in a greater respect from that day forward.
(Continued in Part 2)