The World is Round

“The world is truly round and seems to start and end with those we love.” — Nelson Mandela

Five years ago this week, I left my job, my city, my family and my friends.  In my departure memo, I said I was “going to sail around the world on my sail boat for a couple of years. Along the way, I hope to take some pictures, write some stories and start a family.”  Two out of three ain’t bad.

In fact, the last five years exceeded all my dreams and expectations.  I sailed nearly 40,000 nautical miles, all the way around the world, and got my 100 ton US Coast Guard captain’s license. I completed nearly 300 dives and got my PADI diver master certification. I visited nearly 30 countries and over 20 overseas territories. I sailed everything from styrofoam hobbie cats in the BVI, to a Hylas 54′ across three oceans, to a W 78′ up and down the east coast of the US. I climbed mountains and got lost in jungles. I fell in love with sharks.

In a small village deep in the jungle on a remote island in Panama, I held a young Ngäbe boy in my arms as I translated the British doctor’s diagnosis from English to Spanish for his indigenous, impoverished parents. On a remote beach on a remote island in Indonesia, I learned the names of every shell on the beach from a young Muslim girl who begged for books and cried when I handed over my travel mirror. In Zanzibar, I ran with a village full of barefoot boys wielding sticks shaped like guns. On a mountain deep in Tanzania, I placed my hand on the head of a young Maasai boy bowed before me in a tradition reserved for tribal elders. In each anchorage, on each dock, I met fellow sailors that inspired me, that educated me, that ran with me and practiced yoga with me, that made me laugh a little louder and love a little deeper.

Living on a boat in the sea is a profound way to learn about our earth, and all the destruction we are wreaking on it. Circumnavigating under sail is an intimate way to see the world, and all the people in need inhabiting it. The last five years have changed me irreversibly. My faith in humanity is restored. My sense of ambition is renewed. My love for our natural world is rejuvenated. But I walked away from it feeling like there is more to life than water.

In November I did one last passage, just in case. On my last nightwatch of the delivery, I was overwhelmed by a sense that I’ve left no unanswered questions at sea. I love the sea. I love long passages, heavy winds and big waves. I love being so far from land you stop looking for it on the horizon. The world is round, and if you set your sails, the wind will bring you right back to where you started. Been there, done that.

In this next phase of my life, I want to share my love of water with the people I love. I want to teach my niece to waterski; I want to learn to race from Paul and maybe get him to sail out of the sight of land with me; I want to write about protecting our precious water. And, if I am being totally honest, I want to be a lawyer again. I want to use my legal and language skills to help others achieve their goals and comply with the law.

I promise to keep sailing and diving and waterskiing and traveling, and taking pictures and writing stories; I hope you’ll keep reading.

“And the end of our exploring / Will be to arrive where we started / And know the place for the first time.” -T.S. Eliot