It must be impossible for any reader of this blog to miss the fact that a big part of cruising are the fellow cruisers you meet. I, like many others, read other blogs prior to setting off as part of my research so I knew this would happen but didn’t fully appreciate how different this relationship forming would be to my normal life. And I’m not just talking about the sheer number of sundowners imbibed, even though this is a lot of fun in of itself.
I’ve often thought about why these relationships are so different and as ever I have come up with a number of factors :
There is a phrase ‘Your friends are not the people you like the most, they are simply the ones that got their first.‘ It is an interesting observation and it sort of applies to land life. I don’t think I was ever concious of this while on land but I believe we had developed behaviours which recognised this. Particularly considering how busy we all are on land, we develop this whole layered approach to relationship forming because once let into our personal space it’s difficult (and often simply not desirable) to let go of people. This is very much driven by the fact that our neighbours at home stay where they are, the people at work are usually there the next day as are the folks in our clubs, groups, etc.
While cruising it is the exact opposite. You may never meet your current neighbour again. There is therefore very little downside in opening up with folks you meet.
I discovered the ‘social layers’ we acquired on land made us all less interesting as well as less approachable. Stripped of these layers you really find out about each other quite quickly and discover and develop friendships that may never have been previously possible.
Then there’s the people you meet. Anyone who chooses to set off across the seas with nothing between them and the depths bar a thin piece of wood, plastic, metal or perhaps banana leaf is going to be a little different from the typical person you get to know ashore. I’ve often felt we all have something extra going on as well as something missing. Some of the younger folks who crossed the Pacific on a shoestring have an incredible spirit. The ‘retirees’ have all lead fascinating lives to reach the point where cruising is possible. The ‘kid boats’, ie those with home schooled children aboard, are simply amazing. It goes on. We are all ‘missing’ something that holds us to one spot which allows us to face the challenges of adventure. To a certain extent this is true of anyone you meet in life but these qualities are often harder to reveal in those ‘stuck’ ashore.
Then of course there is the shared experience. We are all out there facing the elements, the thrills, the challenges, the fears together. We help each other out. We support each other. We share notes on where we’ve been and where we’re going. We have our sundowners. We share the moments we have together.
The cruising life allows you to get very close to a lot of people. You develop friendships that are incredibly special.
All of the above became amplified during our Pacific crossing. Perhaps, by then, we had matured as cruisers. A lot of it, I think, is that those mad enough to cross the Pacific are a special subset of a special subset of people.
I have meant to share my thoughts on this for some time but I’m doing this now for two reasons. The first is we got back in touch with our friends John and Cheryl on Sea Mist yesterday having been out of contact with each other, really, since we saw them sail over the horizon out of Fiji last year. We had a long Skype call which was really quite emotional. I confess I broke down when the call ended.
I’m not singling them out as such but it is an real example of the type of friendships that form in these circumstances. We’re so glad to be back in touch.
The second reason is that while all of the above is true for me, I am aware that cruising is not the only way to form such close bonds with people. As our life’s adventure now moves into uncharted (for us) seas we are discovering much the same in this new phase of our adventure. Our stay here in Melbourne has resulted in a very close bond with the family here. We’ve shared a common passage, supported each other (in this case, Helen and I have received most of the support) and, yes, we’ve had our sundowners.
Having made such close friends it’s therefore important to stay in touch and that we endeavour to do.
And this brings me back to another reason for bringing all this out now. The poll I put out yesterday is so far unanimous and I am surprised by the number of votes (25 votes is not a lot compared to other polls but it’s more than I expected – keep voting) and touched by the comments. It reminds me how important the blog is to all these close friends but also for the unseen travellers coming along with us. It is touching to know that our story is seen as a single adventure than just a trip on a boat and that folks out there who we’ve never met (yet to meet?) care.
So rest assured I will keep this blog going and not move off elsewhere. I’ll be using the blog, at least, to stay in touch with you all. Changing the name is an idea I am considering. The boat name Dignity came from the song of the same name which at one level, as I’ve explained before, talks about working hard to accomplish a sailing dream. At another level it’s about living your life with dignity which is now particularly apt. So I won’t be changing the name much, if at all. I need to think about this.
I will say that if you google “Dignity” you will find a bunch of websites about dying with dignity. As I have no intention of dying just yet, that connection is not relevant.
Where we can we’ll endeavour to stay in touch more personally. Next weekend we’re off to see our friends Brian & Janine and their ‘kids’ Ben and Holly over the other side of Melbourne. We shared a couple of special weeks with them all aboard Dignity and they’ve been supporting us with the loan of their car. We’re very much looking forward to sharing an anchorage with them again for a few days.
