Wondering Where the Lions Are

Sailing Memories of 2014

A short YouTube video of some of my best moments on Gemara

With the end of 2014 not far off I've been reflecting on another year of sailing.  It's been a great year for it;  I took a package from my employer in early spring and allowed myself the summer off to sail and recharge my batteries.  As an added bonus 2014 was one of the finest summers I can recall in Vancouver.  As you might imagine, Ge'Mara had plenty of use across the year.

One of the best decisions I made this year was learning to single-hand.  As I described in an earlier post, single-handing is a freeing experience.  Being single and off work, this turned out to be a big advantage, culminating in a fantastic sail to the Gulf Islands that I also wrote about earlier.

Waking up in Clam Bay on my first single-handed trip

With that said, Ge'Mara's most notable trips this year were naturally with my sailing buddy and boat partner David.  We achieved not one but two big milestones this year on the boat.  In May we cruised North to Princess Louisa Inlet.  The trip took us eight days and the scenery was spectacular.  In August we embarked on an even longer trip to the far side of Vancouver Island and Barkley Sound.  It was an experience not to be forgotten.  In spite of a thick layer of fog that plagued us for most of our time West of Victoria it was an epic trip.

Motoring into Princess Louisa Inlet

Anchored in Barkley Sound

All in all as 2014 comes to a close I feel blessed for the chance to have sailed so much and so well (by way of location, not skill).  The feeling reminds me of a moment that I had not long after we brought Ge'Mara home to Vancouver for the first time.  But first a bit of background:

There is a song by Bruce Cockburn called "Wondering Where the Lions Are."  It's a pleasantly optimistic tune that carries a feeling of well being and relief at not having to face some of the more severe of life's challenges.  It even has a reference to sailing.  I read somewhere that Cockburn was referring to his conversion to Christianity and the story of Daniel and the Lions Den.  I grew up with those same stories and the reference really resonates with me.

As I drove to the marina one sunny morning for one of our first sails on Ge'Mara the song played on the radio.  As I listened and hummed along I couldn't believe I was the co-owner of a 34ft sailboat.  We had navigated the complexities of the purchase, successfully sailed her home from Nanaimo in the middle of winter and now she sat waiting for me in her new slip in Coal Harbour, perhaps the most desired moorage in the city.  As a recently divorced man in the throes of reinventing himself, this seemed to be almost too much good fortune.  It was one of those moments your brain takes a picture of and retains for posterity.  The lions were nowhere to be seen.

***

This week I realized that with the fall season and my job search in full swing, Ge'Mara had been idle since September.  We were in the middle of a clear, cold snap with -0 C temperatures and brilliant sunshine.  On a whim I decided to go for an overnight sail.  I won't go into details on the trip except to say that it was somewhat ill-conceived (as most sailing trips are when they are rushed).  I had to pull into Snug Cove rather than continue to my intended destination because I ran out of daylight.  I then proceeded to tie the boat to the outside of the dock, fully exposed to the opening of the cove.  I reasoned this wouldn't be a problem, given the very tame weather forecast for Georgia Strait.  However I didn't think to check the forecast in Howe Sound.  That night there was a gale warning and  the wind blew past Snug Cove at almost 40 knots.  Tied up broadside to the waves I was tossed around like popcorn.  With it being pitch dark and me by myself with the better part of a bottle of wine in me, moving the boat wasn't an option so I settled in for a long night.  The next morning I was exhausted from a very poor sleep and low-level seasickness from the near constant pounding I took through the night.  It was a rookie mistake.  I made a quick breakfast and motored towards home in a foul mood.

As I passed the lighthouse at Point Atkinson and turned towards Vancouver my mood softened.  While it was near freezing there wasn't a hint of wind and the sea was completely calm.  The sun was rising over the city and the panorama in front of me was breathtaking.  Suddenly I was reminded of how incredibly fortunate I was.  I set the auto pilot and sat up on deck leaning back against the mast, surprised at how warm I was in the sun.  I scanned the North Shore mountains and considered what an amazing year it has been on the water.  Then, as now, I'm wondering where the Lions are.