Moody
1404
post-template-default,single,single-post,postid-1404,single-format-standard,bridge-core-2.5.2,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,qode_grid_1300,qode-theme-ver-23.7,qode-theme-bridge,disabled_footer_top,disabled_footer_bottom,qode_header_in_grid,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-6.4.1,vc_responsive

Moody

Moody

Moody

I have heard or read of the many moods of the sea. It seems every romantic the world over has described the sea in this anthropocentric way. Yet I have never witnessed any of her moods. The sea, at least until today, had never been moody in the least. For me, the sea had always been a blank canvas upon which the wind and sun played endlessly.

This afternoon, as I gazed absent minded forward past Seaburban’s bows, past the waves that stood off to the horizon and past the clouds that bore down on all, I realized two things: Firstly, I have come half ways around the world and every mile forward is a mile closer to home as opposed to farther; and Secondly, there was nothing to look at on the sea. The latter came as a shock.

The mixed swell that had plagued Seaburban for days was gone. The cresting waves that had dealt us so many hard knocks were gone. Twenty knots of wind should have covered the sea’s surface with whitecaps but there were none. The sky appeared similarly uninteresting. Even the birds, our constant companions day and night, calm and gale, were gone. The canvas was a shocking blank.

Snapping out of my mental torpor, it struck me hard that the sea had become pensive. Her mood had changed. She was thinking what to do next and, like me only a few seconds ago, had entered some state of absent-minded torpor. The sea had lost all interest in the present and was off somewhere else, daydreaming. Against all my efforts and all the odds, I had become a romantic. The sea and all her moods indeed.

I looked more closely at the sea and sky around me. It had changed. I was not imagining things, daydreaming, or wishing it were so. I went below, fetched the camera and came back on deck thinking that the scene would not survive a photograph. I was wrong. Look carefully at the picture I took a few minutes after my forced conversion to romanticism. There is nothing to see.

Within the hour it was all back. The swell, the wind-waves, the knocks and the whitecaps. The sky, an earlier dull gray mass, had broken up into cumulus shards with blue streaks between.

Perhaps at halfway, the sea was thinking of some new trick. Something else with which to dissuade or discourage. Maybe finding that uninteresting, she gave up and lazily settled for more of the same. Or maybe she’s just moody. I cannot say. I will say, however, that her mood had changed.

Follow my tracks in real-time:
https://bit.ly/svseaburban

 

16 Comments
  • BT
    Posted at 10:41h, 02 July Reply

    Bert, you are amazing! Following you progress and posts with great admiration for you courage and wishing / willing you success. You are on the downhill run now. All the best from an Aussie follower BT ( 2 degrees of separation from your Uncle Joe).

  • Sandi Lyon
    Posted at 03:20h, 06 July Reply

    That looks about right. When it’s hot out in the ocean, its foggy and wet on the Wet Coast. That means you’re on the right track, heading the right direction. Finally. Woohoo.

  • Anita Kuntz
    Posted at 00:10h, 08 July Reply

    Following you journey and am truly amazed.

  • Suzan Persons
    Posted at 15:43h, 09 July Reply

    What an amazing journey!!

  • Karin Hill
    Posted at 15:27h, 13 July Reply

    Been following you for a couple of months now. What an amazing journey! Your blog is insightful and humorous. Almost home. Safe travels!

  • MountainJack
    Posted at 19:52h, 14 July Reply

    Has to be an amazing feeling to be so near home, Bert.

    Have spent months at sea “steaming”, not sailing, gaining my sea legs with the constant motion just became second nature. Getting back to a stable platform at dockside or over on the beach left me wobbly for a day or two. Cannot imagine how you’ll feel after a year of hardly ever being stable. There is that other thing having been on your own for that long; the familiarity of constant aloneness , the feeling of approach avoidance, being forced back into humanity. Might feel as though you could just extend a little bit more and savor the experience just a little longer…naw, probably not.

    Welcome back home, Bert. You’ve completed one heck of a feat.

  • Arthur Oliver
    Posted at 04:33h, 15 July Reply

    Getting oh so close. What’s the ETA?

  • estelle C whiddon
    Posted at 02:58h, 16 July Reply

    Bert, your homecoming Saturday will be a joyous occasion! I have followed the voyage daily and hope your arrival home brings much joy.

  • Peter Jungschaffer
    Posted at 07:19h, 18 July Reply

    This has been so great. Thank you!!!

  • BT
    Posted at 09:50h, 18 July Reply

    Hi Bert, you are just a few hours away from home. We are cheering for your most successful journey. We are especially amazed at the sailing conditions below Australia and New Zealand, as we can have some very big polar blasts hit us at this time of the year. Cannot imagine what it was like to sail through that type of weather. Can only take of hats off to you I amazement. Hope that you make it to Oz for a visit. What a wonderful achievement you have accomplished. /bt

  • Antonio Corbelletta
    Posted at 16:15h, 18 July Reply

    Congratulations! What an adventure! Well done. I have enjoyed tracking your voyage everyday just wish I would have know about it earlier, from the beginning.

  • Suzan
    Posted at 18:13h, 18 July Reply

    Yeahhhhhhhhh Bert!!! You have done it!!!
    Happy Homecoming – And stay safe!!!
    It isn’t the same world that you left!!
    I’m going to miss reading your travels and your adventures!! But thrilled that you’re home (almost) safe and sound!!
    Next trip around the world, hope that you’ll stop along the way and post your photos of the locals and the ports!!

  • Raegan Elford
    Posted at 19:23h, 18 July Reply

    Soldier who has logged more sea time than this Navy sailor.
    What an incredible accomplishment (the journey vice logging more sea time than I)
    BZ

  • Marianne Scott
    Posted at 18:25h, 19 July Reply

    Congratulations on your accomplishment! I guess we will have to put up a plaque commemorating your voyage on the Victoria Harbour wall.

    Hope to see you this week.

    Marianne Scott

  • Tom Cory
    Posted at 07:40h, 23 July Reply

    Congradulations Bert from Annapolis MD. A Great Adventure.

  • Mark
    Posted at 12:24h, 29 July Reply

    I don’t think that anyone that attended Estevan Junior High could have imagined that this was in the future for one of it’s students. I checked in at different legs of the journey and was fascinated every time. Congrats!

Post A Comment