Death of a childhood dream

I can't help it. I always wanted to run away and be a sailor. Okay, I wanted to run away and be a pirate on one of the tall ships, or a Viking on a long boat, as opposed to being a sailor in the Navy like my grandpa and several great uncles (one of whom might've been a cook on a boat in Pearl Harbor on December 7th, but that's another story).

I've been on the Lady Washington. I spent five hours on the Soren Larsen. For a small donation, I could live aboard the Lady Washington for two weeks, or volunteer on the Soren Larsen. I could swab the decks and sing sea chanties and run around barefoot and painting tar. It all sounded so romantic. Even paddleboating around the Black Pearl when she was at harbor in King Harbor a few years ago was the thrill of a lifetime (we saw battle damage!). My dream of running away to sea was almost in my grasp, until...

We did the 'diving the reef' thing in Australia. We went in the Wet, and seas were rough. It rained all three days, but then again, that doesn't really make a difference when you're snorkeling. We slept for two nights on the gaff-rigged schooner the Santa Maria, sharing the hold with ten of our closest friends. As a kid, I dreamed of chances like that. Except, I hadn't realized how stuffy it would get, crowded into a room the size of my closet with ten of our closest friends, especially since we couldn't open the portholes, since we'd get wet if we did. And sleeping on deck wasn't an option, since we'd get wet if we did. Add to the fact that I got sea sick and stayed sea sick for three days at sea and the next couple days on land...

Then, this weekend, we went to Ventura to enjoy a weekend away. We were going to take the boat out to Santa Cruz Island for a day of hiking. I thought it would be like the 5,000 ferry crossings we made in Auckland Harbour. Maybe a little rough like that one trip to Catalina, or the boat back from Stewart. Erm, no.

While the weather was sunny, the winds were blowing. The ocean started getting rough, and the tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew... The boat actually turned around halfway out because so many people were getting sick. Tim got sick. I clung to the railing outside and braved the sea spray, chewing on candied ginger, determined not to feed the fishes. And while I didn't -- I lasted an hour on the damned boat, covered in salt and smelling puke, I finally realized.

Kara is not meant to be a sailor. While I will happily suffer for my eventual cruise to Antarctica, on a slightly bigger boat, I think I was not made for the days of the wooden tall ships. As much as I'd love to sail on the Soren Larsen from New Zealand to the Cook Islands and up through Vanu'atu, it's probably not meant to be.

It's hard to let go of a childhood dream. I will never hoist the colors high, nor will I ever be a 'real' sailor. I think I'm okay with that. While sailing off under the stars, hearing that voice that Kermit talks about in "Rainbow Connection" (as opposed to the other voices in my head) sounds like a great adventure, there are other adventures to be had.

Jousting School, anyone?