“Any man who goes to sea claiming to have no fear is either a liar or a damn fool”. 

I read this in a book once and it stuck with me, being a sailor. Since then I have never once claimed to be fearless in the face of the ocean, knowing deep down that I am, in fact, afraid of it. The raw power that it holds in its depths could destroy me without even realizing it had done so. The ocean is full of beauty and wonder but it must also be respected. A shark which may be swimming beside you as gently as the Angelfish in the coral below could become a raging torrent of hungry teeth; a small cloud on the horizon may build into a gale that knocks your boat out of the sea and onto the rocks; an out of place wave may be marking a shoal waiting to rip the bottom of your boat off and drop you to the seabed below. These are some of the thoughts running through my head as my father, brothers, and I prepare for a many month long trip down to the Bahamas.

I lost sight of myself for a while in the process of dating a girl and didn’t know what to do with my life. I was jumping from wanting to go with my siblings on this trip to wanting to go to school, to not doing anything but pursue the relationship. About two or three months ago I realized that even though I might be in a relationship with someone who does not share even close to the same career interests as I do that I need to go and purse my own dreams instead of following hers. So I hopped on the TearAway adventure. In about a weeks time (as long things go to plan) we will be turning the key in our diesel engine and guiding our bow towards the Erie Canal, and from there to the Hudson, and finally into the great blue that I consider more home than solid land.

I have crossed the Atlantic ocean once before, and loved it. The long nights at the bow of the vessel Argo, watching the stars trace their paths across the sky. The warm days spent catching fish, taking classes, and everyday work that is necessary to keep the vessel running smoothly. The feeling as you look toward land at the edge of the horizon, marking the end of your long voyage, and knowing you just long for it to continue on and the tranquility to never end. We won’t be having any long passages such as that on this trip.

With just over five thousand nautical miles under my belt I am by far the most experienced sailor on the boat, but this trip will be different as each trip away from port is. It will teach me things I haven’t even thought about yet, it will grow me in ways I can’t even imagine, and we will be guiding the vessel to places not yet seen by my eyes, which means that I am as new to this as my father, and brothers, are really.

As we get the boat ready I am working on making lists of what needs to be put on the boat and where, making safety checklists, conjuring a ditch bag, and making a watch chart. Other tasks will be added to that as we get closer and closer to getting TearAway underway. Our engine is almost operational again and we are all in high, if a bit frantic, spirits.

In some ways I shall miss this island and the security I feel of being able to go to my home whenever I need to. Having friends within a half hour. Knowing people on the streets and the community of it all. I will miss my work at the boat club and teaching what I love. I will miss learning, with my friend Josh, random things like windsurfing. I will miss the familiarity of it all. But at the same time I have been itching since I returned from Argo in December to get away and be out of my comfort zone and to be near the ocean again; to be seeing something new each day and to be learning how to do things with new people. I will miss this, but I will love the serenity of it all.

So as we get ready to say goodbye to the people here we know and love we also prepare to embrace a lifestyle which most of us have not yet experienced and which none of us can predict.

Let’s hope the wind and seas stay at our back.

Photos by: Matt Hardy, Sophia Haram, Katie Combaluzier.

It was a beautiful day. The sun beat down on our backs and a slight wind whipped around our faces. A dead snake lay on the side of the road where it had gotten hit by a car. Dogs barked and ran around us as we walked by their property and we walked slightly faster then before.

“It’s so dead when it’s not market day.” Elisha comments on the market square.

Ten minutes later we left the streets and entered a restaurant called Mamamia. A Thai lady approached us and asked if we wished to sit outside or in. We chose to sit outside. We exited the musty indoors of the restaurant and breathed in the warm, tropical air of the ocean and looked out over the deep blue ocean. The waves were a quite big this time. Almost big enough to body surf on. We only had a second to register before we were pushed into plastic chairs. A waitress came around and placed menus in our hands.

Usually the waiters only give you two minutes and then come to ask what you want. So I scanned the menu as fast as possible and finally chose one that looked good. It was Pad Thai Chicken. I would order it again if we went but it was not my favorite thing in the world.

After lunch mom left us and went to get her massage and us kids and dad started down the beach. We were at the place where we learned how to kite surf when we heard whooping and yelling. Suddenly Elisha takes off and I look where he is going and see some friends of ours on the beach. Their kids, ages five and six, are running towards us.

In moments my brothers had put their stuff on a chair and were building sand castles on the beach. Hannah and I waded into the clear, wavy water to join the adults. The water was cool as it swirled around my feet. Waves crashed against us and I almost fell over.

Once we had gotten out to the adults we started to talk about this and that and for a while we just floated there. Without notice a ball comes flying into our midst and sprays us all with water. Elisha, who was a little ways away, burst into laughter that only he can bring. A clear, ringing laugh that brings joy to every person that hears it. We tossed the ball back and forth (making sure to splash Elisha with it) until it started raining. Then we threw it onto the shore so that the little boys could play with it.

The rain only lasted ten minutes or so and then it was all sunny again. My mom had come back from the massage place and had walked down the crowded beach. A few minutes later my father followed. The rest of my family and friends had waded out of the beautiful water and were basking in the sun while the dogs barked and the car horns blared in the distance.

I got up and went up the beach to sit on a beach chair. I lost since of time for a while as I thought about this and that. But then Ezra asked me to go home with him. I said no but Hannah said she would. She had school. I could see my dad and mom making there way towards us. Hannah packed up and left with Ezra. I could see that everyone else were getting ready to go so I just got my stuff ready and waited for mom and dad. When they got to me dad told me he was going home to but mom was going to stay. So I left with dad.

With the ocean air blowing in my hair and with the sun beating down on me and with my head finally clear and light I walked hand in hand with dad down the road and back to my house that I share with the best family a boy my age could hope for.