After six weeks of unbelievable beauty, sailing and diving in Raja Ampat, it was time for SV Kismet to start heading south. We planned to get to Komodo over two weeks, with one or two overnight passages between stops. Once in Komodo, Joni and I would depart before our 60-day visas expired. Joni planned to go back home to Belgium and I would be heading to Singapore for 3-days to reset my visa and come back for more diving.
We spent a few days running around Sorong doing errands and reprovisioning the boat. Kevin began assessing the weather and determined the trip was was going to be uncomfortable but we would be sailing most of it. As the departure grew closer, I started to feel my old friend, anxiety, showing up. Up until now, my anxiety around the day trips was manageable, chalking it up to having a different boat and captain. But as we pulled off our lines and got underway, I felt the same level of anxiety that I did when leaving for the Pacific crossing.
Being so close to the equator, what if the weather model mispredicted the forecast and it was going to be much worse than Kevin expected? What if there was a lot of boat traffic or fishing traps we could hit? What if the currents slowed us down, prolonging the trip? What if I forgot how to make a mayday call? What if I forgot how to sail? So many what-if scenarios (mostly irrational) ran through my head as we made our way through the calm channel on the leeward side of the island, approaching the unprotected sea.
Luckily, my anxiety didn’t seem to rub off on Joni who was excited about the upcoming passage. She was eager to learn more about sailing and hadn’t gotten much experience in our day hops, primarily powered by the engine. In the previous weeks, Joni had been working online, teaching Dutch to students around the world using the new Starlink satellite internet on SV Kismet. Kevin and I tried to warn Joni that she should clear her teaching schedule during our passage days, knowing it’s impossible to do much of anything underway. She was halfway through a class when we lost the swell protection of the island and things started to get rolley. Shortly after, she began throwing up and asked me to email her students to reschedule.
Since Joni was sick, Kevin did most of the watches during the day and I tried to keep him company or allow him to rest whenever he needed it. Once the sun set at 6 pm, we had a 3-hour watch schedule starting with Kevin, followed by Joni, then me at 12-3 am, and Kevin at sunrise. The conditions stayed relatively swelly and windy, occasionally interrupted by the protection of an island off in the distance.
Passage-making allows for a lot of time to reflect and contemplate. After spending up to 25 days at sea, living full-time on a sailboat for two years, and traveling about 20,000 nautical miles, how could my sailing anxiety be getting worse? It seemed like the more experience I had, the more I learned of things that can go wrong which continued to fuel my thoughts. Is it ever going to get easier? At what point do I say it’s time to move on from my dream of sailing around the world and find a different dream? It’s hard to know when the lesson is to persist and when the lesson is to let go.
I thought back to the lesson I learned earlier this year and asked myself: where am I feeling resistance? I began to get emotional facing the reality that my gut had known all along, it was time to close the sailing chapter of my life. At this point, Eitan and I still had plans to meet back at SV Sierra Wind in Fiji and continue our trip together. Leaving sailing would also mean leaving Eitan and the boat I had called home for almost two years. Eitan and I had been growing apart over the year and I began feeling like our relationship had run its course and we were at a natural point of separation. In many ways I felt defeated, knowing I could never actually conquer this feeling of anxiety but I also felt relief, knowing I didn’t have to. I could still join cruising friends from time to time but I don’t need to sign up for multi-day offshore passages.
Towards the end of day two, the wind died completely and we were left with glassy conditions. One of the reasons I know I’m not meant for sailing is how much I absolutely love zero knots of wind while we are underway. I am mesmerized by the reflective surface of infinite water and always have a strong desire to jump in. I heard a familiar blow of air and noticed we had a pod of dolphins, gliding along the bow. Joni popped up and ran forward, excitedly pointing at our new companions. Even after all the anxiety, I was reminded that moments like this make it all worth it.
After three days and two nights of sailing, we approached our destination of Ambon and my anxiety became manageable again as I began coordinating plans for our arrival. Like most of Raja Ampat, anchoring here would be a pain due to underwater topography so I set out to contact different diving companies to see if we could use a mooring ball in exchange for booking a few dives. Luckily, we found a dive center with exactly that and picked up a mooring ball for the night. Like always, I breathed a sigh of relief and said a “Thank You” to the powers above for another safe passage.
