How to write a blog about having finished our circumnavigation of the globe by sailboat ? Should I talk about La Paz; it’s blindly hot days, the months spent sweating readying to leave in 2007, the incredible roadside taco’s, the garbage on all the surrounding beaches; Or should I talk about the actual sail around the world; the length of time it takes, the countries visited, the black magic, the storms, the perfect sunsets; Or should I talk about how it is impossible to have completed this without two incredible friends; Hugh and his delicious crepes, Ryan and his continuous optimism; Or should I talk about my mixed-up feelings about being here; Or should I talk about all the polluted beaches we visited; Or should I spend my time thanking all the incredible people back home and all over the world, without whom we would not be sitting at anchor in La Paz after traveling some 29 000nm (55 000km). I should just write something and see where it leads.
La Paz. The place where we first became owners of Khulula, the place where we spend months sweating, swearing and bashing knuckles while constantly working on Khulula, and the place we were started the OceanGybe Expedition. La Paz. The memories of disemboweled boats, grease, fiberglass and wood dust. La Paz. The destination constantly in the back of our minds for the past year. La Paz. The final dot to complete our track around the world. La Paz. Looked so beautiful when we entered the lagoon yesterday.
We visited our old marina yesterday and, in true La Paz fashion, very little had changed. The restaurants, where we pored over charts, timing schedules, equipment manuals, and re-construction problems, still serve fantastic pescado tacos. The chandleries, whom we almost solely supported through the off-season in 2007, are still selling overpriced boat parts to anyone willing to pay. The ice-cream stand, which kept us going during the heat of the day, still has incredible strawberry cones. And yet, despite all this constancy in La Paz, Khulula and her crew have definitely changed since we left in 2007. Khulula (and her crew) is no longer looking bright, shiny and clean, she has stains on her hull (and we have scars on our bodies), her jerry cans (and our tea cups) seem to have their own ecosystem growing in them, her sails are loose and baggy (and our t-shirts are 2 sizes too big due to weight loss), her paint is chipped (and our sunglasses scratched), yet despite all of these changes we couldn’t be happier. Despite these superficial defects, the changes in all are far more intrusive than skin deep and, while they are probably still hidden from us, the rewards will be in the memories, friends and knowledge that all it takes to realize your dreams is small continual steps in the right direction.
We have seen the effects of black magic, we have swum in water so clear it seems to have no end, we have beaten our way to wind, tearing sails and breaking stays, we have learnt to be completely self sufficient with only what we have on boat, we have seen the green flash at the end of a hard day, we have stood on mountains spewing lava 500 ft overhead, we have eaten the freshest fresh tuna and dorado one could hope for, we have been completely humbled time and time again by the ocean, we have been taught true generosity by those who have nothing, we have seen the stars through the eyes of “uneducated” islanders, we have been shown better ways of dealing with our garbage, we have surfed with crocodiles and swum away from inquisitive sharks, we have got lost in the Amazon, we have been shown how our “civilized” Western lifestyle is completely deficient in many truly civilized ways, we have seen hermit crabs living in plastic bottles and children building sand castles from plastic trash, we have gained just an understanding how incredible the first sea-explorers were, and I, personally, have learnt the true value in being able to trust friends completely.
When we first left Vancouver, many said the toughest challenge would not be the wind, the waves, the financials or the time away, but rather the personalities. While this is completely accurate, it is also those personalities that make adventures like this so enjoyable. Without being able to share the above experiences with your best friends, one would not be able to truly absorb the enormity or spectacular nature of the situation. They remind you to enjoy the journey and not just the destination, they calm you when the seas look like they are going to swamp the boat, they bring you right back to size if you are getting a big head, they inspire you and they help mold you. Hugh and Ryan took me sailing around the world when I knew nothing about sailing, I had very little money and brought along lots of heavy school equipment. They didn’t complain when they did all the sailing, cooking, cleaning and boat work for weeks while I slowly overcame seasickness, they never complained that I wasn’t helping and they have helped me become the person I am today. These are debts one never gets to repay. How do you thank someone for making you a better person, for opening your eyes to so many things, and for changing the course of your life? You can’t. You just hope that maybe you have done the same.
I have tried to write this blog numerous times, but never seem to be able to succinctly convey all the thoughts bashing around up there in my oversized noggin. I am sure it will slowly come out in blogs and diary entries over the next while, but right now, it IS guacamole and cervesa time, so I am going to head up to the cockpit, share a cold beverage with the incredible (and single!) Hugh Patterson and together we will cheers Ryan, and every single person who has lend a helping hand, because without each and every one of you, we would not be here.