Deb flew to Florida to visit her mother for Mother's Day and the week after, May 2006. I just had this bug in me that I had to be out on the water that weekend, and try some solo sailing. My plan was to sail out to Pine Island and anchor overnight, spend some time in quiet meditation and prayer, and hopefully hear from God on a few things. Of course, it wouldn't be an adventure if things had gone exactly as planned.
I dropped Debbie off at Hobby airport, packed up and headed to the boat, caulked a leaky hatch, and got out of the marina about 4 PM. Had a beautiful sail around the south end of the lake, back downwind to the island, about 7 PM anchored in the lee of the island, had a sandwich and around sunset caught 6 little catfish, only one keeper, though, about 2 pounds. So far, according to plan and great.
That's when the folks at weather.com started to fail me, though. They had predicted the winds dying down and staying out of the south overnight, but by the time the fish stopped biting and I got my bed ready, both wind and waves had definitely increased, and I was bouncing around quite a bit. The wind seemed like it had shifted to the west, so I decided to pull up anchor and head to the east end of the island. As I cleared the island to the east, though, I found the main wind was indeed from the south, quite strong, and the waves were up to around 2 feet on that end, so I turned around and anchored again about 50 yards from where I'd been originally.
I was up on deck, tying things down when a fairly large powerboat anchored down the way came by, said the radio had said severe weather was moving in, that they were heading in and I probably should too. I figured I was tossing around too much to sleep anyway, so I pulled up anchor, kicked in the outboard and headed out west, across the lake to the marina. Dumb idea. I was probably a lot safer where I was, anchored behind the island. By now the wind coming around the west end was about 20 mph, and the waves at least 3' (short, steep lake waves, not a gentle 3' ocean swell). As I got further out into the lake, I noticed the powerboat that had suggested I leave turning around, heading back to the lee of the island! My little boat was pitching around a bit, but at least not slamming like a powerboat does, so I kept going.
As long as I headed into the waves, I was OK. The only problem was, we haven't been out at night since Hurricane Rita, and I was having trouble remembering which lights were where on the far shore. I kept looking at a row of lights that looked like the condos outside our marina and thinking I needed to go further north, which put me crosswise to the wind and waves and really started me rolling. Then I'd turn south for awhile into the waves, then try to head more north until I couldn't take the rolling. I finally decided I just needed to get across the lake heading into the waves, then I could figure out where I was and work along the shore. I would realize later, though, the lights on the condo dock were off, and the lights I had been trying to head to were new lights further up the lake. It turned out that at this point, into the waves was exactly the direction I needed to go, and I finally cleared the point and saw the blinking lights at the entrance to our marina off to the right.
The outboard ran out of gas at that point and I had to refuel from the spare gas can, leaning over the stern while pitching around in the waves. At least there was a bright full moon, though. I know there are several lone treetops sticking up between the island and marina. I didn't see any in the moonlight and thankfully didn't hit any; maybe my meandering was actually God guiding me around them. I had left the island about 11:00 PM; finally made the marina and was tying up at 12:45 AM. It's normally about a half-hour trip with our little outboard. I got tied up and headed to the marina bathroom. My legs and equilibrium were in such a state from balancing in the waves, that little concrete block building was pitching and rolling almost as much as the boat!
I finally crashed in the berth about 1:30 AM, slept soundly until 9:00 in spite of the v-berth on a 19' boat not being that comfortable. I woke up to an overcast sky, looked like the wind was still pretty strong out past the breakwater, then someone else came down the dock and said rain and possibly severe thunderstorms were on the way, so I didn't do much else but pack up and clean up; a few gusts and the rain hit just as I was leaving.
Did I hear God like I'd hoped? Well, didn't "hear" anything specific, but I'm still pondering if there was a message in the circumstances. The best message from a trip like this, though is: He saw me through it and brought me safely home.
BC
Copyright 2006 Jeffrey Brent Clifton
eMail to: brent(a)jbcmusic.com